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The idea of feeling empty again so soon makes Luca whimper in a way that she’s sure she’d feel embarrassed about if she had more presence of mind. As it is, it’s the only way she can think to communicate the instinctive, desperate need to stay close.
Luckily, Florence seems to understand. “All right,” she soothes. “Let me just . . .”
Florence rearranges them so she’s propped against the headboard with Luca sitting in her lap. The change in angle draws a small noise from Luca. She’s shaking, a little bit, the same way she sometimes does after a show, when all the adrenaline wears off.
Fingertips trailing up and down Luca’s spine, Florence asks, “Was it good for you?”
There’s a thread of anxiousness in her voice that has Luca trying her hardest to put together a coherent sentence. “I think you melted my brain,” she says, muffled against Florence’s skin. Not her best work, but it makes Florence relax underneath her, so it’s probably all right.
“You did so well,” Florence tells her. “Took it like a dream.”
Luca smiles, sleepy and pleased. She likes this so much: Florence’s heart beating against hers, Florence’s mouth kissing lazily down her neck, the drowsiness settling over her like a blanket. She could fall asleep like this, probably, tucked small and pliant into Florence’s lap, the weight of Florence still inside her. The idea makes her heartbeat stutter.
“Can we stay like this for a bit?” she mumbles.
Florence shifts, settling more firmly against the pillows. Her tone makes something warm and tender settle behind Luca’s ribs. “Anything you want.”
Breathing slowly into the dark, safe space between Florence’s neck and shoulder, Luca closes her eyes. She drifts like that for a while, Florence’s fingers drawing patterns on her skin while Luca mouths mindlessly at her collarbone.
“I think you need to find a new drummer,” she says once her brain starts to come back online. “I’m all jelly now.”
One of Florence’s hands settles lightly on the nape of Luca’s neck. “Impossible,” she says. “I told you. I’m keeping you.”
“Oh,” Luca says. Her mouth quirks into a dopey grin. The sunlight is warm and Florence smells like her shampoo and she doesn’t have to be at work until three. This might be the best morning of her life. “All right, then.”
Major Note Hot 100—Week of July 19, 2025
15 cry about it
popsicle
16 Are you happy now?
Ragebait
↑ 17 swallow me
Scorpio Season
18 3 More Seconds
COSMONAUTS
19 Summer Without You
Jackie Ace
36
“Have you heard anything from your dad?” Luca asks over breakfast an hour later.
Florence snorts into her cereal. “Of course not. Apparently, he only thinks of me when he’s on talk shows.”
It doesn’t come out as bitter as it might have last night. It’s difficult to feel any resentment while she’s sitting in Luca’s cluttered kitchen, the window cracked to let in a rare July breeze as the old radio on the counter plays the third “song of the summer” in a row.
Leaning back on her chair legs, Luca hums thoughtfully. Her hair is mussed and still damp from the shower they took earlier. In a black tank top and loose jeans, she’s almost painfully handsome. Florence’s eyes keep getting caught on her bicep and the stark ink of the fresh tattoo there. “I still don’t get why he did it.”
“Earl thinks he wanted to restore his image. Like having a lesbian daughter somehow negates all the homophobic bullshit he spewed.”
