Page 43 of The Road to You
I grin. “The bow, the stern…”
She waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, all that. The point is, I’d be terrible at it.”
“But you’d be terrible in Positano, which is better than being miserable in Los Angeles.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Tempting.” She sips her wine with a thoughtful gaze. “But that’s not real life.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” I don’t know why I’m pushing this idea, perhaps because I don’t want to feel alone in wanting this summer to last forever.
She looks at me then, really looks at me, like she’s trying to figure out if I mean it. And the truth is, I don’t know. I just know that being here with her is the first time in a long time that I haven’t felt like I’m waiting for something to go wrong.
The boat rocks gently, and the waves lap against the hull. The scent of salt, citrus, and sun-warmed skin fills the air between us.
Lena exhales, leaning her head back against the seat. “It’s nice to pretend, though. That this could last forever.”
I stare at her, at the way the sunlight catches in her hair, turning it gold at the edges. I want to tell her that maybe it doesn’t have to be pretend. That maybe what we have, whatever it is, doesn’t have to end when summer does.
But I don’t. Because that would be stupid.
Instead, I pick up a piece of watermelon and hold it out to her. “Here. Before you start getting alltooexistential on me.”
She grins, biting into it, juice dripping onto her chin. I reach out instinctively, swiping it away with my thumb before I can stop myself. She freezes. I should move my hand. I should pull away, but I don’t.
Her breath hitches, her lips part slightly. Something thick and electric settles between us.
And just as quickly, she clears her throat, laughing lightly. “Well. That was veryTitanicof you.”
I smirk, leaning back. “Would you like me to sketch you next?”
She snorts, tossing a grape at me. “Behave, Moretti.”
I catch the grape easily, popping it into my mouth. “No promises.”
She laughs, shaking her head, shifting the moment back to something easy, something light. But the weight in my chest remains because summerwillend. And when it does, I don’t know if I’ll be ready for that.
16
LENA
The sun is a thick golden blanket over Positano, warm and heavy against my skin. I lie back on the rented sunbed. The woven fabric is hot beneath my bare legs, and I close my eyes for a second. The sounds around us are the symphony of summer with the waves lapping against the pebbled shore, kids laughing somewhere behind us, and the faint buzz of a scooter echoing from the cliffside roads above. It’s all softened by the sound of Italian voices, smooth and lyrical like a lullaby. I realize that I really love the sound of this language, even if I can’t understand a single word. And it’s sexy as hell rolling out of Michele’s lips.
I tilt my head toward him. He’s beside me on the next lounger, one hand behind his head, the other holding a spoon as he lazily scoops out a bite of the colddelizia al limonewe’re sharing. The small glass bowl rests on a plate between us, the creamy dome of sponge cake and lemon cream already halfway devoured. It’s cold and tart, with just enough sweetness to make my toes curl in happiness.
“Okay, you were right,” I say, scooping a bite for myself. “This is better than any overpriced vegan gelato in LA.”
Michele smiles without opening his eyes. “That’s because it has actual flavor. And dairy. And joy.”
I poke his bare shoulder with my spoon. “Hey! Vegan food can be joyful.”
He cracks one eye open. “Can it, though? The cauliflower pizza you described is the epitome of joyful, I believe you.” His words drip with amusement.
I stifle a laugh and stretch, my limbs buzzing with residual energy from yesterday’s boat trip. The water, the laughter, the near-kiss that still tingles on my lips when I think about it. It’s all simmering beneath my skin like a dream I don’t want to let go of.
Still, I can’t just lie here all day. I’ve had a morning nap, a dip in the sea, and two desserts. My body is starting to itch for movement, for streets to explore, corners to turn, photos to snap, and treasures to discover.
I push my sunglasses up onto my head and glance over at him. “So…what do you say we go explore a bit? Just a walk up to the shops? I saw this boutique yesterday with the cutest linen dresses, and I bet there’s more…”
Michele doesn’t move. “Lena…”
