One Tent, No Escape (Luca)

I was so fucked.

And not in the good way.

Standing outside the tent, watching Sienna wrestle with the poles like they’d personally offended her, I had to bite back a smirk.

“Need help, Sunshine?”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, not looking up as she struggled to drive a stake into the dirt.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Alright, Sienna—do you need help?”

She huffed. “I got it.”

Yeah. Sure she did.

I watched for another thirty seconds before stepping in, easily driving the stake into the ground with my boot.

She scowled. “I could’ve done that.”

“Of course you could’ve.” I grinned, grabbing the other pole and securing it in place. “But at this rate, we’d be sleeping outside.”

She muttered something under her breath, but I was too busy not staring at the way her shirt had ridden up to expose a sliver of smooth, golden skin.

Focus, Russo.

By the time we finally got the tent up, the sky had darkened, the campfire was lit, and dinner was being passed around. But before we could even sit, the first rumble of thunder rolled through the air.

Sienna stiffened beside me.

A cold gust of wind followed.

And within minutes, the sky opened up.

Shouts erupted across the campsite as people ran for cover, and before I could even react, Sienna grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the tent.

“Inside—now!”

I stumbled after her, laughing. “Jesus, alright, I’m coming—”

We barely made it before the rain poured.

She sat cross-legged, arms wrapped around herself, hair damp from the sudden downpour.

Outside, the rain battered against the tent, wind howling through the trees.

“Well,” I said, shaking out my hoodie. “Looks like we’re in for the night.”

Sienna exhaled sharply. “Great.”

I arched a brow. “You sound thrilled.”

She shot me a look. “I’m trapped in a tiny tent with you—how else should I sound?”

I grinned. “Excited?”

Her glare could’ve set me on fire.

I reached for my bag, pulling out a spare hoodie. “You’re cold.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

I tossed it at her.

She caught it with a scowl. “I said I’m—”

“Put it on, Sienna.”

Her lips parted slightly, like she wasn’t used to being told what to do.

For a second, I thought she’d throw it back.

But she didn’t.

She swallowed, then quietly pulled it over her head.

Something about seeing her in my hoodie made my stomach tighten.

Made something inside me shift.

I cleared my throat. “See? Not so bad.”

She muttered something about annoying rugby players under her breath.

I just smirked.

And then the thunder boomed.

Loud. Close.

Sienna flinched.

My smirk faded. “You scared of storms?”

“No,” she said too quickly.

Liar.

I leaned back on my elbows, studying her.

The way she avoided my gaze.

The way her fingers curled into the sleeves of my hoodie.

The way she was still shivering.

Before I could stop myself, I reached for her wrist.

She tensed. “Luca—”

“Relax.” I tugged gently. “Come here.”

She hesitated.

Then, slowly—so slowly—she let me pull her closer.

I shifted so we were both lying down, my body half-draped over hers, her head tucked under my chin.

She was so fucking warm.

Her breath hitched. “This is a bad idea.”

I smirked against her hair. “Probably.”

Silence stretched between us.

Outside, the storm raged.

Inside, all I could hear was her breathing.

Slow. Unsteady.

She should have pulled away.

But she didn’t.

And neither did I.

I exhaled, tightening my grip.

“Sleep, Sunshine.”

And against all odds—she did.