Real Fake Love (Copper Valley Fireballs #2)(37)

Maybe with a female therapist this time.

Or virtually, with the voice distorted to intentionally sound like a robot.

The bathroom door slams shut, and the shower curtain wrenches open at the back of the tub. “They’re leaving,” Luca tells me.

“That’s not necessary. I know I’m not a supermodel, or even attractively curvy, and—”

“Quit making excuses for people who are total dicks to you.”

I blink at him.

Dogzilla, who’s been sitting at the edge of the tub, cautiously climbs down into the shower to rub my legs while the needle water pelts her.

And Luca keeps scowling, which is unfortunately as hot as him smiling, and my backstabbing body is not immune.

Not in the least.

He needs to leave before he starts to smell me.

His green eyes are going dark. “As long as you’re living under this roof, you’re going to talk back to dicks and you’re going to have a spine. Understood?”

I nod once.

His cheek twitches. He glances down at my body once more, and then he yanks the shower curtain closed.

The door clicks a moment later.

And I don’t know what happened, but I do know one thing.

I’m in a mood to write something hot and sexy for the first time in ages.





15





Luca



I’m hustling my mother out the door when she pauses to give me a hug and follows it with one of those mom looks. “I’m not trying to be an asshole to Henri. I do know how it feels to be let down by a man, and I am taking that into serious consideration with my own next steps, but if Henri is honestly going to be a part of your life, then she needs to know what she’s up against stepping foot into this family. Especially with your grandmother being who she is. And if she’s something you’re doing to get your grandmother off your back, she deserves better. I’d rather scare her off thinking I’m the ass than have her leave with the wrong impression of the man I know you can be.”

“You can do that without being a dick.” She can, can’t she?

Hell, I don’t know.

Can I be involved with Henri in any capacity without being a dick? Probably not, because she definitely shouldn’t get close.

I shake my head. Problems for another day. “Also, maybe try being the bigger person the next time Nonna baits you.”

That earns me an eye roll. “I will when she does.” Her brows furrow, and she opens her mouth like she’s going to say something else, then sighs, kisses my cheek, and walks away, leaving me realizing I don’t actually know what else she wanted in her trip out here beyond the same as Nonna—making sure I’m alive since I’ve been avoiding everyone’s phone calls.

Unease settles into my bones as she pulls away from the curb in her rental car.

Probably partly because there’s clearly something on her mind that she didn’t want to talk about, and I’m guessing it’s Jerry.

Partly because showering with Henri was weirdly fun, even if it was embarrassing as hell that Mr. Winky was playing Mr. Dinky.

Partly also because Henri’s undoubtedly going to either dig into her research about me, or want to talk about my father and why I drive Fluffy Maple and live in run-down houses and what went wrong with my own wedding, and I don’t want to talk about any of that.

I want to play baseball. Be in my happy place.

I don’t have crises of who am I? when I’m on the field. I have the sun, the crack of the bat, tossing a ball with kids in the stands between innings, and goofing off with my teammates.

Nonna clomps down the stairs with her luggage, taking a video of herself that’ll undoubtedly be up on TikTok with funky captions on it within an hour, because she’s making faces and lip-syncing something at her screen.

I grab her bag and help her over the bad step.

She pockets her phone and pops out her earbuds, shaking out her long unicorn hair. “I don’t know what your mother told you about Henri, but she’s wrong.”

Now it’s my turn to give a look. “Oh, you like Henri now?”

“Of course I like Henri. She’s off her rocker, but that’s what makes life fun. You need fun. Also, don’t tell her I said that. A woman has to keep up appearances while she’s making sure her gut feeling is right. I’ll be back early next week to check on her progress with you. Don’t do anything stupid. Remember Alonzo.”

“We’re this close to making the playoffs. Can I please get through this season first?”

“Fate waits for no games.” She pats my cheek. “Gotta dash. Pierre-Luc is waiting for me up in DC. We’re gonna TikTok everyone’s socks off for a long weekend.”

“Have fun.” I wait until she’s unlocking her car to add in a mutter, “Maybe you should stay longer and help him with his love life instead.”

“I heard that, Luca Antonio.”

I’m still in a bath towel, and the neighbor across the street is standing in her front window with a phone, which means she’ll probably be trying to sell a half-naked photo of me to a gossip rag soon, so I step back inside and let myself sag against the wall for a minute.

Time to go see Henri.

This whole fake relationship thing has been a shitshow. She couldn’t have known what she was volunteering for yesterday morning, and being this close to what almost feels like a relationship is making me break out in metaphorical hives.