Perfect by Design

36: Luca James

"You know, it's almost been two months since that initial photo was released, and neither of us has confirmed or denied anything," Gianna says as she scrolls through her phone.

We're in my office on the couch. I was supposed to meet her for lunch, but I had a meeting run late, so I had to cancel. Lucky for me, Gianna still wanted our lunch date, so lunch came to me.

So, here we are, me sitting on one side of the couch and her on the other. Her legs are stretched out, crossed at the ankle, and resting on top of my thighs.

And I don't know how we ended up like this. Everything is just natural and comfortable.

"I suppose we haven't." I shrug and take a bite of my veggie lo mein.

"Kind of defeats the purpose of what we're trying to do." She pauses. "Right?" There's a hesitation in her voice—a vulnerability.

I nod. Why has neither of us gone out of our way to put this ruse front and center? We're together almost every day at this point. We could've gotten plenty of content. We've been photographed together on numerous occasions. So, what exactly are we doing?

"A part of me doesn't wasn't the staged and forced photos. I— I know what we are, and I know what we aren't. This isn't forced. So, what if we don't go out of our way to confirm anything, but we help paint the narrative the world is already spinning."

"But does that help you with Andrew?"

She gulps and toys with her fingers. "I guess maybe it doesn't." Her eyes float up to mine, and she's completely disarmed. Funny enough, I think I've been disarmed since I walked into that cafe.

I rest my hand on her ankle, and her eyes flutter closed.

"Luca, maybe—"

"Get this photo." I interrupt her. I didn't know what she was going to say, but I knew I was not ready for whatever it was.

"What photo?"

"The view from my office window. But make sure you get my hand wrapped around your ankle in the corner of the picture. Between the Richard Millie watch and this same office that was just featured in architectural digest, we'll be confirming without confirming. You can caption it something simple like 'Love the view from here.' People will eat it up."

"Oh. Yeah, that's a great idea." She trails off. I watch as she snaps the photo. I turn to look out of the window because I can't handle how I just snuffed the life out of whatever was happening between us."

"Got it." She whispers.

I turn to look back at her, but her phone is still in her face. "Just some fine tuning." She mumbles. "Your image is shit, after all. Gotta pick our photos wisely."

"When do you head to New York? The offer to take my plane still stands."

My hand still rests on her ankle. She hasn't asked me to move it, and I haven't made any effort to. She finally lowers her phone, and her eyes find mine.

"What good is the plane without the pilot?"

"Is that your way of asking me to come with you?"

She darts her tongue out to wet her lips. Then she looks down, and her shyness sets me on fire. I tug at her ankle, pulling her closer to me.

I grip her jaw, and the sparkle that's haunted my dreams takes over her eyes. "Do I have to ask nicely?" She leans in, her lips brushing mine with each word.

"Bella, if you don't want me to kiss you, I need you to tell me n—"

Her lips crash into mine. I cup the side of her face as she reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck. There is no hesitation as our tongues tangle together. It doesn't matter how we got here of how this started. I know, with certainty, Gianna is just as affected by me as I am by her.