Page 56 of The Road to You
“Becausenowit’s real. There’s a literal house at the end of this dusty road, and people in it who raisedyou.It feels like walking into a test I didn’t study for.”
He glances at me, really looks, then makes a split-second decision. He pulls the car off to the side of the road, tires crunching over dry gravel, and shifts into park. I squeak in surprise.
“Lena.”
I blink at him. “Are we…breaking up, or whatever you do in oursituationship, in an olive grove?”
He smiles and reaches across the center console to take my hand. His grip is warm and steady. “You don’t need to be nervous.”
“Oh, no? Let me list all the reasons why Ido.” I tick them off on my fingers. “One: I’m not Italian.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You speak it better than half my cousins.”
“Two: I’m not your girlfriend.”
“That’s a relief. Less pressure.”
“Three: I’ve seen you naked and making very unholy sounds in a holy cave-town.”
That makes him laugh, full-bodied and so loud it bounces around the car like music.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he says, still grinning. “But let me counter.”
I narrow my eyes. “This should be good.”
“One: My mom already loves you because she heard the joy in my voice when I talked to her.”
I open my mouth, then close it. How do you counter a sentence that makes your heart do a backflip in your chest?
“Two: You make me laugh even when you’re stripping me of my last shred of sanity.”
“Romantic,” I mutter.
“Three: My parents don’t want perfection. They wantmeto be happy. And I am.” He squeezes my hand. “Because of you.”
I stare at him.
It’s ridiculous how much those words melt me. How they slip under my skin and curl around my heart like they’ve always belonged there. We’ve never said out loud what we are, whether friends or something more, but it’s clear that our feelings for each other run deeper than mere acquaintances. I don’t sleep with someone just for fun; I was never the one-night-stand kind of woman, and this trip shows it.
We’ve driven for weeks down the entire length of Italy, being together twenty-four-seven, sharing exhausting hours in the car, and laughing our heads off at the stupidest things. We became friends, and then we took it a step forward. We have had all the time in the world to make that decision, and it’s not just about sex. IknowI feel something deeper, and at this point, I know Michele enough to be sure he feels it too.
“You really think it’s gonna go that smoothly?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.
“I think my mom’s gonna try to feed you until you explode, my dad’s gonna pretend he doesn’t cry but absolutely will when he sees me, and my sister is gonna corner you and ask if I still snore when I sleep. I don’t know about my brothers because they’re idiots, and just say whatever crosses their mind in the moment.”
“Do you snore? I haven’t had the chance tosleepa lot when you’re around.” I raise my eyebrow.
“No comment.”
I laugh in spite of myself. He leans across the seat, tugs me toward him, and kisses me senseless. His mouth moves over mine with purpose, reassurance, and something deeper I don’t want to name yet, but feel all the same.
When we part, I’m breathless, and no longer nervous.
“Let’s go, then,” I murmur.
He smiles like the sun. “Bene.”
He shifts the car back into gear, and we roll forward, deeper into the grove. The house appears in the distance, white stone and flat roof nestled among the trees like a postcard. A breeze lifts dry leaves as we approach.
