OH.
The word slipped out unbidden—barely more than a breath—but it carried enough weight to make his entire body go still.
His eyes widened.
His face flushed.
The kind of bright, full-bodied embarrassment that lit up every inch of him from his collarbone to the tips of his ears.
His lips parted, though no words came. Only a shallow breath as the realization of exactly where he was, and how close they were, sank into his chest like a slow burn.
Xavier didn't move. Didn't speak.
Just looked at him.
He remained perfectly poised, balanced above him in the tight cockpit, one hand braced beside Luca's head, the other resting lightly at his waist. The space between them was nearly nonexistent. One of Xavier's legs had slipped between Luca's, their thighs pressed close in the cramped angle the cockpit allowed.
Patient. Composed. Dangerously serene.
And far too pleased.
