Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Thirty

LUCA

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 13TH, 2023

F inley sleeps peacefully beside me, leg thrown over my middle as she curls into my side. Her dark hair is strewn across my bare chest as she snoozes softly. The warmth of her body has my skin pricking with sweat under this comforter, but I can’t bring myself to move. Her lips are parted just faintly in a pout, and her lashes rest against her porcelain cheeks.

She’s beautiful.

I have to move.

I have to check if the apartment is bugged. It’s the one thing I haven’t done, and I meant to do it last night after she fell asleep, but I wasn’t far after her. She’s a cuddler, and I guess I never realized that I am too. How would I? I’ve never spent the night with any woman before. Once she intertwined herself with me, it was like someone slipped me some melatonin. I haven’t slept that well in a while.

Or have I ever?

Easing my way out from under her, I replace my empty spot with a pillow. She curls up to it almost immediately in her slumber, like I had never moved at all. After a quick freshen-up in the bathroom, finding no signs of any cameras, I quietly head into the kitchen. It takes me less than five seconds to find one hidden behind the coffee bar decor next to her Keurig machine, giving a view of the entire layout of the apartment from that angle alone.

And the lamp in the living room.

And the picture of a smiling Finley with her dad on the wall.

It takes even less time for me to see red. The blood boils so hot under my skin, I’m sure I’ll explode, the anger bubbling inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. My nostrils flare as I clench my hands into fists at my side, the veins in my neck straining so hard, they could burst. I want to hit something. I want to slide all the shit on these counters into the floor. I want to break someone’s fucking neck. Red. It’s all red.

Someone was in her house. Someone is watching her— he is watching her. Watching us. He has seen her fucking naked.

I’m going to fucking kill someone.

There’s no one to kill here, so I take my fury out on the bug cameras as I rip each one out, slicing through the wires with a kitchen knife and burying it so deep in the trash, I know she’ll never stumble across them. Then, for good measure, I start making breakfast because if she comes out to see me right now, I know I won’t be able to hide the rage that’s written all over my face and in my body language.

I have to get her out of here. Now, not this weekend, not even tomorrow. Today . Javier is ten steps ahead of me, and I need to get my shit together. Today .

“You’re making breakfast?”

I turn suddenly, a bowl of pancake mix in hand, to see Finley standing in the doorway of her bedroom as she rubs her eyes sleepily. Her baggy T-shirt tickles the tops of her thighs as she stretches before walking over to me.

“I am.”

“That’s nice of you.” She smiles up at me as she reaches me.

Pouring the mix into a pan on the stove, I’m quiet as I watch her make coffee. If she senses something is off, she doesn’t say anything. I know she would say something. Instead, she makes two cups, pulling out the creamer and sugar before peeking up at me with a curious look.

I’m in the clear.

“I take it as is,” I tell her.

“No sugar?” she questions incredulously. “Nothing?”

Shaking my head, I turn back to the stove to flip the pancakes. “Don’t say a word, chica . Lots of people drink black coffee.”

She hums suggestively, coming up to place my cup of coffee next to me on the counter as she sips on her own. Peeking down at her over my shoulder, I see her cheeks lifting over the rim of her mug, and her eyes twinkle with amusement.

“I’m going to my mother’s today.” I clear my throat, taking the pan from the stove and scooping our pancakes onto two separate plates. “I’m staying for a few days.”

“Oh?” she squeaks. “You’re not going to class today?”

Pouring more mix into the pan, I twist to face her as I grab my coffee and take a long sip. “No. I’ve been promising mi mamá I’d go see her, and I have some personal days to use. The trip didn’t count towards those.”

She nods understandingly, but I can see the disappointment written all over her face.

Here goes nothing.

“You could come,” I say. “Stay with me.”

The mug drops from her lips as she gapes up at me. Softness floods her features, along with some anxiety that dances along her knitted brows. “Come with you? Meet your m-mother?”

“ Mi familia .” I face the pancakes again to flip them. My stomach flips nervously, and I swallow down the irritation that comes with that. Why am I so fucking nervous? “My sisters will be there too.”

“And you…” I hear her swallow thickly. “You want me to meet them?”

“Yes, Princesa .”

The guilt eats at my unsteady stomach, but I squash the feeling as quickly as it comes. It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the truth, either. I know what this will insinuate to her, and while I’m not necessarily opposed to that, I can never give her what she wants. I just want her to be safe. So, I’m stalling, and everything can be dealt with when we come back.

She doesn’t say anything as I place the second round of pancakes onto the plates, setting them on the counter where her bar stools sit. I know her agreeing to something of this magnitude is unlikely—she’ll miss class, be behind on assignments, and it’s probably nerve-wracking to even think of meeting my family. Hell, I feel that too. But as she bounces on her heels before swiftly climbing into one of the bar stools, coffee mug in hand, the tiny smile that creeps onto her face tells me something different.

“Why would you want me to meet them?” she asks, averting my curious gaze as she digs into her food.

“ Porque eres mi princesa. ”

“Because…” She stops, looking over at me through an inquisitive squint. “I’m your princess?”

I raise a brow at her.

Finley shrugs. “I took Spanish in my first year of college. I know a little. Very little, though. I’ve just been trying to pay more attention. I want to…I don’t know. Learn more. For you.”

The guilt is back.

“You do,” I reiterate coolly.

Her nod is unsure, like she’s embarrassed, almost. I drop my fork on the table as I twist in my seat to face her, lifting my hands to brush her hair behind both of her ears as she turns to face me too. Pink stains her cheeks as her lips purse in a small pout.

“Why?” I ask.

“Maybe to impress you?” she rasps, laughing nervously as she tries to look down at her fidgeting hands.

I don’t deserve to even be in the same room as her. In her apartment. Holding her face like this. I don’t deserve any of it. I care for her, but I am essentially leading her on. Of course, I care for her. But I have to protect her. Is there a point to anything more if her life is in danger? Is there a point if I don’t even know if I’m capable of giving her anything more?

I need to protect her. I need to protect my family.

“Why do you want to impress me?”

“I don’t know.”

I give her a pointed look.

Why am I doing this? Why am I forcing her into telling me this?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Am I really your princess?” Finley whispers, but she sounds defeated.

She’s trying her best not to look at me, but I bring my face down to meet her eyes, my hands cupping her cheeks so she can’t avoid me any longer. “I call you princesa , don’t I?”

The coffee and pancakes are long forgotten as we stare at each other, and for some reason, my heart thrashes against my chest. Her doe eyes are gazing at me like she’s trying to bare her soul to me with one look. I feel an odd satisfaction that it’s me she’s giving that to.

“I just want to be able to understand you,” she admits meekly. “On every level.”

I didn’t think I was capable of feeling this much guilt. The most I’d ever felt was when mi mamá figured out what my job really was after I brought them to the States. My hooks are so far underneath Finley’s skin, they might be permanently lodged there.

I have to tell her the truth.

Soon. I’ll tell her soon.

Brushing her cheekbones with my thumbs, I sigh. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the only person aside from my family who has spent this much time with me. I’ve never… There’s never been anyone like that for me.”

She smiles faintly at that.

I’m not sure why I just admitted that to her or if I’ve ever even admitted it to myself. She really has been the one other person who has spent so much time with me. I’ve spent the night over here so much, been parked outside her house and work so much, that maybe I never realized just how deep her hooks are sunken into me too.

“Luca,” she murmurs softly, and my attention is pulled back to her immediately. “I think that this might be more than just sex to me.”

She looks like she could shrivel up as she says it. Her shoulders sag with the lack of confidence in herself, and her gaze drops from mine again. She’s afraid of my reaction, afraid I’ll reject her if she puts herself out there. Has she been rejected before? Why is she so uncertain of herself? Who made her feel that way?

It has always been more than just sex. If it was just sex, this whole thing would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to avoid. It would’ve never lasted this long. Even I can admit that.

Taking a deep breath, I say, “Hasn’t it always been?”

The sheer awe on her face tells me she wasn’t expecting that from me at all. She was preparing herself for something else entirely. The wrinkle between her brows furrows tighter, and I can tell she wants to go into more depth on what I just said, but we can’t.

“Eat your breakfast,” I say, giving her a teasing look as I try to divert the conversation. “ You have to pack.”

The infectious smile that crosses her lips tells me everything I need to know.

We’ll have that conversation, just not right now. Not until I tell her the truth. If she still wants me then, after the veil is removed from her shielded eyes, we can have that conversation. I have no idea what I’m capable of giving her, but in a world where there aren’t fuckers coming after me for money or the people I care about, I think I could at least try.

I don’t know what it means to love someone, not like that. But if things were normal, maybe she could show me how.