One night, Julia invited me to meet for dinner with her friends. I dressed in dark-wash capri jeans and a black halter top that showed off my burgeoning tan and left a patch of my stomach naked. I stuck with flat sandals because I knew heels would make me trip on the uneven streets and steps, but added a gold ankle bracelet. My hair was a riotous mess with the humidity, so I pinned it up. Gold hoops and red lipstick gave me extra confidence.
I faced the steps with a deep breath and paced myself as I made my way down. The night was balmy, and I was a bit sweaty by the time I reached the restaurant. The place was packed, and I had to weave in and out before I found Julia. She waved me over to a large table outside by the marina.
“Ciao!” she said, smacking my cheeks in an enthusiastic kiss. “You look amazing!”
“Grazie. So do you.”
Julia had braided her long hair, and it looped over one shoulder. Her white shorts and creamy top showed off her perfect body and lean legs. I tried not to fiddle with my halter top and forced a wide smile at the group she introduced me to.
Marcus, one of Julia’s friends, immediately sat next to me, chatting me up with a casual confidence I liked. But his gaze kept sliding over my exposed stomach, touching on my breasts, and I almost wished I’d brought a jacket. Usually, I loved when a guy looked at me in admiration, but there was something about him that made me a bit uncomfortable. I tried to shake it off. He ordered me another drink, touching my arm while he spoke in decent English.
“Have you seen the secret caves yet?”
I shook my head. “No. My aunt has been busy, but I’m hoping to do some exploring. I’d love to see the Blue Grotto in Capri.”
“Overrated,” he snorted. He had an abundance of muscles in a compact frame, but his face seemed a tad too big, with a prominent forehead and a slanted, jutted jaw. Light brown eyes held a glint of sharp interest. “I can take you out if you want. Show you more stuff.”
“Thanks, I’ll let you know.”
“This Saturday. I’ve got my dad’s boat.” His fingers wrapped around my wrist.
I laughed and pulled away, reaching for my drink. “I’ll have to see. My aunt is careful who I go out with.”
“Doubt it. She’s known to have a good time herself. What do you say?”
I opened my mouth to tell him no way, not after he’d insulted my aunt, but another voice interrupted.
“Back off, cugino. When you insult Silvia, you insult my father.”
Rafael stood beside me. Immediately, my skin began to tingle and that hot, melty feeling slid through my veins. He was dressed in a plain white T-shirt, denim shorts, and boat shoes. His chocolate curls spilled over his forehead. He didn’t even glance at me. His gaze was glued to Marcus, his jaw clenched, and a thrill coursed down my spine.
“Ah, come on, Sartori, you know I’m joking.” Marcus jerked his head, a slight smirk on his lips. “Have you two met yet?”
“Yes,” I said, sliding away from Marcus. I nodded at Rafe. “It’s good to see you again.”
Did his face soften when he looked at me, or was it my imagination? There was such gentleness in his eyes, but also a male intensity that made my throat close up with longing. “You too.”
Marcus laughed and the waitress came back with our drinks. He lifted his in a mock salute. “Guess the three of us can become best buddies this summer. I was just inviting Olivia on my boat this weekend.”
Rafe broke into a litany of Italian, and I watched in fascination as Marcus’s face morphed into anger. He shot some remarks back to Rafe, and I tried to catch a word here and there, but it was too fast for my ears. Finally, Marcus lifted his hands high in the air and shook his head.
“Not worth a fight. Not for this.” He shot me a look, scooped up his drink, and headed over to the far side of the table.
My cheeks burned as I watched, uncomfortable that I’d done something to make a scene, but then Rafe was touching my hand, his voice soft. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t mess up your night. I just know Marcus, and he’s a bit . . .” He trailed off, seemingly just as embarrassed as I was. “He comes on very strong sometimes.”
I smiled with pleasure. He’d actually worried about me. “I’m glad you did. You were right, I wasn’t feeling very comfortable. Is he your cousin? I can’t understand much Italian but it sounded like you called him that.”
He let out a breath. “No, it’s just an expression. I call many of my friends my cousins. Marcus is known around here for his love of new women, but he has a girlfriend he always goes back to. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Giddiness gripped me. This was the first time we were having a real conversation. At all those previous parties he’d kept his distance until I figured he’d never be interested. But now I read the situation differently. “Well, I appreciate it. The last thing I need is a pissed-off Italian girl beating me up for trying to steal her man.”
He grinned. “I thought Americans were tough. Don’t you take classes like kickboxing or karate?”
I laughed. “I did tap dance when I was young. I could jump all over her feet.”
Rafe shook his head. “That’s terrible. It is a good thing I saved you.”
“Yes. It is a good thing.”
We stood together in the shadows while laughter and chatter and clinking glasses swarmed around us. Julia came over and interrupted the moment, waving him to take a seat with everyone. “Rafe! About time you decided to talk to Livia!”
Was that a patch of red on Rafe’s cheeks or my imagination?
He laughed and shook his head. “Sì. Usually you are doing all the talking, chiacchierona.”
With a mischievous wink, she spoke to Rafe in rapid Italian, glancing back and forth between us, then floated away.
“Uh-oh. What did she say?” I asked, fiddling with my straw. I hated the fact that Julia or her friends were mocking me and my crush on Rafe. Was it that obvious?
“She said it was a good thing I took care of you. We get many Americans here for the summer. Many are a bit—how do you say—snooty? Acting as if we are less because we don’t have money, or a fancy education. But you are different.”
A rush of relief poured through me. It was nice to know Julia honestly liked me. In just a short time, I was beginning to trust her more than some of the mean girls at my high school. “I’m glad because I think she’s super nice. And beautiful.”
The words popped out before I could stop them, and I tried to fight another blush.
“Sì. But so are you.”
“Sorry. I didn’t say that to fish for a compliment.” I took a long swallow of my drink. “I’m just glad everyone doesn’t think I’m a bitch.”