“And you’re sure I am one?” I ask hesitantly, remembering the doubts I had earlier.
“I’m positive. Even if I didn’t already know who your mother was, I can . . . sense it.”
“You mean you can smell me?”
“That’s part of it,” he admits with another infuriating grin.
“So you need to . . . get a sense of the people around me?”
“Until the guilty party is accounted for, yes.”
“Can you do that from a respectable distance?” I ask. “At least, while I’m at work?”
He stares at me for a moment, calculating. Finally, he says, “You won’t even know I’m here.”
“And stop telling people you’re my boyfriend,” I add.
“If that’s what you want.” His lips thin and his jaw clenches. He breathes through his nose as if to compose himself, and I can’t help but wonder what I said to elicit his reaction.
It’s not disappointment over the whole boyfriend debacle. It can’t be. Not after what happened last night—or did not happen. He’s not interested in me like that. We have history, and he feels a sense of duty to help me. He has a twisted sense of humor and doesn’t respond well to rejection—even in the face of his own cruel jokes.
There are many possible explanations for Luca’s demeanor, but none of them truly have anything to do with me. After last night, Luca’s romantic disinterest in me is the only thing I am certain of.
Chapter 16
Luca keeps his word. Though I know he is never far, and I feel his eyes on me most of the day, I do not see him again until I clock out and walk to my car. He’s waiting for me there with a scowl on his face.
“Sniff out any shifters?” I wonder.
He grunts something unintelligible, climbs in the car, and shuts the door without so much as a glance in my direction. The drive to my house is a quiet one. We say only the things that need to be said, and only because I drag the words out of him.
According to Luca, the house is spotless and Dad will never know what happened. He tells me the shifters that got away last night are long gone, and no new threats have stepped up to take their place. Today was quiet, but he isn’t any closer to discovering the mastermind behind the attacks.
Dad isn’t home when I get there. He’s back in town, according to the note he left on the kitchen counter, but he is at the shop. He will be working late, making up for the time he lost.
Luca leans over my shoulder to read the message. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a while,” he mutters.
A broad range of emotions take their turn at cutting through me. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. He may not share my feelings, and he may not want to be here, but he doesn’t have to sound so miserable about being stuck with me.
I realize I am far from an expert on the thoughts and behavior of the opposite sex, but I really screwed up on reading Luca. His true feelings couldn’t be more obvious to me now.
I spin around quickly, prepared to defend what little pride I have left. “You don’t have to—” My forehead smashes into his chin, knocking him back.
“Dammit, Sav.” He rubs his jaw.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t realize you were that close.”
He snorts.
“I don’t need you here,” I tell him. “You can leave, or whatever.”
His hand drops away from his face and falls to his side. He stares at me for a moment, like he’s considering it. Then he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“My dad will be home soon,” I insist. “Late doesn’t really mean late. He considers anything after four o’clock late. It’s almost six. He should be home any minute now. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Luca smirks. “One thing that I remember very well is that there is a surefire way of knowing when you’re lying, and that’s when you start rambling.”
“I’m not rambling,” I argue. “I’m telling you facts. He’ll be home. Soon. In fact, I don’t want to be caught with a boy in the house, because that will probably get me grounded, so you should leave. Now.”
Luca’s smirk grows. “You’re still rambling.”
“Fine. Stay. Be miserable. See if I care.” I stomp away from Luca, and out of the kitchen, with a long, drawn-out growl.
He trails after me with a chuckle. “Make that sound again. It’s hot.”
I pause at the bottom of the stairs, thrown by his words. I look over my shoulder to find a wicked grin on his lips.
And girls are accused of having severe mood swings? Luca has me reeling.
“How about we don’t talk?” I suggest.
“Those rules apply to every guy that follows you upstairs to your room, or just me?” He winks, and I know he’s teasing me again. He probably expects me to correct him, and tell him that I don’t routinely host guys in my room.
Instead, I say, “Just you.”
I wait long enough to witness his grin slip before I turn and start up the stairs. My spine tingles as he follows closely behind. Despite my words to the contrary, I don’t hate that he is here. The girly butterflies in my stomach prove that much. Damn, I wish they would go away.
A door opens and shuts in the upstairs hallway, and a simple case of nerves blooms into full-on panic. Jill and Steve are here, and they’re coming. I hear their footsteps.
I whip around to flee the scene, but Luca is blocking my path. He stands in my way, unaware of the confrontation about to go down. Or he doesn’t care.
“Problem?” he asks.
I force my wide eyes to return to their normal size. “Nope.”
He nods at the landing above me. “Then let’s go.”
I turn as Jill and Steve round the corner. They slow when they see us, and we meet on the stairs, a few steps from the top. No one speaks.
Steve’s gaze swings back and forth between Luca and me, a suspicious look on his face. I realize how it looks, but I can’t bring myself to correct his inaccurate assumptions. Not when I see the look of awe on Jill’s face.
She hasn’t looked at me once. I doubt she realizes I’m here. In a matter of seconds, she has appraised Luca and decided that he is worthy of her attention. I don’t blame her for being attracted to him—who wouldn’t be? But I’m not about to step aside and let her have him either.
My eyes narrow. That bitch can bite her lip, bat her eyelashes, and push out her cleavage all she wants. She isn’t getting her way. Not this time. Not with Luca.
He doesn’t seem to notice the tension when he reaches around me to extend a hand to my evil stepsister and ex-boyfriend like they are beloved friends instead of mortal enemies.
“I’m Luca,” he introduces himself. “I’m a fr—”
“My boyfriend,” I cut in.
Steve’s eyes narrow into slits while Jill’s light up. Only then do I realize my mistake. Too late to fix it, I cross my arms and double down with a glower at Jill—not that she notices.
With one big stupid lie, I’ve made Luca even more desirable to her. The smile she gives him turns almost predatory, and a surprisingly strong sense of possessiveness comes over me.