If hating something could be called a favorite.
Every key—each rising note—resurrected her pain because she could remember in perfect detail just how much agony had filled her heart when she created the piece years ago. All of her music was like that. A lot like her past, too.
The music helped, though.
In some ways.
She was able to lose herself in the sound of the music, and the notes coloring up her mind, as she flipped page after page in the file. The information about the trust fund and restitution payment from her father was as overwhelming as confusing as she thought it would be.
Then again, it was also clear.
One hundred million dollars. Delivered after her eighteenth birthday. Nine and a half more months. If only money could solve the rest of her problems, then Penny wouldn’t have any to bother her, right?
Bullshit.
Lost in the file, Penny didn’t hear the footsteps outside the music room until a throat cleared. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, as her gaze landed on the man standing in the doorway. For a brief second, panic welled in her throat in the form of a lump that kept her air stuck in her windpipe.
It took a second ...
And then another for her to calm. Breathe.
Luca Puzza raised a hand to wave; a silent hello before he said, “Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Roz’s brother, and Naz’s best friend, waited for her to reply. She didn’t. It was kind of hard when her heart raced so fast beneath her ribcage that it felt like the organ was about to explode. Except it wasn’t from fear, now.
She saw the man around every now and then. Of course, he came to visit his sister, and she was sure he worked with Naz, too. The guy was just ... there. The thing was, Penny didn’t know how to deal with Luca. He was always kind, gave her space, and never looked at her without a smile on his face.
A handsome smile, she’d noticed.
The same way she noticed that he had the most striking green-blue eyes, and a face carved by God. High, sharp cheekbones and a jawline to die for. The intensity in his expressions couldn’t be matched, she thought. He was tall, but not lanky. With hands that looked like he knew how to work.
He was also twenty-four.
Or twenty-five?
What did it matter?
He was too old for her.
And she didn’t understand why she noticed any of those things about him at all. It wasn’t like the guy indulged her in conversation because she certainly didn’t go out of her way to talk to him. She barely knew him at all.
She just ... liked the way he looked.
It was a stupid crush she couldn’t explain. One he didn’t know existed, and she was fine with that. It needed to stay that way.
“You okay?” Luca asked, his grin warm and beautiful.
Penny swallowed hard, thinking, no. She suddenly didn’t know how to talk when he was around and she hated that, too. “Fine—I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Not at all.
3.
Luca
“FINE—I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Luca asked.
Because the girl didn’t look fine.
At all.
Her wide eyes looked like large, blue moons. Clear, like the color of freshly frozen ice, he thought. There was something haunted in her stare and while he couldn’t see any fear staring back at him, he figured she must be. The tint of pink in her pale skin and the straightness of her back spoke of her discomfort at the very sight of his interruption.
Luca hadn’t meant to be a shit.
The girl was like a kitten. Small-featured. Pretty. Skittish at the slightest provocation.
Vulnerable.
A beautiful, terrified kitten.
There was no denying the very sight of her could invoke all sorts of feelings from the people around her. From the way she used her long layers of white-blonde hair as a curtain to shut the world out to the dark clothing she drowned her figure in and kept hidden from view. She radiated an aura of distress constantly. He’d noticed it over the past few months that she’d been living with his friend and sister. Whenever he came over to visit Roz or Naz, it was hard to ignore the way Penny shrunk away from any visitors, not wanting to engage.
It was like a person couldn’t stop themselves from wanting to help her. In any way they possibly could, too.
Luca wasn’t an exception to the rule.
Especially not now when he was sure his surprise intrusion had upset her. Considering some of the things he knew about her past—regarding men, specifically—it wasn’t a shock. It also caused his stomach to twist with guilt. The last thing he wanted was for her to think that she was in danger around him.
On the scale of good to bad, Luca fell on the latter end of the spectrum ... on paper. Because of his raising, the family he was born into, and the last name attached to his legacy, he was who he was. Crime was crime, right? He also thought he wasn’t entirely bad—he did have a moral compass, to some regard. He wasn’t a fucking monster.
He should just leave the girl alone.
She still hadn’t even replied to his question.
Instead, he at least wanted to try to make her comfortable before he got out of her sight. Luca grinned, saying, “Really, I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t know anyone was home when Naz asked me to stop and grab something out of his office for him. I would have shouted at the front door to warn you had I known you were back here when I heard something this way.”
Penny kept staring.
Silent.
She swallowed hard enough for him to hear it, though.
Shit.
He had freaked her out.
Damn.
Now he felt worse.
Luca wasn’t even going to try to fix the situation when clearly, he wasn’t doing a very good job in the first place. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, the squeak of his leather jacket loud in the resounding quietness of the music room, he said, “I think it might be better if I just go, yeah? I’ll see you later, Penny.”
That said, he turned to leave.
Later, he could give Naz a heads up and apologize for whatever episode Penny might have because he was a dumbass. If she did ... Naz said it happened sometimes. Usually because of school or therapy, but apparently anything could bring it on if the situation was stressful enough. Luca didn’t know what those episodes entailed, but he hated the idea that he might cause one just by being there.
“The music,” he heard blurted behind him, “it’s mine.”
Luca’s shoulders tensed, his steps hesitating. “What?”
Softer, Penny explained, “The piano. You heard my music. But it’s ... mine. My composition.”
Glancing over his shoulder, but not wanting to give the girl the impression he planned to stay when she was already uncomfortable, he said, “Oh.”
Like a fool.
Just oh.
Quickly, he added, “The song is beautiful.”
It had already stopped playing. Just shortly after he first interrupted whatever she was reading in the file on her lap, actually, but he didn’t notice until then in the midst of everything.
The red tint in Penny’s cheeks became deeper at his praise, and her gaze dropped down to the file in her lap. It caused a wave of her hair to drop in front of her face at the same time, but he was pretty sure he had seen the hint of a smile curving her full, soft pink lips before it was gone from sight.