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Enrique’s comment sticks with me after he leaves. Even more so the implication. That if I was honest with him about my experience from the start that he wouldn’t have judged me for it.

Lying on the bed, I ponder that I could have kept kissing him without doing anything beyond that.

But even that would have felt wrong.

When Enrique’s lips were on mine, I finally realized that Luca’s rejection isn’t what I was really afraid of.

It was that admitting how I felt for Luca would mean to finally face my fears.

The fear of doing all the things that I could have never imagined doing with anyone else that Iwantto do with him.

Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, I owe it tomyselfto take the chance and tell him howIfeel.

I came all the way here. There’s no point in backing down now.

CHAPTER 18

“Long Story Short” – Taylor Swift

WHEN LUCA DOESN’T ANSWER HIS door, I start wondering if he already checked out of the resort. Since I never knew when he’d be leaving.

I tell myself to think like Georgia. Aka: logically. And once I’m able to, I think of one place that he could be.

I don’t know why, but the hiking spot we went was the first place that popped into my head. After all, he’s been running recently, and this seems like a good place to run.

When I get there, I find him on the same trail we walked together. He’s facing away from me, looking out at the view of the ocean that’s sparkling. His chest is visibly rising and falling from exertion. Did I mention he’s shirtless? Covered in so much sweat that it looks like he just took a shower. And the way the muscles in his back are flexing— Wait. He’s turning around.Shit.

I quickly run out of view and back toward the resort.

Well that went great…

Now covered in plenty of my own sweat once I’m back in my suite bed, I stare at the ceiling and exhale, before closing my eyes in frustration.

Why couldn’t I say anything?I had no problem talking to Luca before. Why the sudden shift?

Oh right. It’s because now he’s become acrushin my mind.

Which means I’ll be behaving irrationally the way I always do, unless I decide tostop.

All I’m remembering now is every time I’d psych myself out of going up to my crush throughout my entire life. During a football game. After a lecture. At the few parties I went to.

Not wanting this to turn out how those situations did, I immediately sit back up, more confidently this time, and don’t even bother to freshen up.

While I’m getting up, I hear a knock on my door.

As soon as I open it, I regret at least not fixing my hair that once again looks like a tornado. Especially since it looks like Luca is fresh out of the shower. At least he smells good enough for the both of us.

He smiles timidly. “Hi.”

This reminds me of our conversation from the day after the wedding. Except even more vulnerable. I also can’t think of anything else to say, so I’m glad he’s giving mesomeinspiration. “Hi,” I say back, while we continue to stand by the doorway. “I heard that you spoke to Enrique,” I add once some coherent words reenter my brain.

“Yeah, about that,” he says, holding eye contact the way only he knows how.

Instead of letting him speak, my curiosity takes over. “So he knows he was my first kiss,” I declare with a nervous chuckle.

Luca’s brows quickly crease. “What? I didn’t tell him that.”

“You didn’t?” I feel taken aback, but maybe I shouldn’t be.

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