Enjoy!

Luca's car smelled of denim and menthol. His father's vintage Cadillac ran smooth against the bumpy road. Although it was relatively easy to drive, you made the occasional jerk of the steering just to have Luca reach for the wheel, his hand momentarily caressing yours.

"You're doing good Y/N."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you just gotta get used to the rhythm of traffic."

"The rhythm of traffic." You nodded. It made sense. You were more relaxed driving at night, perhaps because there were less cars and people on the roads, meaning less chances of getting distracted or killing an innocent pedestrian. However, so far you've only driven at night once, and that was with Kenan, which does make Luca's assumption a valid theory. You have to get used to the rhythm of traffic at any hour.

"How about a break?" Luca suggested. "I have to pick some records up at the shop in town. You down?"

"Y...you want me....to come with you to the record store?"

"Sure. I mean you're the one driving anyway."

"Right. Of course." You squealed internally.

The record store was a neat little shop near the outskirts of town. It's where the cool people like Luca came to hang out. People that listened to retro music and detested the music industry as it was today.

"Hey, Luca. Come va?" (Luca, what's up?")

You felt honored walking into the music shop alongside someone like Luca. Everybody seemed to know him. Eager to greet him. Knowing how many friends Luca had outside of your little group made you wonder why he even bothered to hang out with you? You feared that once graduation happened that would change. Then again, you had the roadtrip to Bari to look forward to.

"Hey, Luca, what can I do for you?" Said the young lady tending the shop's counter. She wore ripped jeans and a tank top that matched her fiery afro. And just about every part of her face was pierced, lips, nose, ears and eyebrows.

"Armeni." Was her name. Luca said it with such grace and admiration that you couldn't help but to get jealous from their interaction.

"Do you have the new Gambino?"

"Childish Gambino?" You perked up. "

"Yeah, why?" Luca chuckled.

"I like Childish Gambino." You said, proud of the fact that you and Luca had something in common.

"I'm looking to buy the vinyl of his new record."

"Vinyl?" You frowned. "Isn't his new album out on Spotify. Why go through the hassle of buying vinyl? Do you even own a disc player?"

The silence from Luca and the girl was gut wrenching. They looked at you as if you just shouted insults, worse than anything Rihanna has said on her records.

"Vinyls are cool." The girl said, popping her gum. "Anyway...."Her eyes diverged from you to Luca. "Who is she?"

"Oh, Y/N?" Luca blushed. "She's just a friend."

The way he stammered and lost his usually cool composure lit a flame within you that wouldn't stop burning. You left the records store with Luca having gotten what he came there for. Perhaps he just wanted to see her, in the same way that you just wanted to spend time with Luca. There was no doubt about it, Luca was in love with the girl from the record store.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to drop you off at Gio's? Everyone is gonna be there."

"Thanks Luca, but my parents are probably waiting for me at home."

"Oh, okay."

Luca dropped you off at your house. You greeted Ilsa, the family chef, on your way past the kitchen and upstairs. She was getting started on dinner early, perhaps because it would only be you dining, your parents out of town again. She called you down once everything was set up and wished you a lovely evening before leaving for the day.

It was sad. You felt like crying. Luca didn't see you as more than a friend, meanwhile he was fantasizing about Armeni, the record shop bitch. And no, vinyls aren't cool. They're actually outdated and very cliche. Just like her...and Luca.

Your dinner was interrupted mid bite, as the bell to the front door rang. You were too lazy to check the security camera, opting the chances that it wouldn't be a burglar.

"Kenan?"

It was actually worse.

"Hi babe."

He stepped into your house, uninvited and with the audacity to lean in and kiss you on the mouth. "What's for dinner?" He said and proceeded to remove his shoes.

"Erm, I'm having pasta."

"Cool, did you leave some for me?"

"Erm, no? Why would I do that?"

He frowned. "Didn't you get my texts?"

"Texts, what text?" You checked your phone as you followed Kenan into the kitchen. There he made himself a plate while you went through your phone, having received numerous text messages from Kenan, the last one just from a few minutes ago.

Kenan: How's driving with Luca going? 😁

Kenan: Where is he taking you?

Kenan: Are you guys coming to Gio's or...?🤔

Kenan: Y/N, where are you, are you okay?

Kenan: Rebecca brought pizza. It's vegan though.🤮

Kenan: That's it, I'm coming to you.

You looked up from your phone. Kenan was stuffing pasta into his mouth. You looked down on your phone again, heart fluttering at his messages.

"Do you have anything to drink?" Kenan asked and you smiled. "Coke or Fanta?"

He snorted. "Coke, what else?"

You went over to the fridge. "I don't like Coca-Cola." You handed him the can.

"Well, then you don't have taste."

"I have taste." You joined Kenan by the table where your plate was already set. "I just prefer Fanta, that's all."

Kenan chuckled. "I guess you have taste."

"Thank you."

"In men, I mean."

"I doubt it." You laughed, the memories of today's visit to the record shop still burning within you.

Kenan stared at you blankly.

"What?"

"Your laughed just then, why did it change?"

Fuck. He heard it too. "No it didn't."

"It did."

"No it didn't, Kenan."

He shrugged, returning to nibble on his pasta.

"Where are your parents?" He asked, after a moment spent in silence.

"Work."

"Do they work often?"

"I guess you can say that."

"I know the feeling. "

"What feeling?" You snorted, Kenan's parents weren't diplomats. They didn't even live with..."

"Loneliness."

You closed your mouth.

"It gets pretty lonely sometimes, doesn't it?"

You shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Yeah me too."

"I'm glad I have you though."

"Me?" Kenan's eyes lit up.

"Not you alone." You coughed. "I mean you as in you guys, my friends."

"Oh, right. I guess that's true."

It was nice, not having to eat your dinner alone. Kenan was actually quite the company entertainment wise. One thing led to another and after playing Marco Polo in your pool, the two of you ended up upstairs, in your bedroom.

"Is this okay, baby?" Kenan spoke against your neck, his lips caressing your skin as his hips pushed against you.

"Yes." You moaned.

"Does it feel good, what I'm doing?" His hips kept at it, pressing your pelvis further into the mattress as he dicked you down, your pussy clenching around his length.

"Yes, Kenan. I want you, harder."

"Harder?" He raised his head, sweat dripping down his forehead, his hair still wet from the pool.

"Yes, harder." You said and pulled him down to kiss you, your fingers running through his hair.

"Trust me baby, you don't want me to fuck you harder."

"No?"

"No." He smiled and licked your lips as he kissed you again.

"What, you don't think I can take it?"

"It doesn't matter if you can or can't take it." He huffed. "I rather fuck you like this, slow and soft." Kenan's hands went to your hips, pinning them to the mattress as he went down on you. He kissed your inner thigh, slow and soft, and as he got closer to your slit, causing your legs to tremble as he did, you wondered if Luca was as good of a kisser as Kenan? Probably not.