Chapter 6
Maya stretched her arms high above her head with a satisfied sigh, the lingering buzz of wine mingling with the warm, comforting fullness of lasagna still echoing in her belly. She felt pretty fantastic—maybe a little too fantastic.
Meanwhile, Carina moved with effortless grace, collecting empty wine glasses and tidying up the remnants of their impromptu dinner date. “Alright, bella,” she said, her tone a mix of playfulness and authority, “I think it’s time, that I drive you home, no?”
Maya’s eyes snapped open as she fumbled for her phone. One glance at the screen had her nearly dropping it: 01:17 AM.
“Shit,” she muttered, her voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and dread.
Carina raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her lips quirking. “What?”
Maya let out an exaggerated groan and slumped dramatically against the table. “If I leave now, I’ll get approximately two hours and fifty-six minutes of sleep before I have to be up for set. That’s basically a nap. And you won`t get much sleep either, if you drive me home and then return here. Please, let me stay.”
Carina tilted her head, pretending to consider the request. “Hmm. And where exactly do you plan to sleep? The kitchen floor? Because that’s all I’m offering.”
Maya gasped, clutching her chest as if deeply wounded. “Wow. The cruelty. The absolute lack of hospitality.” Then, with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she clasped her hands together in an overly dramatic begging motion. “I can sleep on the couch, the floor, the bathtub—I’ll even sleep outside if I must! Please, Carina...I`ll be quiet. You won`t even notice me.”
Carina bit her lip, clearly fighting back a smile. “You? Quiet? Doubtful.”
Maya pressed a hand to her heart, feigning offense. “I can be quiet!”
Carina gave her a slow, knowing look. “Maya…You were basically talking so much tonight, that my ear fell off.”
Maya blinked. “You mean I was talking your ear off...”
With an exaggerated sigh, Carina leaned back in her chair, arms crossed as if weighing her options.
“Fine,” she relented. “But only if you swear you won’t keep me up all night with your endless chatter and stop correcting me at American idioms.”
Maya grinned, leaning forward. “No promises.”
Carina muttered something in rapid Italian, which only made Maya giggle.
Rising gracefully, Carina dusted off imaginary crumbs from her dress and motioned for Maya to follow. “Come on, let’s find you something to wear before you decide sleeping in jeans is a good idea.”
Maya hopped up, trailing after her with a pleased little skip. The warm glow of Carina’s home, the heady mix of wine and laughter, the way Carina’s voice wrapped around her in that gorgeous Italian accent—it was all too intoxicating.
“Come on, bella,” Carina said as she opened her walk-in closet, her tone amused yet fond. “Let’s get you into something comfortable.”
Maya’s eyes danced over the neatly arranged rows of loungewear, catching sight of a pair of silk pajama pants and a loose-fitting top adorned with tiny shimmering stars. “Ooo, fancy,” she teased, running her fingers along the fabric. “Do I get the VIP sleepover treatment?”
Carina smirked, plucking the pajamas from their hanger and handing them over. “Of course.”
Maya placed a hand on her chest, mock-swooning. “You flatter me.”
Carina rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, watching as Maya disappeared into the bathroom to change. When Maya returned, the silk pajamas draping over her frame, her hair tousled from changing, Carina gave her a once-over, eyes glinting with something unreadable.
------------------
Maya plopped onto the guest bed with a content sigh. “I could get used to this.”
Carina arched an eyebrow. “Don’t get any ideas.”
Maya smirked, winking as she snuggled into the cushions. “Too late.”
Carina just shook her head, but the way her lips curled at the edges told Maya everything she needed to know.
Maya stretched her arms dramatically over her head. "Wow, these sheets feel like a hug from a baby cloud. Are all Italian guest rooms this luxurious, or are you just trying to impress me?"
Carina smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Oh, Maya, if I were trying to impress you, you’d know it."
Maya propped herself up on her elbows, her grin mischievous. "So this isn’t your best effort? Noted."
Carina rolled her eyes but stepped closer, her fingers grazing the soft fabric of Maya’s borrowed pajama top. "You, bambina, should be grateful I am letting you stay instead of sending you home in your little wine haze."
Maya gasped in mock offense. "How dare you! I am the picture of grace and dignity." She promptly proved herself wrong by attempting to sit up too quickly and nearly face-planting into the pillow.
Carina laughed, shaking her head as she perched on the edge of the bed. "Mm-hmm. Very graceful."
Maya wiggled her eyebrows. "Speaking of grace, since you’re being so kind and keeping me company, what’s the guest-room service situation like? Can I request a bedtime story? A lullaby? A—"
Carina cut her off with a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed beside her. "Maya, if I start indulging your ridiculous requests, we will be awake until sunrise."
Maya turned on her side to face her, eyes twinkling. "So that’s a maybe?"
Carina groaned but didn’t move. Instead, she reached out and flicked Maya’s forehead gently. "I swear, you are exhausting."
Maya beamed. "And yet, here you are. Voluntarily staying in the guest room."
Carina exhaled, letting her head sink into the pillows. "Dio mio, what am I going to do with you?"
Maya smirked, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Keep me?"
Carina turned her head, their faces suddenly inches apart. Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Trouble like you? I just might."
Maya’s breath hitched—just slightly—but before she could react, Carina sat up and stretched. "But first, sleep. No more talking, I will see you domani."
Maya pouted but scooted under the covers, watching as Carina stood and smoothed out her dress.
"Buonanotte, Maya," Carina murmured, turning toward the door.
Maya grinned as she nestled into the pillows. "Sweet dreams, Carina."
Just as Carina reached the door, Maya called out one last time, voice teasingly soft. "Hey, Carina?"
Carina glanced back, arching a suspicious brow. "Cosa?"
Maya smirked. "Just so you know… I totally look irresistible in these pajamas."
Carina chuckled, shaking her head as she disappeared down the hall. "Sì, sì, whatever helps you sleep."
Maya fell asleep grinning.
------------------
Maya woke up at 4:45 AM, feeling strangely refreshed—probably the best night of sleep she’d had in weeks. The guest bed was insanely comfortable, the sheets smelled faintly of lavender, and she didn’t even have her usual tossing-and-turning episode.
As she blinked herself awake, a thought struck her: Carina had been incredibly nice to her last night. First, she’d fed her, then she let her stay over, and now Maya was just going to lounge around like a freeloader? No. Unacceptable. She needed to repay this kindness.
A brilliant idea struck.
Maya would make her coffee.
With a determined nod, she climbed out of bed, stretched, and made her way toward the kitchen. The house was still quiet, the early morning light barely creeping through the windows.
When she stepped into the kitchen, her eyes landed on an unfamiliar contraption sitting on the stove—an odd-looking silver coffee pot.
“Oh,” Maya murmured, approaching it with a squint. “This must be one of those… Italian coffee thingies.”
She’d seen one before. Somewhere. She was pretty sure she knew how they worked. Probably. It was just coffee, right? How hard could it be?
She grabbed the moka pot, unscrewing the bottom and squinting at its inner workings. Water in the bottom, coffee grounds in the middle… right?
After some trial and error (including spilling an embarrassing amount of coffee grounds all over the counter), she managed to assemble the pot and place it on the stove. She turned the heat up and stood back, grinning in satisfaction.
A few minutes later, she was thrilled to see something dark and coffee-like bubbling up into the top chamber.
She did it!
Maya poured the perfectly normal-looking coffee into a cup, admiring her work. It smelled… kind of like coffee. Strong. Very strong. But hey, coffee is coffee, and Carina would totally appreciate this.
Feeling very pleased with herself, Maya turned—
—and promptly choked on her own spit.
Carina had just entered the kitchen.
Wearing nothing but a black silk lingerie over matching underwear.
Maya’s brain shut down.
Carina didn’t seem to notice Maya’s entire existential crisis and simply stretched with a soft yawn. Her hair was a little messy, her skin was still warm from sleep, and—good God—Maya was going to die.
Carina turned her hazel eyes on Maya, then glanced at the cup of coffee in her hand. Her expression immediately shifted into suspicion. “What… is that?”
Maya cleared her throat, trying very hard to make eye contact and not stare at Carina’s ridiculous model body. “Uh, it’s coffee. I made you coffee. Because, you know… you let me stay the night, and I wanted to be nice, and—”
Carina was already approaching, eyeing the cup like it was a biohazard.
Maya, still incredibly distracted by the situation, just shoved the cup toward her. “Try it.”
Carina took the cup with an arched brow and sniffed it. Her nose scrunched slightly.
Maya bit her lip. Oh no.
Still, Carina brought the cup to her lips and took the smallest sip.
And then—
Her entire face contorted in disgust.
"Madonna santa!” Carina physically shuddered, immediately placing the cup down on the counter like it was poison. She turned to Maya, looking personally offended. “What is this?!”
Maya blinked, caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to disappear into the floor. “Uh… coffee?”
“Questo non è caffè!” Carina’s voice was almost pained. “That is an abomination! What did you do?”
Maya crossed her arms, pretending to be very insulted. “Excuse me, I made that with your fancy Italian coffee maker thing! I followed all the steps!”
Carina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dio mio, Maya, sa di bruciato, è un disastro!" (It tastes burnt, it's a disaster!) I am Italian. Coffee is sacred. This is a crime against my entire country!”
Maya lost it. She burst into laughter, practically wheezing. “Oh my God, it’s not that bad!”
Carina pointed at the cup like it had personally betrayed her. “It tastes burnt!”
Maya doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach. She hadn’t meant to make bad coffee, but Carina’s reaction was golden.
Carina groaned, shaking her head in genuine disappointment. “You are never allowed to touch my moka pot again.”
Maya wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling. “Noted.”
Carina sighed, grabbing the cup and dumping it unceremoniously down the sink. "Farò il caffè." (“I will make the coffee.”)
Maya was still grinning like an idiot when Carina turned to the stove, grabbing the moka pot with the elegance of someone who had been making espresso since birth.
Maya, however, was still stuck on one crucial detail.
Carina. In lingerie.
Her brain had barely recovered from the initial shock, and now, with Carina standing there—moving around the kitchen like she wasn’t currently a walking, breathing fantasy—Maya was losing the ability to function.
She cleared her throat, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if that would somehow keep her cool. “So, uh… do you normally make coffee in your underwear, or is this, like, a special treat?”
Carina smirked but didn’t turn around. “I live alone, Maya. This is my home. Why would I wear anything more?”
Maya swallowed. Oh.
“Right. Of course. Totally logical. No complaints.”
Carina finally glanced over her shoulder, her lips curling into something undeniably wicked. “Hmm.”
Maya squinted. “Hmm? What’s ‘hmm’?”
Carina shrugged one delicate shoulder, clearly enjoying herself. “Nothing. Just… you are acting very shy again.”
Maya scoffed, straightening up immediately. “Pfft. I’m not shy anymore.”
Carina turned fully now, leaning against the counter with an infuriatingly slow stretch, her arms rising above her head. The move did things. Distracting things.
Maya forced herself to keep eye contact.
“I think you are,” Carina mused, tilting her head like she was studying a fascinating specimen. “You’ve barely looked at me all morning.”
Maya huffed. “I have looked at you plenty.”
Carina arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Maya realized, too late, that she had walked directly into a trap.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Opened it again. Nope. Nothing smart was coming out.
Carina chuckled, pushing off the counter and stepping closer. “Maya…”
Maya backed up instinctively, only to realize she was now trapped against the edge of the kitchen island. Her hands gripped the counter like a lifeline.
Carina leaned in slightly, just enough for Maya to catch the faint scent of vanilla and something warm—sleepy, cozy, devastatingly inviting.
“What’s wrong?” Carina teased, her voice lower now, silkier. “You look… flustered.”
Maya scoffed, praying she looked even slightly unbothered. “Me? Flustered? Please. I just—uh—I haven’t had coffee yet.”
Carina hummed, pretending to consider this. “Mm. Maybe that’s it.”
Then, just as Maya thought she might actually combust, Carina turned away like nothing had happened, going back to her precious espresso-making.
Maya exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand over her face. “You’re evil.”
Carina laughed, pouring the freshly brewed espresso into a small cup. “Oh, bella. You have no idea what evil looks like.”
She placed the cup in front of Maya, watching expectantly. “Here. Try real coffee.”
Maya took a cautious sip—and immediately moaned.
She didn’t mean to. The sound just… happened.
Carina’s eyes darkened instantly.
Maya froze. Oh. Oh no.
“That good, huh?” Carina’s voice was practically purring now, amusement laced with something heavier.
Maya swallowed hard, cheeks heating. “It’s—it’s fine.”
Carina chuckled, taking a sip from her own cup. “You are adorable when you lie.”
Maya groaned, dropping her head onto the counter. “I hate you.”
Carina grinned, swirling her espresso. “Back to this topic, again? The answer is still: No, you don’t.”
And damn it, she was right.
--------------------
Maya prided herself on a lot of things. Her athleticism. Her ability to power through a hangover. But above all, she prided herself on being on time.
So when she glanced at the clock and saw 6:15 AM—exactly fifteen minutes past the time they were supposed to leave—her stomach twisted.
She stood in the kitchen, already dressed, tapping her foot as she waited for Carina to magically appear. She had given her space, let her get ready at her own pace, and had even resisted the urge to rush her.
But fifteen minutes?
Unacceptable.
Maya inhaled deeply through her nose. Stay calm. Maybe she’s just putting on shoes. Maybe she’s already at the door and—
A loud, frustrated groan echoed from down the hallway.
Maya’s head snapped up. Not at the door. Definitely not at the door.
She took off in the direction of the noise, following it to Carina’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and Maya knocked twice before pushing it open.
And then she froze.
Carina’s entire bed—her very large, very luxurious, very inviting bed—was covered in clothes. Dresses, blouses, jackets, pants—everything was scattered in a chaotic mess, like a hurricane had rolled through and decided to specifically target designer fashion.
And in the center of it all stood Carina, wearing only a matching lace bra and underwear. Again.
Maya’s brain? Fried. Absolutely fried.
“What—” She cleared her throat when her voice cracked. “What are you doing?”
Carina threw her hands in the air. “I cannot decide what to wear!”
Maya blinked, processing a thousand things at once but choosing to focus on survival. “Carina, we’re already late.”
Carina shot her an exasperated look. “Sì, I know, but this is important! I cannot just wear anything, Maya!”
Maya gestured wildly at the mess. “You literally own a small boutique’s worth of clothes! Just pick one!”
Carina let out another groan, flopping onto the bed dramatically, arms spread out. The movement caused one of her straps to slide down her shoulder, and Maya absolutely did not notice. Nope. Not at all.
Maya crossed her arms tightly, shifting her stance. “We are going to be late. I am going to get yelled at. You are going to get away with it because everyone loves you, and I will be left standing there, looking like an idiot who can’t manage a simple schedule.”
Carina propped herself up on her elbows, smirking. “Ah, so this is about you.”
Maya groaned, running a hand through her hair. “It is about the fact that I have never been late for set before, and I’d like to keep it that way!”
Carina hummed, her smirk deepening. “Mm, Maya, you look so stressed. Maybe you need to sit down. Relax a little.”
Maya narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare try to distract me.”
Carina definitely dared. She rolled onto her side, resting her head on her hand, looking up at Maya with pure amusement. “Distract you? Me?” She dragged a hand slowly—so slowly—down her waist, feigning innocence. “Why would I do that?”
Maya made a strangled noise and turned on her heel. “I am leaving this room in exactly one minute. If you are not dressed, I am dragging you out in whatever you’re currently wearing.”
Carina gasped dramatically. “Maya, you would not.”
Maya was already halfway out the door. “Try me.”
Behind her, Carina laughed, finally pushing herself off the bed. “Va bene, va bene! Give me two minutes.”
“One!” Maya called, not stopping.
Carina just chuckled. “You are so fun when you are all flustered.”
Maya did not dignify that with a response.
But as she power-walked back to the kitchen, face still burning, she couldn’t help but think:
Carina absolutely did that on purpose.
--------------------------------
The drive back to set was… something.
Maya sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Carina’s sleek black Porsche, her fingers tapping idly against her thigh. She was trying not to stare. Trying so hard not to focus on the way Carina’s fingers gripped the wheel, the way sunlight streamed through the windshield and kissed the curve of her jawline, or how the scent of her perfume lingered in the small, enclosed space.
She was failing. Miserably.
After last night’s dinner, the teasing, the lingerie, and this morning’s coffee disaster, Maya had to admit the truth. She was doomed.
She, Maya Bishop—former champion of emotional detachment—was completely, utterly, and irreversibly in love with Carina DeLuca.
Which was a problem.
A big one.
Because Carina, despite all her shameless flirting and the way she made everything feel electric, was currently wearing that closed-off expression again.
Like she had rebuilt a wall over dressing this morning.
The Carina from last night and this early morning—the one who laughed with her, who playfully tormented her, who made her feel like she was floating—was gone. Now, she was all business. Focused. Quiet. Unreadable.
Maya tried to shake off the nagging discomfort settling in her chest. Maybe Carina was just not a morning person. Or maybe she was still recovering from Maya`s accidental attempt to assassinate her taste buds.
Still, the silence felt heavier than it should.
She swallowed, then cleared her throat. “So… thanks again. For last night. And for, you know, not kicking me out after I nearly poisoned you.”
Carina’s lips curled into a small smirk, but her eyes stayed on the road. “You’re welcome.”
That was it.
Two words. No teasing. No flirting. No fire.
Maya studied her, searching for something—anything—that might explain the shift. Carina’s grip on the steering wheel was tighter than usual, her knuckles faintly tense. Her fingers tapped against it, an absent, rhythmic motion, like she was keeping herself occupied, like she had something to say but was holding it back.
Maya’s stomach twisted.
She turned toward the window, biting the inside of her cheek. Why did this bother her? It wasn’t like she needed Carina to flirt with her constantly, right? It wasn’t like last night had to mean something to Carina.
Or did it?
The memory of Carina`s flirting, teasing. Carina in her lingerie making Maya espresso—slow, unhurried, like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
Maya squeezed her eyes shut for half a second. Damn it.
She wanted that again. More than she should.
She risked another glance at Carina, and for a brief moment—just a flicker—Carina’s gaze slid toward her. It wasn’t much, but something about the way her lips parted, the way her fingers hesitated against the wheel, made Maya wonder.
Like maybe—just maybe—Carina was feeling this, too.
But then the moment was gone.
Carina exhaled softly and refocused on the road, her expression unreadable once more.
And Maya… didn’t like it.
---------------
Carina kept her hands steady on the wheel, but inside, her thoughts twisted, tangled.
This wasn’t just about Maya.
Not entirely.
It was about the way this morning had felt—too easy, too natural. Like slipping into a rhythm she had no business falling into.
Like before.
Like Arizona Robbins.
Carina exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers tightening against the leather of the steering wheel before she forced them to relax.
She hadn’t thought about Arizona in a long time. Not really. But now, in the quiet weight of the car, the memories pressed in on her like ghosts.
Arizona had been intense. Passionate in a way that could be exhilarating one moment and suffocating the next. She had swept Carina off her feet with grand gestures, with whispered promises in the dark, with the kind of attention that made Carina feel like the center of the universe.
Until she didn’t.
Until that intensity turned into control.
It had started small. Little things. A hand lingering on her wrist when she tried to leave too quickly. A suggestion, said lightly but with an edge, about what she should wear, where she should go.
Who she should be.
Arizona had loved her fiercely. But she had also needed her—needed to own her in a way that left Carina breathless, trapped.
And for too long, Carina had let it happen.
Because love wasn’t supposed to be easy, right? Passion like that—it demanded things.
But one day, she had looked in the mirror and barely recognized herself.
So, she had walked away.
And she had sworn—sworn—never again.
She wouldn’t let herself be swallowed whole by someone else’s fire.
And Maya Bishop was fire.
That was what scared her.
And this morning, when Maya had moved around her kitchen like she belonged there, Carina had felt that old fear creeping in.
What if Maya wanted to consume her, too?
What if she woke up one day and realized she had let herself become someone’s possession again?
Or worse—what if Maya didn’t really want her?
What if this was just about sex, about the thrill of something new?
Carina had spent too long being the fantasy—the Italian woman with the accent, the beautiful distraction, the exciting adventure. People always wanted her, but they never saw her.
She glanced at Maya again.
Was she different?
Could she be?
Carina wasn’t sure.
And that terrified her more than anything.
Carina exhaled softly, fingers loosening on the wheel. Maybe she was being unfair. Maybe she was running before there was even a reason to.
-----------------
The Porsche pulled into the studio lot, and Maya forced herself to take a deep breath, steeling herself. She had scenes with Carina today. If Carina was going to be all distant and unreadable, Maya needed to get her head on straight.
She couldn’t let this—whatever this was—get in the way.
Even if every part of her wished she knew what Carina was thinking.
Even if a tiny, stupid part of her wished Carina would look at her the way she had last night or this morning.
With that infuriating smirk.
Before she could spiral, the driver’s side door clicked open, and Carina stepped out without another word.
Maya sighed, grabbing her bag and hopping out as well, jogging to catch up.
And then—of course—the universe decided to ruin her day even further.
Because standing near the trailers, waiting for them, was Robert Sullivan.
Tall. Handsome. Smug as hell.
Maya already knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth.
Robert Sullivan—one of the lead actors on the show, one of the most annoying people Maya had ever met, and a notorious flirt—apparently was completely obsessed with Carina.
And now he had spotted them together.
“Well, well, well,” Robert drawled, his lips curving into a knowing smirk as he sauntered toward them. “Look who finally decided to show up.” His eyes flickered between Maya and Carina, his smirk deepening. “Together.”