CH -3-

Luca's POV:

My brows furrowed, wondering what was going on. Everything happened in a flash, and my brain could not access it. Then I heard something rolling. I looked around and tried to find what that was, only to feel something rigid hit my foot. I craned my neck down to see a short black narrow board with wheels on the bottom rolled to stop next to where I was standing.

"Where did this skateboard come from?" I muttered under my breath.

"That's for hurting an innocent kid." A guttural voice that belonged to a guy made me look up from the ground.

There, standing next to the girl, was someone around my height. An unfamiliar face. A brand new one.

Who was he? I asked myself. I had never seen him around, even though I had been here more often than I had been at my house.

He wore a navy blue hoodie with khaki shorts, exposing his slender white legs and rounded kneecaps. His face stayed hidden behind a baseball cap, but I could still make out its oval shape. It went so well with the high cheekbones, upturned eyes, and rosy, plump lips.

For someone who had always been a narcissist and straight, I could not deny that this guy was handsome. Strange enough, even though I just ejaculated a few hours ago, my pants tightened around the zipper.

My lips parted, wanting to ask him who he was, but a commotion interrupted me.

"Oh, my baby. Why did you run from me? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" A woman in her early thirties rushed to where the crying girl was and knelt. She brought the small body into her chest, gently embracing the little girl and patting her head.

I wanted to scold her for leaving her child unattended. But I held back when I saw rivulets of crystal drops trickling down her face. Judging from her white blouse that somehow turned into a see-through because of sweat, I thought the woman had enough.

However, it seemed the other guy did not think so.

"Where have you been?" He asked. His voice was bitter as he looked down at the mother and daughter with an emotion-dead face.

"I.. I," the woman stuttered. She cringed under the pair of angry eyes.

"Don't you know how dangerous your daughter was? Because of your neglect, she could have been killed."

"W-what? K-kill?"

"Yes, you heard me right. K-I-L-L. Kill. A man held a knife against her throat."

"Why?"

"How the hel—" he paused, clearing this throat. "How do I know?"

"T-thank you for saving my girl. I.. I…"

"Mommy!" cries the girl as if the bicker made her uncomfortable. "Mommy, I'm scared. I want to go home."

"Go," he said. "And take care of your daughter. Don't lose her again."

"I-I won't. Thank you." The woman got up to her feet, carrying the girl with her. "Okay, babe. Let's go home." She scurried away to the main street without throwing a glance at me.

Not that I blamed her. The whole situation was too much for her to handle. Besides, I had been standing still and soundless like a statue. It would not be strange if someone did not notice my presence.

But he did.

"How long do you plan on standing there?" He turned to me. No. He walked to me.

Now that he was close, I got a full view of his polished white skin and a pair of doe-like brown eyes behind those upturned frames. He gulped as he headed my way. And I did not miss the way his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down as it followed the movement of his saliva. When he was next to me, I caught a whiff of peach nectar, making me draw in a deep breath even though it was unnecessary.

"Are you mute?" He asked.

"No."

"Good. I thought you were since I'd never heard you utter a single word."

I can't process any words because your beauty is freezing all the functioning organs inside me, I thought to myself.

I would have said the sentence aloud if the one in front of me was a beautiful maiden. But how the hell was I supposed to say that flirting line to a guy? Even if he really was a beauty—or maybe handsome, since most guys prefer to hear this—it still felt weird to me to breathe those words out loud.

"Anyway, don't stay out too late, kid."

Kid? I woke up from my thoughts. Did he just call me kid?

I wanted to protest and told him I was already twenty-two. But he was already out of earshot. Skating on his skateboard, the guy faded from view, leaving nothing behind. Not even his name for me to remember. I breathed in the last scene of peach nectar before it, too, vanished into thin air like its owner.

*******

I was finally inside the nightclub. I ignored a few flirting eyes of the ladies in skin-tight dresses that purposely lifted their already short skirts higher. It was uncharacteristic of me to ignore them. Even the bartender that somehow almost became my friend looked at me with his face titled in confusion. I bet it surprised him how I declined the delectable invitation from human beings who had boobs on their S-curved bodies.

However, I bet he would be even more shocked if he knew that my head was busy thinking about someone that did not have boobs.

To put it simply, a guy.

"I wonder if I'll meet him again," I murmur to myself, gulping down whatever cocktail the bartender made for me.

The picture of that guy was still vivid inside my head. It was like I had already taken a screenshot of him and stored it in my memory. I did not know what was happening inside my head and why I was thinking about him right now. The only thing I knew was that I regretted not asking him for his name.

I know it was against my policy—my one-night stand policy. I had drawn a firm line ever since I started this lifestyle. I would never ask for the girl's name when we had sex. I found it troublesome for my brain to store someone's names when I never cared to see their faces again. But with him, it was different.

I held the glass in hand, swirling the half-empty spicy peach margarita with my eyes darted around the colorful neon light and flashing disco ballroom. It was like I was searching for something, though I didn't know what it was.

Suddenly, they stopped. Just like pausing a video on a specific scene, my eyes fixated on one spot.

There, on the secluded table at the corner of the room, was the person I least expected to see.

I bottomed up my cocktail in one breath and put the glass down, louder than I had expected. Then I jumped off the stool. I made a beeline to where my eyes had been focusing, ignoring the girls' seducing touch on my forearm, chest, or butt as I walked past. There was no way I let this chance slip away again.

<TO BE CONTINUED>