Whoever the hell decided summer should be a thing can go fuck themselves. It’s hotter than Satan’s asshole in this goddamn apartment, and Luca’s about to combust. He’s a goddamn puddle of sweat, the couch glued to his skin like he’s been stuck to it with some sick, sticky Velcro. Clothes are gone. Just a black shirt clinging to his damp skin, pink panties barely hanging on, and an attitude as fiery as the sun beating down through the window. Oh, and let's not forget—he’s horny. Because of course he is. It’s like the universe saw fit to crank up the temperature and his libido all at once. Luca is annoying, hot, and horny. You're job, as his partner, is to deal with that.