Her sister’s logic made her snort. “Did you see Paolo, guys? I’d be dead not to be attracted.”
“Bae, you can be attracted to someone or appreciate them without wanting to jump into a date. Don’t you know that?” Pris asked.
“Not really. I guess I feel I need to give every guy a chance if he asks.”
Dev blinked. “Um, yeah, that’s exhausting, dude. No wonder you’re all mixed up. Being free with the universe and opportunities is one thing. Dating every guy who shows an interest is another level. Jumanji level.”
Pris giggled. “Paolo hit all my buttons, but I don’t feel the need to explore it.”
“You’re married!” Bailey said. “I’m single.”
“So what? You know what you need? An intervention,” Dev said briskly. “From now on, the next four men who hit on you or ask you out, you say this word: NO.”
“Just no? What if there may be a potential for something great?”
“Then he’ll keep asking and you can say yes on the fifth time,” Dev said.
Pris sighed. “Dev’s right. Just say no. You need to give yourself permission to be okay with yourself for not jumping at every opportunity. I don’t think I realized you put such pressure on yourself, Bae.”
“Which is another reason you get involved with men who are easy to leave,” Dev added.
“Is Will that theater guy?” Pris asked. “You mentioned him once or twice. When did you break up?”
Bailey nibbled at her lip and began walking again. “Right before I came here.”
“Why?” Dev asked.
“I thought it was time. I was afraid he was getting too attached.”
Dev made a noise under her breath. “Him? Or you? Man, Dad did a number on you too, huh?”
“I have no issues with Dad,” Bailey said in surprise. “I’m not like you guys. I forgave him.”
“Forgive, sure. But his actions got into your psyche and may have made you question what’s real and what’s not. You were little during the divorce, Bae, but it still affected you.”
She stared at Dev. The words were brisk and honest, delivered in her usual no-nonsense tone. But the easy acceptance of them gave her the permission to ponder the idea. She hated tossing any blame around to Mom or Dad. Bailey believed each individual has her own choice on how to live. But maybe ignoring it and forging forward left some remnants behind that she hadn’t dealt with.
“I never really thought about it,” she said faintly. “I hate people who think everyone else is the problem.”
“That will never be you,” Pris said. “But it’s time you gave yourself a break.” She dragged in a breath. “Maybe it’s time we all do.”
They walked in silence, letting the gorgeous scenery soothe them. Mega-yachts perched behind them and littered the shoreline. They began the steep incline of steps, and suddenly Pris turned, her face filled with excitement.
“Let’s go out tonight.”
Bailey raised a brow. “We go out every night.”
“No, I mean, let’s go party! Let’s go dancing! They have this fabulous club called Music on the Rocks—it sounds really cool, and things have been so intense lately. I think we all need a break to have some fun.”
“I had fun on this tour,” Dev said with a bit of defensiveness.
Bailey smiled. Pris got so excited when she was amped up to do something she believed was a bit naughty. “I’m in. I agree, let’s get our groove on.”
Dev sighed. “Fine, I’ll go. But I didn’t bring anything sexy or clubby with me.”
“We have time to shop right after lunch,” Pris said firmly, more bounce in her step as they climbed. “Why don’t you invite Hawke?”
“Huh? You think he’d want to come to a club?” she asked doubtfully.
“Duh, yes, he’d probably love to go dancing with you, idiot,” Bailey said fondly. “Ask him.”
“I don’t want him to intrude on our time,” she said slowly. “I told him I’d be careful about that.”
Affection surged through her at Dev’s uncomfortable expression. This was new to them all, trying to honor one another without walking on eggshells. She figured it’d get easier with time and more natural. For now, she was grateful Dev cared enough. “Let’s do dinner together and Hawke can meet us at the club,” Bailey offered. “A perfect compromise.”
“Agreed,” Pris chimed in.
Dev nodded. “Okay, I’ll ask him.”
Bailey enjoyed the look on her sister’s face. She’d rarely seen Dev interested in a man—her sister preferred to hide behind a stoic facade—but right now, it was obvious she was both nervous and excited.
They were all stretching themselves in different directions.
Bailey hoped they’d all end up in a better place when they finally left, but the trip wasn’t over, and she knew fate had a wicked sense of humor.
For now, she’d wait. Think a bit. And dance.
chapter thirty
Olivia
I was in Positano for two whole days before I went to see Rafe.
I’d tried. But being here, so close to him and the memories of us, was too much to overcome. I’d avoided the main beach and boats in favor of long walks, quiet moments in the cafés, and browsing through the shops. I sat in the garden and sketched. I thought.
Yet, every hour spent here only led to my feet walking the path to his front door. Hands trembling, heart beating wildly in my chest, I knocked early that evening and waited. Prepared to greet his wife and children. His dad. A close friend or a woman he was dating. Anyone but the man who answered the door.
“Livia?”
His voice held the familiar lilt as he said my name. Shock reflected from his face, and I took the moment to greedily devour his presence. God, he hadn’t changed. Yes, he was older, but age only added to the full power of his presence. His muscles seemed leaner, the creases around his eyes and mouth more pronounced. Chocolate-brown curls still flopped over his brow in an unkempt mess that made my fingers tingle; I ached to run them through the strands. But it was his eyes that drew me in, captivated, and held me prisoner.
Dark, and deep, with a sooty blackness that both welcomed and blamed me. I held my breath as we stared at each other, caught up in another time and place, and my throat tightened with emotion.
“Rafe. I’m . . . sorry. Sorry I didn’t write and tell you I was coming. And I wasn’t going to. I knew I shouldn’t. I’m only here for a week, and I was going to leave you alone, but I just . . . couldn’t.” My words were mangled, and suddenly it was too much. What was I doing? Torturing us both with what-ifs and rubbing salt in a wound? I had to get out of here.