Perfect by Design

34: Luca James

Gianna throws her head back, laughing. The sound is one of the warmest things I've ever felt.

"So you're telling me that wasn't good?"

"I—" she can barely get words out before she's flooded again with laughter. She snorts a little and immediately covers her mouth. It's cute. I smile over at her, and she starts laughing so hard again that she cries.

"Oh, Toro. You stalled out four times in the 15 minutes it took you to drive to the stop sign. Whatever is worse than horrendous, that's what this was."

"I don't care what you say; driving is not meant to be done with two feet. There is no reason for there to be three petals. I vote that you get a Porsche from this decade. I'll even compromise on it being from the last decade if you're feeling super frisky."

She stares at me for a moment, and it's like there are stars in her eyes. She tugs at the inside of her cheek again, and with the way her brows furrow, I can tell she's biting back a laugh.

"How was I to know Mr. "I'm good at everything" Luca James couldn't drive stick."

"I am good at everything." I scoff.

She shrugs and smiles at me. "You're pretty shit at this, Toro."

"You know, I looked up this pet name you seem to have developed for me. Toro means bull."

"I suppose it does." She clarifies (nothing) sweetly.

"Any particular reason you drive a car older than you are?" I grip her chin between my thumb and pointer finger, turning her head so that she faces me.

Gianna leans in until her lips are mere inches from mine. "I have an appreciation for things that have the affinity to surprise me. This car is so much more than meets the eye."

Her gaze locks on me, and a smirk tugs at her lips. I drop my hand. I'm not even sure why. Regardless, neither of us move.

"I think I could drive us home." I was actually breaking out into a sweat trying to make it across this parking lot as Gianna tried to teach me to drive stick, but she doesn't have to know it (even if she saw it).

She tugs at the collar of my shirt, climbing across the center console until she straddles me. My breaths become shallow as she leans in close, her lips pressed to the side of my ear. "Not in this life or the next one." She whispers.

By the time I blink, she has opened the driver's side door, climbed off of me (much to my dismay), and is standing outside of the car with her hands on her hips. She reaches in and tugs me out of the car, quickly replacing my body with hers in the driver's seat.

"Well, get in, loser. Time to show you how the professionals do it."

"Professionals?" I arch a brow at her.

"Shame you wouldn't know anything about it. Gosh, I have so much to teach you." She smiles at me and shakes her head.

"I've never been so eager to learn." I quickly close her door and head to the car's passenger side, climbing in.

"Guess you aren't the genius they say you are."

"Is that why you have such an appreciation for me, Bella?"

An almost imperceptible amusement passes across her face. "I never said I was surprised." She changes gears, and her eyes may be focused on the road, but I'm not sure I ever want to take mine off of her.

Gianna steps inside my apartment, her heels clashing with the hardwood floor. She's a tiny thing, barely coming to my chest in her five inch heels.

She's dressed in Chanel, literally from head to toe. It isn't an overly loud outfit with the brand on every inch of the fabric. It's a pink and white form fitting dress that stops mid thigh with pearl buttons lining the middle.