Page 5 of Scorpio Season

Florence is almost disappointed at this news, and she has to actively fight against her body’s impulse to slow down.

A moment later, they reach Luca’s street, and Luca’s fingers drop away from Florence’s wrist.

“This is me,” Luca says, gesturing at the house next to them.

Shivering and out of breath, Florence nods. Her dark curls are plastered to her forehead. Water is dripping down her nose and gathering in her lashes. “All right. I’d best keep going. I think this might’ve been a terrible idea.”

With her hands stuffed into the pockets of her baggy trousers, Luca shifts on her feet. Her gaze is fixed on a point somewhere to the left of Florence’s face as she says, “Or you could come up to my flat. Warm up for a bit.”

Florence freezes.

In her split second of hesitation, Luca scrunches her nose and says, “God. Sorry. That sounded like a bad porn intro. Never mind. You should probably—”

“I liked how it sounded.”

Now it’s Luca who stills. The look on her face clearly broadcasts something to the effect of I can’t believe that worked. “Really?”

The Wheel of Fortune flashes in Florence’s mind again. Seize the opportunities that present themselves to you. “Yeah.”

“Oh. Wow. I mean, right. Um. Follow me?”

Florence pinches her own arm to make sure she isn’t dreaming as she trails after Luca to the front door. She’s not sure what she’s doing. She’s never done anything like this—gone home with a complete stranger. Miray would freak out if she knew. Izzy would probably high-five her, which is usually not a sign she’s making a smart decision.

It occurs to her that it would be incredibly stupid to get herself murdered on the same night her dream finally starts to become a reality. But by that point, Luca has already unlocked the door and is ushering her into the stairwell, and really, she looks more nervous than Florence feels.

In for a penny, in for a pound, Florence thinks.

She follows her inside.

2

Luca’s flat is on the second floor. “My flatmate is out,” she tells Florence as she unlocks the door. After stepping out of her shoes, Florence follows her through the narrow corridor to the room at the very end. “Sorry it’s a bit messy. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“You don’t make a habit of picking up strangers at bus stops?” Florence asks.

Luca breathes a small laugh and sets her duffel bag down next to the door.

Florence lets her eyes roam around the room. It’s a comfortable sort of cluttered; photos cover most of the wall above the desk, and little trinkets are strewn across most free surfaces. Luca apparently listens to the kind of music Earl has in his car—hanging above the bed are posters featuring Nirvana, Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers.

“I like your room,” Florence says as lightning flickers outside the window.

“Thanks.” Luca throws her a smile over her shoulder while she rifles through her closet. A moment later, she finds a towel that she offers to Florence.

In the mirror next to the door, she can see herself. The white blouse tucked into her high-waisted black slacks is near-transparent, clearly showing the outline of her wine-red bra. Her dark hair is clinging to her neck. Her cheeks are flushed, and her dark eyes are blown.

She looks utterly debauched, and they haven’t even done anything yet.

“Thank you.” Her fingers brush against Luca’s as she accepts the towel.

They dry off in silence. When it’s not dripping wet, Luca’s hair reveals itself to be a warm copper. With every movement, the muscles in her back flex through the fabric of the dark shirt sticking to her skin.

Florence drapes the towel over the chair by the desk. “So,” she says. “Just so we’re on the same page. You did invite me up here to have sex, right?”

When Luca flushes, it spreads all the way down her neck. “Um.” She turns around to face Florence again. “Only if you want to.”

“I do,” Florence says. “Do you?”

Luca’s eyes are already drifting down, tracing the outlines of Florence’s body through her clothing. Her quiet “Yeah” comes out breathless.