The couple ahead let out a yell and raced toward them.
Oh no.
“Bae, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Pris asked frantically, trying to right herself and check for blood or broken bones.
Bailey groaned, her hand rubbing her head. “No, I’m okay, but that hurt.”
The couple skidded to a stop in front while Dev tried to block them. “Is everyone all right? Should I call someone? We saw her fall from the hill,” the girl gasped out.
“I’m fine. So sorry to scare you. I was just looking at . . . something . . . and must’ve tripped.”
“Good, that could’ve been bad,” the guy said, his voice deep with a southern accent. “Here, let me help you . . .” He trailed off, and that’s when it hit Pris full force.
Her sister’s shorts were at her feet, along with her tiny pink underwear.
And she was mooning the couple.
From the front.
The guy’s eyes bulged out and he took a step back, hand flailing in the air. The girl realized it at the same exact time because she muttered something and grabbed her boyfriend’s hand, leading him away. “Um, as long as you’re good! See ya!”
Pris watched the couple practically run ahead, obviously desperate to put as much distance between them as they could. Dev helped yank Bailey’s clothes up and Bailey finally refastened her shorts. She brushed off the dirt and remnants of her fall, then tossed her head with a snort.
“I bet if they were Italians they wouldn’t have even blinked. Americans are so damn prudish. Like they never peed on a hike before.”
Pris and Dev shared a look.
Bailey marched ahead with a new vigor. “Come on. I want my lemon slushie.”
chapter twenty-two
Olivia
I waited for Rafe by the boats and knew it was time we had a talk.
My stomach squeezed with nerves. Things were beginning to change, and the questions that had bothered me a month ago had now grown to epic, monstrous proportions. I just didn’t know how I’d bring them up.
The moment I saw his beloved face, my heart jumped as if recognizing its other half. Features carved with weariness, his white teeth flashed in the darkness as he came to greet me. We folded into each other, and his muscled heat felt like coming home. “You look so tired,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his rough cheek. The scents of sun, sand, and salt drifted to my nostrils. I pushed his hair back, which immediately sprang back forward. “We can skip going out and go back to the cottage. Aunt Silvia is in Sorrento tonight with friends, so we have the place to ourselves.”
“Do you mind?” He pressed his forehead to mine and took in a breath. “It was a long day and I’ve been looking forward to being alone with you.”
“No, Julia and Ava will understand. Let’s go.”
We held hands and climbed the steps leisurely as he told me about his day. “Dad was scheduling the appointments and double-booked me. I ended up with a very angry family who insisted I take them on a private trip rather than refund their money. It was easier to agree.”
“God, Rafe, you’ve been going nonstop since six a.m. You can’t keep doing this. I thought Italy was the laid-back and take-a-riposte country.”
He laughed. “Sì, but my business caters to tourists, and they do not like the ripostes.”
“Do you know what Americans say to that?”
“What?”
“Screw them.”
He laughed again and his demeanor lightened. We settled back at the house and cracked open the refrigerator, putting together an assortment of snacks to eat. We picked on salty olives, chunks of cheese, and crusty bread drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, talking quietly and soaking up each other’s presence. There was a peacefulness I always experienced around Rafe, as if I could truly take a breath and just be. At the same time, the physical connection always buzzed beneath the surface. Everything would have been perfect if not for this restlessness still nipping at my nerves; the doubts that kept poking through my happiness and reminding me our lives together wouldn’t be like our summers. I remembered my mom used to warn me when I’d beg to live where we vacationed that it would never be the same. “You still have to go to school in Disney World,” she’d tease. “We’d need to work, clean the house, and have the same responsibilities we do back home. It’s not as fun as you imagine.”
I used to wave off her remarks, refusing to believe living in Disney wouldn’t be the best. But lately, I kept wondering what our lives would truly be like day after day when we were finally together.
When our bellies were full, we took a blanket outside and lay on the grass in the garden. The moon was high and bright, and there was only a scattering of stars tonight. We snuggled together, my head on his chest, and soaked up the deep night silence.
“Rafe? Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course. What is it dolcezza?”
“I’ve been thinking more about our plans when I graduate. We haven’t really discussed what would happen. Like, where I’d live or work. That kind of stuff.”
“I know. I figured you’d want to decide what type of job you’d look for first. I know you mentioned museums or galleries, but you didn’t seem sure. What do you want to do?”
“I always thought it would be more art history, but lately I’ve been interested in trying out a gallery. Selling paintings, working with local artists, that sort of thing.”
He arched a brow. “Really? You always said you hated talking to strangers.”
I laughed nervously. “I know. But I changed my mind. I may be good at it.”
“You’d be good at anything, Livia.” His husky voice washed over me with warmth. “There are many galleries around. We can begin making contacts. Maybe your aunt can help. After graduation, you can move in with Dad and me and we will find you a place to work.”
I sifted through his response, wondering why his words didn’t make me feel calmer. “Is there enough room for all of us? I’d hate to be an inconvenience to your dad. And will you still be working alone on this crazy schedule? I don’t know; I was thinking of asking Aunt Silvia if I can stay here.”
He nodded, but a tiny frown furrowed his brow. “Yes, if you’re more comfortable. But when we get married, we’ll be together in my house. I need to take care of my father—he can’t live alone.”
“Of course! Um, married? Oh, I thought we’d be living together or just, I don’t know, trying things out.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and stared at me. “Livia, I love you. I don’t want you living with me unless we’re married. I want a commitment. Don’t you?”