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I stayed away from him for the rest of the day. I snuck down to grab some coffee and make some eggs, and he pretended like he didn’t see me, which worked just fine. Otherwise, I sat in bed, stared out the window, paced around, and ended up reading this old, beat-up paperback book about group of scientists that get stuck on an alien planet.
But my mind wandered. I kept thinking about getting the hell out of that house. I couldn’t stay there, not without a phone at least. There was nothing for me to do but read that stupid book or stare at the floor or go downstairs and have to deal with that asshole Luca.
I couldn’t stay anymore. Not without my phone, not without my one form of entertainment, the one thing that was distracting me from all this horrible stuff. And even with the stupid thing, I thought I was going to leave anyway.
This just sealed the deal.
So I leaned back, closed my eyes and started to plan.* * *Around noon, I heard some noises downstairs, like someone was stomping around in heavy boots. I lingered near my bedroom door then snuck out. The pounding got louder, so I crept down the stairs, trying not to make any sound as I stared down under the railing and into the living room.
And found Luca, shirtless, wearing a pair of shorts, sweat rolling down his body. There was some workout program on TV with a lot of jumping up and down and he was following along, grunting and sweating as he dropped down, did pushups, popped back up, did squats, and basically ran around the living room.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
He looked back at me but didn’t seem surprised to see me there. “Working out.”
“I can see that,” I said. “You’re being loud.”
“Come join me,” he said, a little out of breath. “This is a good one.”
“You do, like, TV workouts?”
“I’m streaming it from your phone.”
“That’s my data, asshole.”
“I’m kidding, I’m using my laptop.” He did a complicated move where he dropped to the floor, pushed up, clapped, popped back up to his feet. “This house has fucking Wi-Fi.”
“I didn’t know that.” I lingered and watched him as he finished up the video. He ended with a series of squats into more pushups, sweat rolling down his muscular chest and arms. When he finished, he stood and grunted and breathed hard, walking around the room with his hands on his hips. I stared at his abs, at the black tattoos on his skin, and felt my lips part just slightly. He turned and met my gaze, and a little smile slipped across his lips.
“Normally, I wouldn’t do a video like this,” he said. “But I’ve got to be here all the time, so it’s the best I can do.”
“Sure,” I said. “Makes, uh, makes sense.”
“Come down and do one with me,” he said. “I’ve got more in me. I’ve got a lot of stamina.”
“No, no thanks,” I said and looked away.
I had to tear my gaze from him. If I didn’t, I’d keep staring at his muscular chest and lose my nerve entirely.
“Suit yourself.” He walked over to the couch and picked up an old white towel and wiped himself off.
“So, uh, I came down for a reason,” I said.
“Oh, I thought you were just here to stare at my body.”
“No,” I said, and realized I said it too quickly. I had to clear my throat and start again. “No, I came down to ask a favor.”
He went still and stared up at me. I finally forced myself to meet his gaze, even though I didn’t want to see the sweat rolling down his finely sculpted chest, over his perfectly shredded abs.
“What can I do for you?” he asked and it nearly killed me.
“I’m hungry,” I said. “And there’s no food in the house.”
“I can go to the store,” he said. “Is that what you want? Or do you want me to order in?”
“Store,” I said. “I don’t want junk.”
“Fine.” He shrugged a little, wiped off his arms. “Make a list. I’ll go after I shower off.”
“Okay, great.” I hesitated. “Make a list with what?”
“Pen and paper in the kitchen,” he said. “Notepad’s hanging on the refrigerator, pens are in the drawer. If you came down a little bit and looked around, you’d know this stuff.”
I walked down the steps and breezed past him. “Sorry, I’m busy hiding away from the weird hulking asshole that’s doing lunges in the living room.”
He laughed as I went into the kitchen, found the paper, found the pen, and made a quick list. I put a little thought into it because I didn’t want to be too obvious, and when I was done, I ripped it off and left it on the table.
