CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

LILY

Luca is rushing down the stairs, his head bent as his fingers hurrily do his zipper. A woman comes running after him; her hair is messy, her dress is crumpled, her skin is flushed, and her makeup is ruined. His lips are swollen; I can't tell if it's from the kiss we shared or from the kiss he shared with the woman clinging to his side. His hair is tousled—he even let her touch his hair. The moment he notices me, he stops dead in his tracks, and I can see the guilt clearly written in his eyes. They had sex.

But Why?

My first instinct is to run away, but knowing Luca, he will never run after me to seek me out. It's too beneath him.

There's a familiar ache growing in my throat. I push it back. I won't cry. Not here, not now. Not over him again. I won't cry. The woman pushes at him, willing him to continue moving, but he doesn't bulge; his eyes are still on me. The woman looks between us, and I recognize her—the same girl that shamelessly threw herself at him at the beach. So