by R.S. Grey
I groaned. “I don’t want everyone knowing what’s going on though. I swear Katerina’s already told half the village I’m trying to find a lover.”
He grinned at my use of the word lover, but then quickly tried to hide it. “No, no. It’ll just be a natural day at the beach with a few of our friends. If you happen to meet someone to smash, that’s great.”
“Thank you for the delicate phrasing, Gianluca.”
“That’s what you need isn’t it? A proper lay?”
“I’ll have you know that I have no problem in the bedding department. Males are practically clawing at each other to get to me.”
“Those are just the boat cats trying to nick a bit more croissant from you.”
“Could we please end this conversation?”
He leaned over the counter so I was forced to meet his eyes. “It’ll be fun, and if you don’t meet any decent men, you can just hang out at the beach with me.”
My stomach dipped.
“What a miserable afternoon that would be.”
He grinned. I reluctantly agreed and we got to work planning it all out right then. We decided it would be best to cut off work early that Friday and go as soon as Katerina could close up shop.
He relayed the information to Massimo and I told Katerina. Everyone was excited about it, but the sad thing was, the closer it got to Friday, the more I hoped he and Massimo wouldn’t find any decent men to invite. Why? Because if there weren’t any good guys at the beach, that would mean I could stick close to Gianluca.
The moment I had that thought was the exact moment I became the most pathetic sap in the whole of Italy.
How do you say loser in Italian? Georgie bloody Archibald.
MY CRUSH ON Gianluca reminded me of the sort I used to have in grade school. It was a quiet, volatile sort of infatuation, the kind rooted mostly in fantasy and lifelike dreams. I’d wake up in my hotel room in a cold sweat and press my hand to the back of my mouth or adjust my twisted pajama bottoms and admonish myself. It was 2:14 AM. 3:37 AM. 1:03 AM. Gianluca wasn’t in love with me, just like he hadn’t been in love with me the night before. Sure, in my dream he’d just stripped me down to nothing and bent me like a pretzel, but in real life, he still hated me. Also, in real life, I was nowhere near flexible enough for that.
I knew my crush could have been chalked up to lust or it could have meant a whole lot more, but so much of it took place in my head that I couldn’t be sure what was real and what was fiction. To me, Gianluca was the sun. My days revolved around him, but when I took a step back, it felt so silly, like I was lusting after one of my brother’s older friends. That had happened a few times growing up, and it had always ended the same. They’d laugh and nudge my shoulder or, god forbid, pat my head and tell me they thought I was a sweet girl, that one day, when I grew up, I’d find someone better suited for me.
I dreaded the moment Gianluca would pat my head with a sad little smile. “How could you have been so silly as to have fallen in love with me? I told you I was unavailable. I told you I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and even if I was ready, I wouldn’t fall in love with you, Georgie. Come on, of course it couldn’t be you.”
My brain could be quite cruel about it, so I tried not to mull over my silly crush too often. Besides, it was just that: a crush. Easy to tuck away and think about when I was back in my hotel room, reading by my window and staring up at his villa shining in the moonlight. I meant what I’d told him about it being the best piece of property in Vernazza. It sat up on top of the hill overlooking the square, close enough that I could see its tan paint and dark green shutters but far enough away that he could have a bit of peace and quiet. It was best for the tourists to keep him up there, as well—less chance of his grumpy energy spoiling their suppers.
There was only ever one light on at night: a hazy yellow glow from the top right window—his bedroom, I assumed.
I never talked about my feelings for Gianluca with Katerina, not after that night she’d informed me that every girl with a pulse had fancied him at one point or another. Even still, she was suspicious of me, especially when I informed her that Gianluca and I were planning the beach trip.
“You and Gianluca?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
“You guys have been spending a ton of time together, more than me and Massimo even.”
“Which is why we want to go to the beach. We’ll probably kill each other if we stay cooped up in that bed and breakfast for much longer.”
“And you don’t think it’s weird that the first friend Luca has made in years happens to be a beautiful girl?”
I looked away. “No more weird than you and me becoming friends.”
She barked out a laugh like I was being utterly ridiculous. “Let’s just say I don’t look like Gianluca when I take my shirt off.”
I ignored her, but she continued.
“Will you be inviting boys?”
“He said he would invite some mates for me to get to know.”
“And will he be inviting other girls? For himself?”
I bristled at the thought.
He never talked of bringing girls home, though I knew he wasn’t the type to brag about that sort of thing. Still, that night I kept a ridiculously vigilant watch on his property, just in case. It wasn’t until we met the group at the train station on Friday afternoon that Katerina’s terrible prediction came true: I had my first glimpse of Gianluca with other girls. And it was all my fault.
Katerina and I walked up the stairs to the train station to meet the group and I was taken aback when I saw the rest of the group standing there on the landing. There was Massimo and Paolo standing with a guy they introduced as Matteo. He was one of Massimo’s friends from La Spezia and he’d taken the train into the village to spend the day with us. I offered up a hello and tried to give him a bit of attention, but I was focused on the other half of the group, the side that included Gianluca and other girls.
I’d invited Chiara early on, anxious to spend some time with her outside the hotel’s front lobby. Now, I wasn’t sure it had been the best idea, especially since she’d taken the liberty of inviting a friend: a tall, lean Italian girl with enough confidence to outshine everyone within a hundred-mile radius.
She had amazing black hair, curled and full of body as she tossed her head back and laughed at something Gianluca said. The bloke was a lot of things, but he wasn’t really a laugh. She was overdoing it.
Chiara turned to wave at me and it caught Gianluca’s attention.
He turned over his shoulder, caught sight of me, and grinned. My heart did this little sputter thing and I thought for a second it’d stopped altogether.
“I was worried you were going to bail on us,” he said, breaking off from the girls to come say hello. I’d been with him just that morning, but then I’d gone around to Katerina’s shop so I could help her pick out a bikini.
I tilted my head toward Katerina. “Blame her. There was this lady in the shop who was lingering for ages as we tried to close up.”
“She didn’t even buy anything in the end! God, I hate customers like that.”
Massimo tossed an arm around her and tugged her into his side. “Just call me next time. I’ll buy any dress in the place if it means you can close up and come to the beach.”
“Okay, but you have to wear it,” she laughed.
Chiara and her friend came over to join the group and they introduced themselves to everyone. Her friend was called Adrianna and when she turned to smile at me, I realized I’d been giving her too much credit. She was pretty, of course she was, but the things I found exotic and exciting about her were the same things that made me exotic and exciting to Italian men. Everyone had something to offer and when I reached out to shake her hand, I did so with a genuine smile on my face. The day I got intimidated by another woman would be the day I was no longer Georgie Archibald.
She fired off something in Italian that I didn’t understand. Gianluca
leaned over to tell me she was joking about the train taking forever. I smiled up at him and then the crackly speakers announced a warning to stand back from the tracks.
“Everyone got their beach supplies?” I asked, adjusting the thin sarong over my shoulder.
Gianluca tapped my bulging straw bag. “It looks like you’ve got enough for an army,” he teased.
“I like to be prepared.”
“Is there extra sun cream in there for me?”
“I told you I didn’t have much! You can’t steal it all.”
He grinned. “I’ll bring you more tomorrow.”
Katerina cut in after clearing her throat. “You two working on the weekends now?”
“Georgie insists on it.”
Adrianna smirked. “I can think of something much better to do on Saturday mornings.”
Gianluca leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “She’s talking about sex…”
I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, I got that, you fool.”
He grinned wider and by then the queue for the train had gone down enough that we could hop on. I slid into a seat beside Katerina.
“Have you been keeping something from me?”
I leaned down in my bag for my sunglasses. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just the way you two are acting. The flirting, it almost seems like…”
“We’re friends?” I cut her off with a laugh. “I promise it’s nothing. I mean, he was the one to suggest this trip so I could meet a few of Massimo’s mates.”
“So then why aren’t you talking to Paolo and Matteo?”
“I will! We’ve only just gotten on the train. Once we get to the beach, I’ll make a real effort to get to know them.”
Her narrowed gaze told me she didn’t believe what I was saying, but I shrugged off her concern and turned toward the window. The sea whipped past as we cut in and out of the cliffs. Waves crashed against the rocky shore, promising relief from the stuffy train car.
A part of me knew Katerina was right. I needed to give Paolo and Matteo a chance. I hadn’t even really paid attention to Matteo when he’d first introduced himself on the platform. I decided to rectify that, and as we each finished renting our chairs and umbrellas on Monterosso’s beach, I made sure to place my things right beside Matteo’s. He smiled over at me before he reached up to tug off his shirt. He had an intricate, colorful tattoo that wrapped around his right shoulder. His light brown hair fell over his forehead and his accent was thick and charming as he asked if I’d been to Monterosso before.
“A ton. I come over to swim a few times a week.”
“It shows,” he said, dragging his gaze down my body. I still had my sarong covering my bikini, but I might as well have been naked from the way he took me in. It was a bit much, but at least it was good to know all my swimming hadn’t been in vain.
“G, we’re doing a run for drinks. You coming?”
Gianluca, Katerina, and Massimo were standing near the sidewalk, waiting for me to join them. The old seaside village of Monterosso stretched out behind them, flat and just as colorful as Vernazza.
“Uh…no.” Matteo grinned wider as I continued, “You guys go on ahead.”
I didn’t wait to see Gianluca’s reaction, instead turning back to the shore and smiling when Chiara dropped her things in the vacant chair beside mine. Paolo and Adrianna plopped down on the other side of her and we had a good group going, chatting and laughing as we lathered on sun cream beneath our umbrellas.
“You hardly even need it,” Adrianna said, twisting in the sand and tipping her head toward the sun.
“I assure you, my pale English arse needs to be dipped in it.”
Chiara laughed. “You’re so tan now. Sunkissed. Not like when you first got here.”
Exactly, and it would all go away if I burned myself to crisp. “Do my back, will you?”
Matteo nearly cut in then. I could see him out of the periphery of my eye, salivating at the idea of lathering me up.
Chiara grinned suggestively. “I think he can do it for you.”
Oh bloody thanks, Chiara.
Matteo didn’t even wait for my approval. He stepped forward and yanked the tube out of my hand, squeezing a bit of cream on his hand and dipping down beneath my umbrella. I nearly jumped out of skin when his hand hit my lower back, mostly because the cream was freezing cold against my skin.
He laughed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. Get on with it then,” I teased.
In truth, it’d been ages since I’d had a man touch my bare skin. I forgot how nice it felt. I let my head fall forward as he brushed it up between my shoulder blades and was really getting into it when a giant ice chest slammed down into the sand an inch in front of my feet.
“Hey!”
I whipped my head up and glared at Gianluca, who was standing on the other side of the cooler with his hands propped on his hips. His head was tilted to the side and he had this funny little expression on his face.
“You almost done?” he asked. “I’m ready to swim.”
“We’ve got enough wine and beer for days!” Katerina sang, twirling through the group with a bottle of wine in each of her hands. She looked like a goddess in her white cover-up. “Here, everyone drink up before we head into the ocean.”
Oh god, I’d skipped lunch because we’d had such a late breakfast, and I knew dipping into wine this early in the day was a recipe for disaster, but then Katerina popped the cork and handed me a plastic cup nearly filled to the brim. The white wine smelled delicious and it was still chilled from the refrigerator in the shop. I took a tentative sip and nearly moaned with how good it tasted, so crisp and light.
Katerina clinked her plastic cup with mine. “Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
I tipped back the rest of my cup, too anxious to get in the water to bother with ladylike sips. I’d hardly finished when Gianluca peeled off his t-shirt and dropped it on my lap.
I stared down at it. “What? Haven’t you got a chair of your own to clutter up?”
“Why bother? We can share. Now come on and show me if all your swimming has paid off.”
At some point Matteo had finished putting sun cream on my back, but I hadn’t noticed. Gianluca had arrived and everyone else had sort of faded into the background. He turned and headed for the ocean and my gaze followed after him on its own accord. I’d caught glimpses of his abs when he’d wipe his brow during work, but this was different. This was Gianluca shirtless in black swim trunks. This was Gianluca with his tall frame and strong, muscular back. This was Gianluca turning to look over his shoulder and waving at me to join him in the water with a perfect dimpled smile. Bloody hell. He was so gorgeous I wanted to scream, and I wasn’t the only one. Chiara and Adrianna were watching him with stars in their eyes as well, and then they turned to one another and then to me and we all sort of let out this exasperated laugh. At least I wasn’t alone in my longing. As long as Gianluca had his shirt off, we would all suffer.
THAT DAY ON the beach was a dream, a day that comes around once or twice in a lifetime. The group got along so well. Once it was clear that I wasn’t really interested in Paolo or Matteo, they turned their sights on Chiara and Adrianna, and I was free to just hang out and enjoy the day.
We started in the water, swimming until our feet couldn’t touch and then going a bit farther. I didn’t get out until my fingers were pruned and my arms were sore. I headed back to shore and tugged my chair out from the beneath the umbrella so I could tip my head back, close my eyes, and enjoy the sunshine on my skin. It was so warm and lovely. I dug my toes into the sand and kept my eyes closed as long as I could, trying to soak the rays into my soul.
“Here, you little beach goddess.”
Katerina held out another cup of wine for me and I didn’t even pretend to resist this time. She pulled her chair out beside mine and we sat there, watching the boys in the water and enjoying the view in silence until we’d sipped the last few drops of wine.
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“It’s brilliant, isn’t it? Life here?”
I nodded, staring out into the distance. Monterosso beach felt like a secluded gem. On one side, clear blue water extended to the horizon with Vernazza shining in the distance, and on the other side, high rocks plunged into the sea, seemingly separating Monterosso from the rest of the world. “It’s not even fair.”
She hummed. “Shame you didn’t get on with Matteo. I really thought you’d appreciate his tattoos.”
I grinned. “I did. Who doesn’t love a man with tattoos?”
“Gianluca doesn’t have any.”
“How would you know? He might be hiding a little heart, inked right on his bum.”
She laughed and I stood, reaching for her cup so I could refill them again. I’d assumed they’d gone overboard with the drinks, but we made clean work of the cooler, sipping on wine and beer like it was water. The boys went out for another drink run, and I turned over in my chair, laying out on my stomach as exhaustion settled into my bones.
I’d nearly nodded off by the time the boys returned, proud of themselves for gathering up supplies for a beach picnic. We pushed all the chairs together underneath the umbrellas and tucked into caprese salad, pizza slices, and even more wine. It was all magic: our day at the beach with the sun and the wine and the pizza so full of flavor it ruined all other pizza for me from that day on.
I stood and stretched, prepared to slip back into the water to work off my lunch, but then Paolo brought out a soccer ball from his bag and we started to kick it around on the sand, trying our best to create a little game of four on four. My sister-in-law was ace at soccer, and had played professionally most of her adult life. She’d taught me a few things, enough that I could just barely keep up with Massimo and Gianluca.
“Brilliant, Georgie!” Gianluca complimented when I managed to slip a ball past Paolo into our makeshift goals.
I accepted his high-five and smiled, proud of myself.
“You only managed that goal because you’re wearing a bikini!” Paolo moaned. “It’s not fair really. All the men are distracted.”
