by Marie Meyer
A scooter darted around him. Lucas waved to me, ignoring the motorist who nearly hit him. “Ciao, Sophia.”
“Ciao,” I replied, grasping the handle. I gave the door a shove.
“Oh, Sophia,” Lucas shouted, right before I went inside.
I froze. A second chance. I should invite him upstairs. “Yeah?” I breathed.
“I didn’t get your number.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
I backed away from the door, joining him on the sidewalk again. “Let me have your phone.” I held out my hand. Laying his phone on my palm, I scooped it up and opened his contact list. Quickly typing my number, I added “Linebacker” to his favorites, handing it back to him with a smirk. “Now you do.” And I still hadn’t invited him upstairs. What’s wrong with me?
“Grazie.” He dipped his chin. “See you in the morning, then.”
“I’ll be here.” I smiled, kicking myself for not having the courage to ask him to stay. Old Sophia was still holding on, but tomorrow was a new day, a chance to silence her for a while. A chance to forget about things I couldn’t control.
Once I made it back to my room, I knew sleeping was out of the question. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and electricity buzzed through my veins. I kicked my shoes off at the end of the bed and dropped my bag on the floor. Falling onto my back, I sank into the mattress with a sigh. “Holy shit. Did today really happen?” I shook my head in disbelief.
At the foot of the bed, a muffled chime sounded. My phone. Sitting up, I drew in a deep breath and blew it out again, ruffling the wisps of hair around my face. I inched toward the end of the bed and reached for my bag, pulling out my phone.
Across the screen was a text message from Lucas: I told you so.
Hmm, what was that supposed to mean? I typed my response: What?
Staring at the screen, I awaited his reply.
I knew I’d get your number before the end of the day, he texted back.
I read the text, hearing his deep, cocky voice in my head while a wide smile pulled at the corners of my lips. My thumbs flew over the keyboard. Yeah, I planned on giving it to you. I just liked seeing you work for it!
It was the most pleasurable day’s work I’ve had in a long time, even though it started out with me on my ass.
Exhilaration sent the butterflies in my stomach into a tizzy. Glad I could help with that.
Night, Linebacker. See you soon.
Good night, Lucas.
And to think I almost threw this trip in the waste can. Italy had just become my favorite place to be.
Chapter Twelve
Outside, the incessant blare of a car horn sounded. I rolled over in bed, blinking away sleepiness, grabbing my phone off the bedside table. Keeping one eye closed, I focused on the brightly lit screen: 5:30 a.m. Lucas would be here in two hours. I threw off the stiff blankets and stared at the decorative makeshift canopy over my head. It was very European and very seventies. I wondered where Lucas was staying. He’d never said. Then a jolt of panic rippled through me. What if yesterday was it? What if he’d changed his mind…or worse yet, never planned to meet with me today at all? What if everything had been a farce, a cruel joke to play on the naïve American girl traveling alone?
I sat up straight. A thin layer of sweat made my pajamas stick to my skin. “Calm down, Sophia. He’ll be here.” I hoped that by saying it out loud, I’d convince myself it was the truth. But why would he come? I had no hold over him. Heck, I didn’t even know him. I checked to see if he’d texted. Nothing.
Get your ass out of bed, Sophia, Sophia Italia’s voice commanded. He’ll be here soon and you don’t want to look like…this. I looked down at my sensible pj’s: a gray Wash U School of Medicine short-sleeve T-shirt and black capri-length yoga pants. Sophia Italia did not approve of my sleeping attire.
It goes well with your stark white cotton panties, too, she chided.
It was probably a good idea to do some shopping while I was in one of the leading fashion meccas on earth.
I sucked in a deep breath, lowered my legs to the dark hardwood floor, and went to the bathroom to shower and get cleaned up.
I took extra time on my hair, twisting the sides into a French braid that circled my head and leaving the back to air-dry into dark waves. I usually wore a little makeup—mascara and lip gloss—but today I broke out the eye shadow, blush, and powder, trying to cover up the new crop of freckles across the bridge of my nose. Spending yesterday in the sun had brought them out in force.
I folded the end of the braid neatly underneath the plastic ponytail holder and secured it with a couple of bobby pins, creating a seamless braid. I admired my handiwork in the mirror and smiled just as my phone went off with a high-pitched trill: Mom’s ringtone.
I snatched it off the counter and pressed ACCEPT. “Hey, Mom.”
“Sophia!” she shouted. “How is Italy? I haven’t heard from you since you got there.”
I smoothed down a few flyaway strands of hair. “It’s nice, Mom.”
“Are you having fun? What have you done?”
Her enthusiasm was contagious. “Yeah, I’m having a good time. Naples is busy. A bit fast paced for my liking and actually pretty dirty. Definitely loud. But it’s fun.” I gathered up my belongings and threw them in my travel bag. “I went to Pompeii yesterday.” The memory brought a smile to my face, but it wasn’t the ruins I was remembering.
“Oh, Soph, that’s awesome! I’m so glad you’re having a good time,” she cooed. “The last time I was in Naples, I was in college. It was loud and dirty,” she chuckled. “But even that can’t detract from its beauty. I love Naples. How long are you there?”
I set my bathroom products on the floor beside my suitcase. “Until Saturday, then I leave for Sorrento.”
“Do not leave Sorrento without having a limoncello or two,” she commanded.
I laughed. “Are you encouraging me to drink?”
“It’s Nonna’s favorite.” Her voice rose in pitch as she sang the last word. “Have one for her, too.”
“Mom, I’m traveling alone. The last thing I should be doing is getting drunk.” I recalled the last time I’d gotten drunk and how Penley had died the next day.
“Always Miss Responsible,” she clucked.
Yeah right, Mom.
What was with her? Why did she want me to throw all caution to the wind? Granted, she had no idea how much Penley and I partied in high school, but that was a long time ago. I was different now. I was Miss Responsible. “Mom, you should be the one telling me to be careful, not supporting a drinking habit.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you, Soph. You’ll have your head in the tourist pamphlets and forget to experience Italy for real. I figure if I give you permission to be wild and crazy, you may opt for slightly less reserved.”
I wasn’t reserved yesterday, Mom. I picked up a stranger and spent the entire day with him and almost invited him back to my room. I laughed inwardly, proud of my newfound confidence…I only wished that confidence was strong enough to give a voice to my thoughts.
I pinched the phone between my shoulder and ear while I rummaged through my suitcase. Unfolding a white and tan striped sundress, I shook it out a few times to loosen the wrinkles. “Okay. I’ll get my head out of the pamphlets. Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go. I’m joining a tour at the Naples National Archaeological Museum at seven thirty, and I’ve got to get dressed.” It was only a small lie. But if she knew about Lucas, she’d have us married off within the week. Mom lived to play matchmaker.
“Have a good time. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you, Patatina.”
“Yeah, love you, too, Mom. Bye,” I said absently. “Get some sleep. It’s late,” I scolded.
She groaned. “I’m the parent, remember? Stop bossing me around.” Even though she was joking, I could still hear the bite of irritation in her voice. “Bye, Soph.”
“Bye, Mom.”
And then there was silence on the line. She was gone. But I conti
nued to clutch the phone in my hand, still pressing it to my ear. Thinking about marriage, the word had gotten under my skin. In light of my dad’s health revelation and the fact that I could be headed down the same path, was marriage even a possibility? Could I do that to another person? Bring them into a relationship knowing they would have to watch me die? And children? That was definitely out of the question. There was no way in hell I’d want to pass Huntington’s on to a child.
I plopped down on the bed, defeated. The promise of a fun day with Lucas was thrown back into perspective. What the hell was I doing? I had no business liking him. Suddenly I hoped he wouldn’t show up and that yesterday, and the all-consuming energy I’d felt between us, had been a figment of my repressed and neglected hormones.
I glanced at the time on my phone. I was supposed to be downstairs to meet Lucas in five minutes. Was he here yet?
Standing, I made my way to the window and peeked through a small opening in the curtains. Sure enough, there he was, sitting on one of the large weed-filled planters that divided the street into two lanes. Dressed casually in pastel-colored, mint-green shorts and a lightweight button-down cotton shirt, he looked like he’d walked off the pages of GQ. My pulse spiked. What was he doing to me? Sexy didn’t even begin to define what Lucas had going on.
With a phone pressed to his ear, I watched his expression fall. Whomever he was talking to, they weren’t giving him good news. He didn’t look happy.
After a couple minutes, Lucas lowered the phone, punched a button on the screen, and stared at it. Then a second later, he lifted his head in my direction, toward the hotel. I was securely hidden behind the closed curtains, but I swore his eyes, like blue laser beams, landed right on me.
I took a step back and sighed, heart thumping in my chest, having almost been caught spying.
I walked to the bed, grabbed my purse, and slung it over my shoulder before walking over to the small safe in my room. I made sure my belongings inside were securely locked away, gave the room a once-over, and walked out the door. I double-checked that my room was locked and went to the elevator.
As I waited for the door to open, my heart raced as I thought about those blue eyes. I still questioned why I was doing this, why I was willingly spending time with a gorgeous man knowing full well there was no future with him.
He’s a fun distraction, Sophia, the voice in my head reminded me. A distraction. I was on vacation. Maybe this was my chance to be on “vacation” from Old Sophia and all her idiosyncrasies as well.
Now you’re thinking! Sophia Italia cheered.
The elevator door opened with a chime and I stepped inside. I had two more days in Naples; might as well make the best of it, right? I tapped the button for the ground floor and the doors slid closed. As I descended, I made a pact with myself. I’d have a good time, enjoy Lucas’s company, and like he’d said yesterday, live without any expectations…expectations only lead to disappointment.
And damn, was he right.
* * *
Stepping out of the hotel, I was greeted by the sounds of honking car horns, revving engines, and the warm kiss of sunshine on my skin. Naples was awake. The city’s heartbeat was loud and pulsated with life. Despite the graffiti and trash that cluttered the sidewalks, Naples was breathtaking.
I filled my lungs with a good dose of Neapolitan air. Infused with the mustiness of ancient buildings and car exhaust, I was ready to hit the town.
“Buongiorno.” Lucas waved as he stood from the concrete planter. With three steps in my direction, we stood toe-to-toe. “You look lovely.” His eyes traveled over my body. He didn’t hide the fact that he was checking me out.
I smiled, a rush of excitement sweeping through me. “Grazie. I’m sure you say that to all the ladies, though.”
He winked. “Only when it’s true.”
Well, I hadn’t been expecting that kind of answer. Did he make it a habit of picking up random woman on vacation?
“Ready?” he asked, holding out his elbow.
I slid my arm through and he secured me to his side. “Do you mind walking?” Lucas took a few tentative steps toward the main thoroughfare, leading me beside him.
“No, not at all.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” Lucas picked up the pace and we were off, headed in the direction of the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli.
We walked silently for a while, taking in the bustling city. He led me down each side street with confidence. “You sure know your way around. How long have you been here?” I asked.
“How long have I been in Italy, or how long have I been in Naples? The answers are different.”
“Both,” I countered.
“I’ve been in Italy for”—he tilted his head, lifting it toward the sky, mentally calculating—“about a month and a half,” he finally answered, locking his eyes back onto mine.
“Wow. And Naples?”
He shook his head. “Just a week. I’ve worked my way south. I also like maps. My dad’s a cartographer. When I was a kid, he’d read me maps instead of bedtime stories. Made me good with directions.” He shrugged. “There, now you know everything there is to know about me. Which means I’ve got two days to find out everything there is about you.”
“Uh-uh, signore.” I tsked, waving my index finger between us. “You don’t get off that easy.” I wanted to know everything about him. His dreams, hopes, fears. His favorite colors and what side of the bed he preferred. Everything.
He chuckled. “There’s nothing more to know about me, I swear.” He drew an “X” over his heart with his index finger, then dropped his hand, scooping up mine in the process.
I glared at him while at the same time my heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think so, Mr. San Diego. I know you like to stalk unaccompanied American women touring ancient Roman ruins and you play video games.”
“Design video games,” he corrected.
I dipped my head in apology. “Sorry. Design video games.” Lifting my eyes back to his, I couldn’t help but stare. The blue of his irises sparkled, almost otherworldly. Lost in them, it took me a moment to remember what I’d been talking about. I shook my head a little, trying to demystify the spell his eyes cast. “Don’t you have to play them after you design them?” I asked. I did not speak gamer.
“Well, yes. But what kind of business partner would I be if I left all the work to Dean?”
I had to laugh at the way he said this, all exaggerated and put out. “Taking one for the team, huh?”
“You know it.”
“It’s been years since I’ve played a video game,” I admitted, the Super Mario theme song echoing in my head.
Lucas came to a screeching halt in the middle of the street, dropping my arm. Clutching the fabric of his shirt over his heart, he put on a pained expression. “Years?”
“Yeah,” I answered sheepishly.
“Ah! You’re killing me.” Lucas threw his head back and winced.
“Video games weren’t going to help me pass the MCAT or nail my med school interviews.”
“You should give Surgeon Simulator a try, then.”
“Surgeon Simulator? No way that’s a thing.”
“Honest to God. I have it on my phone. Want to take a stab at it?” He pulled his phone from his pocket, holding it out to me.
“I’ll take your word for it. But where was this information a year ago? I could have been having fun and studying at the same time?” I chuckled.
“What do you do for fun?” He started walking again, motioning for me to follow with a tip of his chin.
What did I do for fun? Soccer came to mind. Though, I hadn’t played in years. “I used to play soccer,” I said solemnly.
“Used to?”
“I played for years but hung up my cleats.” I paused, deciding whether I wanted to dive into the real reason I had quit soccer.
He gestured, making a circular pattern with his free hand, urging me to continue. “You hung up your cleats…”
>
Why not? He’d told me a painful childhood story. I supposed it was my turn. “Sure you want to hear this? It’s sad.”
“I told you my sad story yesterday. Tell yours today. Two negatives make a positive, right?” he offered.
I smiled. “Right.”
“Hit me with it, Linebacker.” He swung our intertwined hands and squeezed, giving me some of his courage.
“I played soccer with my best friend, Penley. She was also my cousin. She was only a few months older than me. We were practically sisters. My uncle—Pen’s dad—helped my mom run our family’s gelato shop. Pen and I were inseparable.
“When we were seven, we decided we wanted to give soccer a try. Our parents signed us up and the rest was history. Year after year, we managed to stay on the same team, and when we got to high school, we both made varsity as freshmen. And along with that came a ‘cool factor’ we had to uphold. On the field, we kicked ass. Off the field, we partied.”
“You partied?”
I glanced up at him. “I used to.”
“What happened?”
I thought back to our lunch at McDonald’s. “Fucking life.”
“Always getting in the way.”
I thought about that for a second. Life getting in the way of life. What a profoundly true statement. “Yeah. Anyway.” I shook my head, getting on with my story. “Our senior year arrived. Penley, our friend Sasha, and I were the elder statesmen—the leaders—and we had a reputation to uphold. The night before the first practice of the season, we threw a massive party. There was a place in the woods where we usually gathered, away from our parents’ prying eyes. We could crank the music and drink to our hearts’ content and no one was the wiser. Pen and I were smashed by the end of the night. I still don’t know how I made it home and how my mother didn’t find out.”
“Naughty girl.” I didn’t miss the smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“I was bad,” I agreed. “So, the team gathered for practice the next day, hiding our hangovers the best we could. Coach thought it would be funny to dedicate the entire two-hour practice to conditioning. I felt like I was going to puke, running suicides down the length of the field. Penley was right beside me, cursing Coach under her breath. I was about to add my two cents, and when I turned my head, she wasn’t there. I looked over my shoulder and saw her lying on the ground. I stopped and backtracked, calling her name. She didn’t move. Coach tried to resuscitate her before the paramedics came and carted her off to the hospital, but she never regained consciousness. Later we were told Penley had a genetic heart defect, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”
