A Place in the Sun

  We’d started early, when the sun was still hidden in the clouds, but not long into the hike, the sun made its appearance, scorching us from above and making the hike just that much harder.

  I could hear the sizzle against the back of my neck and legs. Cicadas welcomed the heat, humming louder than ever in the short trees dotting the trail.

  Halfway through the ascent, Gianluca, Taylor, and I reached a sort of plateau in the center of a shady tree grove. The group was sitting there in the shade, resting and drinking water. Paolo and Matteo had reclined back on their hands with their legs outstretched. It looked as if they’d been there ages, waiting for us to show up, and I reddened, embarrassed at how much longer I was taking than the rest of the group.

  Fortunately, Sofia and Katerina looked near death as well.

  “I think I’ll hang back with you guys for the next leg,” Sofia said, still trying to catch her breath.

  I nodded and accepted the water bottle Taylor handed to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re doing great,” he said, coming to take the seat beside me.

  “Not quite what you had in mind visiting Vernazza, right?” My words were dotted with my measly attempts to catch my breath.

  He narrowed his eyes, thinking over my question, and then he turned his full attention to me. “It’s actually really great. They have trails like this back in Seattle. It’s not quite as sunny, but the views are spectacular.”

  “Oh? That sounds lovely. The sun is the part that’s getting to me, actually. It’s been so cool down in Vernazza, I didn’t realize it could get so hot up here in the mountains.”

  He turned to dig into his backpack and pulled out a little red handkerchief. “Here, this bandanna has been wrapped around my water bottle. It’s ice cold and you can wrap it around your neck.”

  I nearly sighed with relief when the chilled fabric hit my skin. I tied it around my neck and grinned.

  “Thanks.”

  “You look like a cowgirl,” he said with a funny little smile. It was then that I realized Taylor was flirting with me. Up until that point, I’d been smiling along, content to have a chat, but then I realized Taylor was looking at me the way blokes did when they fancied a girl: hopeful, swoony, a bit overeager.

  I blanched and stood, wiping the dirt from the back of my denim shorts.

  “Are we ready to head on?” I asked.

  Gianluca came up beside me and together, we took up the lead at the front of the group. We trekked on in silence for a bit, the only sound coming from our feet crunching against the dirt. I could feel his attention on me and I turned to glance at him from beneath my lashes.

  He was wearing a little grin.

  “Don’t even say it.”

  “What?”

  “I can see the wheels spinning in your head, Gianluca.”

  “I was just going to compliment you on your fancy red bandanna.”

  “He was just being nice,” I hissed right before properly tripping over my next stair. “See! You were having a go at me and made me trip.”

  He reached down and hauled me back to my feet, brushing the dust from my bare legs. Even when I was clean, he didn’t remove his hand from my upper arm. He took some of the weight for me and half carried me up the next few flights of stairs. It was all a bit macho man for my taste, but honestly, it felt good. At that point, my feet were just two massive blisters.

  “I know I shouldn’t, but I haven’t felt this jealous in a long time, Georgie,” he said, his tone low enough that the others couldn’t hear.

  I arched a brow. “Scared I’ll run off to the new world with a hunky American?”

  His eyes narrowed. I’d pushed a button and I liked it.

  “Maybe I will. It worked for my brother; he found a nice American girl.”

  He shook his head, having had more than enough of me for the moment.

  “How’re your feet?”

  I supposed he could tell they were aching.

  “They’ve been better.”

  “Should I put you on my back? I could carry you the rest of the way.”

  I grinned. “My own personal Sherpa.”

  He didn’t think that was as funny as I did.

  “No, it’s okay,” I continued. “It’s the only way I’ll learn.”

  I still felt a bit ill, not quite sick, but I thought the sun might have been getting to me a little. My stomach felt a bit queasy too, but I didn’t want to tell him that. It was his birthday and nothing was going to ruin it.

  Matteo and Paolo suggested the guys go on ahead, race up the hill against one another, and we encouraged them. Honestly, I needed a bit of a break from Taylor and Gianluca. The two of them doting on me like that was going to go straight to my head, and I’d soon start believing even more than I already did that I was god’s gift to mankind.

  “Finally,” Katerina said, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s let them go on ahead and we’ll go at our own pace.”

  Sofia agreed, muttering in choppy English mixed with Italian about how torturous the hike was.

  We laughed and continued on at a snail’s pace. With the boys gone, it was much nicer. We walked slow and took breaks in the shade when we felt like it.

  “Sooooo…” Katerina said, shaking my arm. “What do you think of Taylor?”

  “Hmmm? He’s nice.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, what do you think about him? He’s a nomad like you, G.”

  I opened my mouth, confused about what she was getting at, and then I realized I’d never filled Katerina in on Gianluca and I reaching an armistice. We’d rewound our relationship, but Katerina still assumed I was heartbroken over him.

  “On paper, he’s everything you’re looking for. Georgie, I saw that he was reading Oliver Twist! He had it in his backpack. It isn’t A Tale of Two Cities, but what are the odds? You named that exact author when you talked about the kind of man you wanted for a future husband.”

  Had I said that? Funny.

  “He’s cute too, and polite. Most importantly, I asked and he has no girlfriend, no wife, no skeletons in his closet.”

  “Right.”

  “That’s all you have to say?” She was shocked, maybe even a bit annoyed with my lack of enthusiasm. “You’ve been waiting for a man like Taylor since you arrived here and you’re not even going to give him a chance?”

  “Katerina, I’m not interested. Okay? He’s not for me. No chemistry. He chatted with me for a good ten minutes back there before I realized he was trying to lay on the charm.”

  “Give him a chance. He’s probably just nervous.”

  “Why don’t you date him if you’re so keen on him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You’re the one being ridiculous!”

  We walked on for a bit longer then, in brooding silence.

  Then, finally, she turned and grilled me.

  “What happened with Gianluca?”

  I hesitated before telling her the truth. Her words flashed through my mind—she’d warned me to keep away from Gianluca, to protect my heart against him. She’d said that out of every man in Vernazza, Gianluca was the last one I should I fancy. What would she say if she knew we were sleeping together again? That I was still so in love with him it blinded me to all logic and reason.

  I sighed before replying. “We talked and neither one of us wants to throw in the towel just yet—”

  “Oh good GOD!”

  “What?!”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head and tried to move past me. “C’mon, let’s just catch up with the others.”

  I reached for her arm to tug her back. “No! Say it!”

  “You’re fooling yourself, Georgie! You’re being so bloody stupid!”

  It felt as if she’d just slapped me cross the face. “No I’m not!”

  “You’re telling me you won’t even give a lovely guy a chance because you’re ‘not ready to throw in the towel’? HOW ROMANTIC!”

  “O
h, just sod off. That’s not how it is.”

  “Then tell me! How is it? You’re okay with just being Gianluca’s fuck buddy?!”

  I shoved away from her then, so hard she fell back against the brush beside the trail. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! How dare you judge my choices. You think I should walk away from the man I love because some other guy walks up and says hi?”

  “Oh bloody hell. You love him?! What about all the crap you wanted?! You had a list a mile long of all the things you cared about! You’re going to toss all that away?”

  “I don’t care about any of that stuff! I don’t care if Taylor reads every miserable book on the planet! I want Gianluca and I want him enough to deal with the baggage. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to continue on—it’s my fuck buddy’s birthday!”

  I HEARD KATERINA and Georgie shouting at one another—actually, we all heard them. The mountain, like most mountains, was deserted, and sound carried readily. We’d stopped to wait for them and then I listened carefully, bristling as Katerina tried to push Taylor on Georgie. My mates had the good sense to pretend they couldn’t hear it, but it was no use. Taylor wouldn’t meet my eyes, Massimo was watching me with pity, and Matteo and Paolo, the arseholes, were doing their best to contain their snickering. Apparently they enjoyed hearing the girls shouting about fuck buddies.

  I didn’t.

  I felt for Georgie in that moment. Having to defend her choice to be with me was hard to hear, especially when I hadn’t given her much to use in way of defense. I was angry with Katerina for assuming I wasn’t good enough for Georgie, for trying to convince her to give Taylor a chance. I was angry because she was right. I wasn’t good enough for Georgie, but more than anything, I wanted to be. I wanted to change. I wanted to be the man Georgie Archibald deserved to marry.

  To marry.

  I stared up at the sky and laughed a sort of crazy chuckle at how correct Allie had been.

  “By the time you’re thirty, you’ll be happy again and madly in love. I promise. I’ll work some kind of cosmic magic to make it happen, just you wait and see.”

  I guess you win, Allie.

  You win.

  “You want to go on, Luca?” Massimo asked, coming up to drop his hand on my shoulder. “We can give them a bit of privacy?”

  Just then, Georgie crested the top of the mountain. Her cheeks were red with rage and her fists were clamped by her sides. I knew her feet were killing her, but she rushed past like she was on a mission. I reached out to stop her, but she tugged her arm free and shook her head.

  “I’m continuing on the trail. I’ll see you at the finish line.”

  I’D BECOME THE type of woman I loathed: a spineless git. For months, I’d followed Gianluca around like a sad little puppy, hoping he’d eventually soften his heart and take me home. A part of me had known this all along, but I’d been living in blissful denial up until Katerina had dropped that truth bomb on me in front of everyone.

  Did everyone pity me?

  Did they all think I was delusional for pining after Gianluca?

  God, how embarrassing.

  I hadn’t realized I’d become a sideshow attraction, the latest in a long string of women who thought they could sway the cranky recluse. How many had come before me? How many had left Vernazza brokenhearted?

  I couldn’t face the group. I didn’t wait for them at the base of the trail; instead I headed straight for the train station and went back to Vernazza. I felt bad, not giving some sort of explanation for where I’d gone, but they’d probably guess I’d gone home.

  My emotional torture had momentarily overshadowed the pain from the blisters on my feet, but by the time I unlocked the door to the bed and breakfast, there was no denying it: my body ached as much as my heart.

  Mopsie was waiting for me on the other side of the door, offering up a furry toy mouse for me to take. I scooped him up and walked straight to the bathroom, drawing a nice, hot bath. I opened the window, the small one that faced the back alley; it let in the sounds of the sea without compromising my privacy. After a candle was lit and enough lavender-scented bubble bath poured into the warm water, I stripped and stepped in, setting Mopsie down on the tile. He had no desire to get in the water, but he was happy to lie on my warm clothes and resume his main mission in life: sleeping.

  I kept the water going until I was nearly submerged, everything in the water but my face. I stared up at the white plaster ceiling and tried to make sense of my situation. Now that I had a bit of distance from her, I didn’t think Katerina was wrong. Her delivery was a bit harsh, but she was being a good friend, trying to watch out for my heart. She wanted me to stay away from Gianluca because it was obvious that I was going to get hurt, and she didn’t want that.

  It was too late though. It was like being told to watch your step when you’ve already missed the stair. I should have listened to her earlier because now I was in the worst spot imaginable. I was stuck, so in love with Gianluca that I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe without him. I felt it eating away at me. I was so desperate to keep him that I didn’t pay attention to the warning signs: the sick feeling in my stomach, the tight tug of my heart when he walked out of a room, the twisted thoughts in the back of my mind. I’d completely lost myself in him. I no longer wanted a simple kind of love. I’d settle for nothing short of crazy in love, and the moment Gianluca realized how serious I was about him, how shattered I’d be by the end of us, he would walk away. He had to; he was too much of a good guy to lead me on.

  I was due for an explosion any day and the anticipation of it was worse than anything, the slow-rolling despair settling over me. I squeezed my eyes shut and slid farther into the water, wondering how long I could stay before I transformed into a prune.

  Argh. I didn’t want to be this in love. It felt like a sort of abuse, and the signs were there. I’d had a row on top of a mountain with my best friend in Vernazza. There were bags under my eyes that never disappeared. I’d lost the will to eat, to care about anything beyond keeping Gianluca. In recent days, I’d been shedding pounds as if I had a few to spare. My emotions were brittle and frayed. I hated who I’d become.

  Something had to give, and I was afraid it would be me.

  …

  I wasn’t in that bath long before I heard the muffled sound of Gianluca calling out to me in the front common room. I’d ruined his birthday, absolutely shat all over it, and he was there, pushing open the bathroom door with a soft knock.

  I sat up and turned to look at him over my shoulder, my skin prickling with goosebumps from the cool bathroom air.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head and stepped forward, tearing his shirt off overhead. His shorts and boxer-briefs followed, and then he was stepping into the large bath behind me, nearing overflowing the water. We drained a bit, added more hot water, and then I settled against his chest. The nearness killed me: his skin against mine, his lips pressed against my shoulder, his words in my ear, promising me I hadn’t ruined his birthday, that I could never ruin his birthday.

  He wiped a tear from my cheek.

  “Please don’t cry. Please.”

  His kindness tore at me.

  I had to tell him the truth.

  “I don’t think I can do it, Gianluca. What I said the other night, about keeping things casual…”

  “No. No. You and I, we’re more than that, right? I promise. Please don’t listen to Katerina.”

  I wanted to believe him. I really wanted to sink into his words and let them swirl around me like the warm bath water, to let them blanket me from the outside world.

  And then it sort of clicked: this was how it continued. I would get upset, he would keep stringing me along with little promises of more. A year from now, I would look back on all the tender moments when I’d cowed to him, and I’d wonder how I’d let myself fall into such a one-sided love affair.

  He gripped my biceps and twisted me to him so I was straddling him in the bathtub.
We touched everywhere, so intimately fused that the nature of our discussion broke my heart.

  “Don’t you remember what I told you? You’re my northern wind, my tramontana.”

  His words weren’t enough; when your heart is set on love, anything less seems paltry.

  I didn’t want to talk anymore. A part of me realized this would be the last time we touched like this, the last time our two bodies moved like one. I leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet at first. He responded right away, tilting my head back and softly gliding his tongue past my lips. My chest pressed against his and my breasts glided across his wet skin. It was all so deeply erotic—our minds were slaves to caution, but our bodies were free. His touch turned me on like never before.

  He tilted me back, peeling my chest off his so he could bend down and take my right breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around my sensitive nipple, working it to a peak before switching to the other. His hand moved to the velvet skin under the curve of my breast, bringing the warm bathwater up across my chest, heating my flushed skin.

  I tried to lean forward and touch him, but he had such a gentle, commanding grip on me. With his hand on my waist, I couldn’t move over his hard length. The best I could do was string my fingers in his hair, gently moaning when he continued to seduce me.

  I knew his body more than I knew my own, but this time was different. I tried to memorialize every fleeting moment. When he picked me up and positioned himself at my center, I squeezed my eyes and focused on every delicious inch sliding into me. He gripped my neck and his touch sent a ripple of sensation down my spine, numbing my toes.

  “Open your eyes,” he told me when I’d pinched them closed.

  It was hard to take it all in. With mine open, I was compelled to stare into his dark eyes, to witness our exchange. I didn’t want to see the incredible potential for love there.

  Is that adoration in his eyes?