29. Magical

“What?” Luca casts Jet a sideways glance. “Not what you were expecting?”
Jet shrugs. Instead of a high end restaurant, they are in a small family owned eatery, tucked off the main streets. Each wall is decorated with framed photographs of what Jet assumes are the owner and his family. Strategically placed ceiling lights cast a subtle, cozy glow over the teak tables and chairs spread across the tiny dining area. An aroma of spices mingles with the scent of the orchids in tiny vases on each of the tables.
Luca’s table is already reserved and what seems to be his usual order—Pad See Eiw, green curry and papaya salad—is ready before they sit down. Every employee seems to know Luca’s name, engaging in light banter as they pass by. Luca introduces Jet, who is welcomed just as warmly. One or two of them gave Jet dark looks, annoyed that Luca was apparently no longer single.
Jet raises his eyebrows at the equally warm and somewhat flirtatious greetings from both male and female wait staff. “Close friends of yours?”
“Actually, I dated most of them.” Luca’s gaze remains firmly fastened on Jet. “Before I chose you.”
Color creeps up Jet’s face, and he can’t think of anything to say.
“Why would you want to modify a perfectly good Regera?” Luca smiles to take the potential accusatory sting out of his question.
“That idea was Kam’s, not mine.” Jet corrects him, digging into the green curry. “He likes to push boundaries.”
“I see.” Luca cocks his head. “And you don’t?”
“Depends on the boundary that needs pushing.”
“Is that why you studied criminal justice at uni and then turned to cars?”
“Are we back to icebreakers again?” Jet raises his eyebrows, answering Luca’s question with another question.
“I can ask you a more interesting question if you want.” Luca shrugs. “Did Kai tell you what he stole yet?”
As if to answer Luca’s question, Jet’s phone buzzes. Jet forces his fingers to stay around his spoon instead of straying to his pocket. “I haven’t seen Kai since he went back to work on Monday.”
“What about your sister?” Luca toys with his Pad See Eiw, his voice deliberately casual.
Jet shakes his head, grateful that his mouth is full of papaya salad, so he can concentrate on his little white lie before he vocalizes it. “Haven’t heard from Mali either.”
“You know, the corporate world is like a game of chess.” Luca mutters. “Every move, win, and loss matters.”
That catches Jet’s attention. “You sound like you have first hand experience.”
“Yeah.” Luca smiles, but the shutters drop down over his eyes. “Eat your food. We have somewhere else to be.”
“This isn’t the magical place you were telling me about?”
This time the smile reaches Luca’s eyes as he recognizes Jet’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Just eat your food.”
After dinner, instead of heading toward the more upscale shopping areas, Luca drives in the opposite direction, to Talad Rot Fai.
The streets and stalls of the large, well known night market bustle with its usual eclectic mix of vintage treasures, and street food. Jet’s recently filled stomach groans and his mouth waters at the smell of spices and sizzling meat.
Stalls were ingeniously set up under tents, inside cleverly converted vans, and on makeshift ground coverings, enticing passersby with an array of wares: antiques, knickknacks, jewelry, and both vintage and modern fashion items. Bits of conversation from pop up bars and food vendors mingle with the strains of live music that add an extra flavor to the organized chaos. Luca navigates through the riot of textures and colors, drawing smiles and conversation as effortlessly as he crafted cocktails.
“You really are a walking contradiction.” Jet admits.
Luca winks. “And an intriguing one.”
Jet’s lips twitch. The market’s energy mirrors Luca’s own charisma, making him even more captivating. They pass stalls overflowing with vintage clothes, quirky antiques, and handmade crafts. The aroma of sizzling street food mingled with the sweet scent of fresh flowers, creating an intoxicating blend that hung in the warm night air.
The stark contrast to his last night market visits is not lost on Jet. It had been smaller, the atmosphere had felt charged with apprehension, and he had moved through the stalls without really seeing them. The only conversation he’d had was with a very sulky Kai, over food Jet bought just to have something to do with his hands.
Jet’s conscience twinges at the thought of his younger brother. All through dinner, throughout most of the evening in fact, his phone had buzzed, and Jet had ignored it. He knew all the texts were from Kai, and he was pretty sure he knew what they were about. But right now, he just wanted to think about something other than OmniVentures. Not push it to the back of his head like he’d done last time, but actually forget about it for an hour or two. Luca was still a distraction, but maybe tonight, he could be a welcome distraction.
And a better one than a Black Russian.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been here before.” Luca’s voice pulls Jet out of his thoughts.
Jet shrugs. “I used to come here a lot when I was at uni. Not so much now.”
“And then what?” Luca gives Jet the once over. “You became a big important COO, so your sense of fun went down the drain along with your taste in clothing?”
Jet isn’t entirely sure if that’s a joke or not. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing that can’t easily be fixed.”
Luca pauses next to one of the stalls. Racks of clothing stretch out in every shade and style imaginable, from traditional to modern chic. Classic trench coats, embroidered dresses and leather jackets hang opposite brightly colored blouses, tailored blazers, more modern jackets and jeans in various cuts, creating a kaleidoscope of fabric and color. On impulse, Luca pulls one of the leather jackets off its hanger, holding it up for Jet to see.
Jet raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to wear that in Bangkok?”
“Nah,” Luca laughs, swatting him with the jacket sleeve. “This is for when I go back to Milan, provided it fits.”
He’s already trying the jacket on, and it molds perfectly to his body. Jet feels an unpleasant constriction inside his chest when Luca talks about returning to Milan, which makes no sense because if Luca’s parents live for part of the year in Italy then of course he’d go visit them. It didn't mean Luca was leaving for good. And why should that matter so much to Jet anyway?
It shouldn’t.
It doesn’t.
It doesn't matter, and these are not thoughts Jet should be having right now.
“Yep, definitely for Milan.” Luca peels off the jacket and turns to the vendor to begin bargaining. He had only worn it for a couple of seconds, but the humidity coupled with the weight and density of the leather had soaked the back of his shirt.
Jet can count every one of Luca’s muscles through that shirt.
And every time he counts, his fingers tingle with the urge to touch.
“This.” Luca’s eyes light up with excitement as he holds up the next clothing article for consideration. “This would look amazing on you.”
It’s a silk shirt, vintage cut and beautifully tailored. The light from the fairy lights hung around the stall catch on the azure fabric, making it shimmer. Now Jet’s fingers are tingling with the urge to trace over the smooth surface of the silk in front of him, but maintains his composure, raising an eyebrow instead.
“It’s the same color as your car.”
“And you looked pretty damn good in my car.” Luca quips. “Try it.”
Jet shakes his head. “You said I owe you clothes.”
“Never said the new clothes were for me, did I?” Luca extends the shirt toward Jet. “Try it on.”
Jet glances around the crowded stall and the street just outside. “Where?”
“Hang on.”
Luca goes back in the direction of the vendor, who is now occupied in bargaining with another potential customer. Waiting for the opportune moment before approaching the vendor calmly, Luca discreetly holds up the shirt and gestures subtly towards the space behind the stall, indicating a need for privacy. The vendor, catching his gesture, nods understandingly, glancing around to ensure no one was nearby. With a reassuring smile, she subtly motions toward a secluded corner behind the stall.
Luca acknowledges her with a respectful nod and a slight wai, thanking her silently, then returns to Jet.
“She said we could try it on behind the stall.” He grabs Jet by the wrist and drags him behind the stall, out of sight of the general public. “Come on.”
Luca’s hand is warm, and his grip is tight, giving Jet no option but to follow him. The area behind the stall is smaller, quieter, almost deserted. Walls of other stalls create the perfect makeshift changing room.
Jet clears his throat, trying to shake off the surreal feeling of being so close to Luca in such an intimate space. “You're serious about this.”
“Trust me,” Luca hands the shirt over in one deft motion. “Just try it on.”
Jet hesitates before unbuttoning his current shirt. The night air brushes against his skin, hot, but not the same temperature as Luca’s presence. He slips the new shirt over his shoulders, feeling the azure silk sleeves glide down his arms. The fabric drapes perfectly over his frame, subtly catching the light. Luca’s gaze is completely focused on Jet.
“Brings out your eyes.” Luca steps forward, adjusting the collar. The brush of his fingers sends spasms down Jet’s spine and into other places Jet should not be thinking about in public.
“I like it.” Jet murmurs, his voice barely audible.
There is genuine warmth in Luca’s face. “Told you.”
Neither of them moves for a moment. The air feels charged, magnetic. Jet meets Luca’s gaze, and those black eyes pull him in, adding to the rush of excitement and uncertainty building in Jet’s chest. There’s a vulnerability in Luca’s eyes that Jet hasn’t seen before, raw and intriguing.
“Thanks.” Jet realizes he’s not just talking about the shirt, but for everything else too. He doesn’t have to force himself to enjoy tonight--he’d done it without thinking.
“You don’t have to hide anything from me.” Luca murmurs.
The kiss starts slow--a tentative exploration. Luca’s touch is electric, but he is also patient, allowing Jet to set the pace. Jet sucks in a breath, deepening the kiss. Then lips part and tongues dance and fingers roam along necks, down backs and in hair, tracing muscles and causing skin to pebble.
Tugging, nipping, tasting.
Mouths press harder, deeper.
Luca’s taste matches his cologne: dark, and intense and intoxicating. The air seems to pulse around Jet, a raw and heady sensation, creating that magnetic force that draws Luca closer. Luca’s lips move in dizzying patterns, his tongue teasing and exploring. Every touch sends waves of heat through Jet’s body, setting every one of his nerves on fire. When Luca finally pulls back, he is equally breathless.
“Best decision I ever made.” Luca’s thumb moves in a slow circle, tracing along Jet's jawline, then his bottom lip, gauging each reaction.
“You said that before.” Jet’s heart is threatening to break through his ribcage.
“I did, and I meant it.” Luca softly confirms. “No games, just honesty. All you have to do is let me in.”
Jet doesn’t pull back. “AB.”
Luca’s fingers stop tracing and his brow furrows. “I’m sorry?”
“My blood type,” Jet clarifies. “It’s AB.”
“Ok.” Luca still looks confused. “I never asked you for that.”
“No, but you asked for almost everything else. The least I can do is willingly give you something you didn’t ask for.” Jet leans closer. “This is me letting you in.”
Now Luca is smiling. “You’re annoying.”
“I’m the one who says—”
Luca’s lips shut Jet up. That earthy, spicy aroma of Luca’s cologne fills Jet’s head again as he breathes it in. Luca was right—this place is magical.
Luca pulls back a second time, his smile wider than it was before. “Let’s get you back into your comfort zone before the night market decides we've been missing for too long.”


Read from beginning: "1. Ignored"