Aria’s pov
The city blurs past the windows. Manhattan at night is all neon signs, bike headlights, and music spilling out of open shops. Luca drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between us.
I’m dressed in dark jeans and a soft gray knit sweater. I clutch my bag to my lap like it's a shield.
“You’re quiet,” Luca says, glancing over.
“Regretting this already?”
“No,” I say. “I'm just… not used to hanging out with you outside the penthouse.”
He smirks. “You'd better get used to it, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” I ask.
“Office hours are over,” he says. “I figured I had earned the right to call you that tonight.”
A laugh escapes me. “You’re negotiating nicknames now?”
“Only the important ones.”
He taps the screen and music fills the car.
“You sure
