AMORE O LUSSURIA (LOVE OR LUST)

The city hummed beneath her like a restless heartbeat. From up here, the skyline glittered like diamonds, lights flickering against the velvet night. Ava leaned against the edge of the rooftop bar, her glass slick with condensation, fingers damp as if the drink itself was sweating in her hand. She lifted it to her lips, the taste of citrus and cheap vodka sharp on her tongue. The bass from the DJ’s set rolled through her body, steady, like a second pulse. The rooftop was alive with heat perfume and sweat mixing in the summer air, laughter cut by shouts, as people pressed closer to the music. Ava tilted her face up to the sky. No stars. Just the heavy glow of the city, neon lights painting the clouds in bruised shades of purple and pink. For a moment, she let her mind wander anywhere but here. She wasn’t supposed to be here. But Maya had insisted. “You need fire in your life, Ava. Books and coffee shops aren’t cutting it anymore. You can’t keep waiting for Prince Charming to knock on your door. He’s at a rooftop party, wearing cologne and bad intentions.” Ava had laughed it off at the time, rolling her eyes. But now, pressed against the railing with her heart strangely restless, she wondered if maybe Maya was right. Maybe she was waiting. Maybe she didn’t even know what for. “Smile,” Maya said, appearing at her side with a drink of her own. Her lipstick was already smudged, her dark curls bouncing as she swayed with the music. “You look like you’re at a funeral.” “I’m fine,” Ava said, forcing a small smile. “You’re stiff. Like you’re scared someone might actually notice you.” Maya’s grin was mischievous. “Trust me, they notice. Half the room’s been sneaking glances since we walked in.” Ava shook her head. “Not my kind of attention.” Maya rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. “You’re impossible. Look, just… open yourself up a little. Talk to someone. Maybe even dance. One night won’t kill you.” Ava didn’t answer. She let her gaze drift across the rooftop, past the clusters of strangers pressed too close together, the glowing drinks raised high, the laughter sharp as glass. She felt like an observer, not a participant. A ghost hovering at the edge of other people’s lives. And then she felt it. That unmistakable heat.Someone was looking at her. Her breath caught. It wasn’t like the other glances quick and dismissive.This gaze was different. Steady. It pinned her where she stood. Slowly, her eyes searched the crowd until they found him. He leaned against the bar like he had been born there, drink in hand, posture loose in that infuriating way that screamed ownership. Dark hair fell across his forehead, sharp jawline catching the neon light. Women lingered near him, orbiting without touching, their laughter loud and brittle. But he didn’t look at them.He looked at her. Ava’s stomach twisted. Heat flared up her neck. She dropped her gaze quickly, pretending to swirl the ice in her glass. “Don’t,” Maya warned, voice low but urgent. She followed Ava’s gaze and groaned. “Oh no. Absolutely not. That’s Ethan Cole.” Ava glanced sideways. “You know him?” “Everyone knows him. He’s…” Maya searched for the word, lips twisting. “Trouble. Gorgeous, yes, but the kind of gorgeous that comes with a warning label. He’ll pull you in, burn you alive, and smile while he does it.” Ava snorted softly. “Relax. I’m not interested.” But her pulse betrayed her. When she looked back just to prove to herself that she wasn’t interested her stomach dropped.He was moving not eagerly. But steady. Deliberate. People called out his name, but he brushed them off with that careless kind of charm that made rejection look like a privilege. His eyes never left hers. Her grip tightened on her glass. She should move. She should turn her back, escape into the crowd. But her body wouldn’t obey. Her body wanted. By the time he reached her, Ava’s throat was dry. “Hey,” he said, voice low, coated in confidence. Up close, his eyes were darker than she expected, intense in a way that made her skin prickle. His lips curved into something between a smirk and a dare. “You look like you don’t belong here.” Ava blinked, pulling her walls up fast. “And you do?” He chuckled softly, leaning one hand on the railing beside her. He wasn’t even touching her, but his presence was overwhelming the clean cologne, the quiet gravity that drew her in whether she wanted it or not. “I make anywhere I go mine,” he said simply. Her chest tightened. It wasn’t the words it was the way he said them. Like it wasn’t arrogance. Just truth. For a moment, the rooftop noise dimmed. The music, the voices, the world blurred into nothing. There was only him, and the dangerous spark in his eyes that promised both pleasure and destruction. Ava’s brain screamed to remember Maya’s warning. He’s dangerous. He’ll ruin you. But her body was already betraying her drawn in, restless, hungry for more. When Ethan leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear, his voice was softer now. A whisper meant only for her. “I hope you’re not the type to run.” The glass trembled in her hand. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She already knew She was in trouble. The glass still trembled in Ava’s hand, though she tried to steady it. She hated that he had that effect on her that one stranger’s gaze, one arrogant sentence, could unravel her calm so completely. Maya shot her a warning look, then leaned in, whispering sharply: “I’m going to get another drink. Don’t you encourage him.” And then, of course, Maya disappeared into the crowd, leaving Ava defenseless. Ethan hadn’t moved. He leaned against the railing beside her, close enough that she felt the warmth radiating from his body, but far enough to make it clear he wasn’t chasing. He was waiting. Testing. “So,” Ava said finally, setting her glass down before she dropped it. “Do you do this with every girl you see standing alone? Walk up, say something cocky, and wait for them to swoon?” Ethan tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Do they usually swoon?” Ava rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not one of them.” His gaze swept over her, not crude, but deliberate enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re right. You’re not.” Her stomach twisted. Why did it feel like a compliment and a trap at the same time? She turned slightly, facing him now, one eyebrow arched. “And what am I, then?” His smirk softened into something more dangerous. “The kind of girl who knows better. The kind who tells herself she should walk away right now. But won’t.” Ava swallowed hard, hating that he was right. She forced a laugh. “You think you’ve got me all figured out already?” “I don’t think.” He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice so it cut through the music. “I know.” She fought the shiver threatening to betray her. “Wow. Confident and arrogant. What a combination.” “Arrogant?” His lips curved into a grin that was equal parts charm and provocation. “No. Just honest.” “Honest?” Ava laughed, though it came out a little breathless. “You haven’t said one honest thing since you walked over here.” Ethan shrugged, sipping from his glass. “I told you the truth the moment I saw you.” Her brows furrowed. “And what truth was that?” “That you don’t belong here.” Ava froze, caught off guard. For a moment, her chest ached because he wasn’t wrong. She had been thinking the same thing since she walked in. But she quickly masked it, lifting her chin defiantly. “Maybe I belong more than you think,” she said. He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “No. You belong somewhere quieter. Somewhere softer. Coffee shops. Bookstores. Maybe a Sunday morning farmer’s market.” Her jaw dropped. “You don’t even know me.” “I don’t need to.” His eyes lingered on hers, steady and unflinching. “You’re written all over yourself.” Ava’s breath caught. For a heartbeat, it was too much the weight of his attention, the way he seemed to see past her dress, her makeup, straight into something she hadn’t even admitted to herself. So she did the only thing she could. She fought back. “And what about you?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Let me guess you belong exactly here. Rooftops. Parties. Collecting girls like they’re trophies.” He laughed, deep and genuine this time, and the sound startled her. “Collecting girls? That’s not my style.” “Oh, really?” Ava teased. “Because it looks like you’ve got a fan club waiting at the bar.” He glanced over his shoulder, briefly acknowledging the group of women who still hadn’t given up watching him. Then he turned back to her, eyes locked on hers. “If I wanted them, I’d already have them.” The directness of it made her throat dry. “Then what do you want?” she asked before she could stop herself. Ethan’s smile faded into something sharper, hungrier. He leaned in just enough for her to catch the scent of his cologne again warm and masculine “You.” The word landed between them like a spark on gasoline. Her breath hitched, heat rushing to her cheeks. “You don’t even know my name.” He tilted his head, studying her with infuriating calm. “Then tell me.” Ava hesitated. Some part of her screamed don’t give him anything, but another part the reckless part was already caving. “…Ava.” Ethan’s lips brushed into a grin. “Ava,” he repeated slowly, as if tasting it. “Figures. Sweet, classic, almost innocent.” “Almost?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, definitely almost.” His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “I can already tell you’re trouble.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Me? You’ve got it backwards. You’re the trouble here.” “Maybe,” he said softly, voice curling around her like smoke. “But I think you like that.” Before she could respond, Maya reappeared, slipping between them with a protective glare. “Okay, fun’s over.” She shoved another drink into Ava’s hand. “Come dance with me, before this one eats you alive.” “Maya....” Ava started, but Ethan’s hand brushed hers, deliberately slow, stopping her words. “I don’t bite,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “Unless you want me to.” Maya groaned loudly. “God, you’re insufferable.” She tugged at Ava’s wrist. “Come on.” But Ava didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Ethan’s touch was light, barely there, but it anchored her. “Dance with me instead,” Ethan said suddenly, his voice a low dare meant for Ava alone. Maya scoffed. “Over my dead body.” Ava hesitated. Her mind screamed at her to go with Maya, to escape before she drowned. But her pulse betrayed her again. She looked at Ethan. His hand extended, steady, patient, but his eyes burned with that same storm she’d felt the moment she first saw him. Without thinking, she placed her hand in his. The rooftop blurred as he pulled her toward the dance floor. The music swallowed them whole bass vibrating through the ground, bodies pressed too close, neon lights flashing like lightning. Ethan’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer, and Ava’s breath caught as their bodies moved in sync. “You’re tense,” he said near her ear, his voice vibrating against her skin. “I’m fine,” she lied. “No, you’re fighting it.” His hand pressed against the small of her back, guiding her movements. “Stop thinking. Just feel.” She wanted to shove him away, to tell him he was wrong. But as the beat dropped and his chest brushed hers, she felt herself melting, matching his rhythm, surrendering to the fire sparking between them. It was dangerous. Reckless. Addictive. And when his lips hovered just an inch from hers, not quite touching, she realized she wasn’t just in trouble She was already lost.