Bailey bumped into her back, pushing her farther into the room. “What’s the matter?”
Pris was lying on the bed, jeans open over her hips. “I can’t get into my jeans,” she whispered in horror. Her long blond hair was spread out on the quilt, giving her an angelic look. Slender feet wriggled back and forth as she began twisting with obvious effort. “They don’t button!”
Bailey muffled a laugh, but Dev glared. “You scared me, idiot! So, buy a bigger pair.”
Pris squealed, staring at her like Dev had suggested she marry an alien and have three-headed babies. “What’s wrong with you? These are my favorite jeans, already worn in—I can’t buy a bigger size! Oh my God, this is awful. What will I do?”
Bailey looked a bit evil. “About time you have the same issues as the rest of the female population. Dev and I deal with our curves every day, so it’s time you slip on your big-girl panties. No pun intended.”
Dev burst out laughing. It was satisfying to see her gorgeous older sister finally wrestle with her pants not fitting.
“You both suck! What am I supposed to wear on the scooter?”
“Got any yoga pants?” Bailey asked innocently.
Pris threw a pillow at her. Bailey grabbed it, climbed on the bed, and began using it to smash Pris, who shrieked like a toddler and tried to cover her face.
Yeah, Pris would be the first one to be killed in a horror movie. It was a wonder how she’d thrived in the competitive ballet world, but maybe her ruthlessness was only confined to dance.
Dev broke up the fight after getting in a few good slugs, and gave Pris a pair of her stretchy pants.
Of course, Pris looked like a model in them, whereas Dev sometimes felt a tad dumpy in the same pair. The thought caught but didn’t hold this time—just floated off into outer space. She realized the past few days she wasn’t as harsh on herself, and the usual self-flagellations didn’t hold any sting. She held herself to a high standard that had always seemed to work, especially with her career. But maybe she could give herself a break now and then regarding the things she couldn’t control. Was this what falling hard for a guy did? Made sharp edges all gilded and rosy?
She actually liked it.
Hawke seemed pretty satisfied with who she was—inside and out. Not that they’d slept together or even really fooled around. Their relationship consisted of kisses, deep conversations, and late evenings together with Lucifer. Sometimes they took an afternoon walk, and Hawke began introducing her to a variety of neighbors he was friends with. She loved the easy warmth with everyone she met and began to settle into herself. For the first time, Dev wasn’t identifying herself only through her work. It was a huge part of her life, and she loved dissecting interesting elements of the financial and teaching world with Hawke, who never got bored. But it was the other subjects he teased out that surprised her.
Her sharp wit didn’t piss him off but made him laugh. Her usual defenses were met with quiet patience. When they were together, the hours stretched long and languid but also held a sharp urgency, tempting her to reach deeper to keep building the connection. Time was both their enemy and their friend. She had never felt so off her game and plugged in at the same time.
Bottom line?
She was a mess and she didn’t care.
Three days left. This time, the ticket would need to be used. The three of them had met with the real estate agent and everyone decided to have the paperwork ready to go, but to hold back until they wanted to rent the house. Pris might want to bring Garrett. Bailey might decide to come back in between jobs. The money that had once been so critical to Dev didn’t seem as urgent. Now it was personal. She wanted the house to be used in the right way, like Mom would have wanted.
Plus, it was near Hawke.
They headed out to the scooter place, where Pepe greeted them and got their Vespas ready. They found helmets and did a brief tutorial, and everything went smoothly except for the argument between her and Bailey regarding who got the orange Vespa and who got black.
Orange was too flashy anyway. If Bailey wanted to act like a toddler, let her. Dev was the grown-up.
More confident after spending a week getting used to the roads, they zoomed out to the famous Amalfi Coast. Pris was way too slow, so Bailey took the lead and Dev kept a steady pace in the middle. The scooters hugged the twisty cliffs and the sea spilled underneath them in a blinding Listerine blue. The colors hit her vision all at once: burnt sienna, clean white, turquoise, deep burgundy, and bright, sunny yellows. Earthy rock blended with lush green trees. The streets once packed with touring crowds in Positano now opened up to vast, open space. Italy was a sensual, delicious contradiction for the senses, and Dev realized she’d fallen in love here, just like her mother. She was vibrantly alive and happy. She never wanted it to end.
The wind tugged at loose strands of her hair and caressed the bare skin of her limbs as they rode, refusing to stop until her butt was screaming and she was desperate for a drink. They pulled over to take pictures at popular spots and stopped for a brief lunch. Pris insisted no carbs for at least twenty-four hours, so they ordered salads, gulped Pellegrino, then took off again.
The trip reminded her a bit of the walk on the Path of the Gods. The longer they rode, the faster they left the past behind them and built something brand-new. Bailey’s laughter carried on the wind, and Pris’s shrieks now held bubbles of excitement. The handlebars and the zigzagging road beneath the wheels were her only focus.
They finished their drive at the Hotel Prestige in Sorrento and ate dinner. Dev sipped wine and watched the sunset fall over the skyline, a slow creep of color bleeding into the horizon. The silence felt reverent; humble; a place to rest within the trip and herself. Bailey reached out for her hand and Dev squeezed it. The world seemed laid out before her, a gift she never wanted to forget.
She felt like she’d swallowed a taste of magic.
The trip home was long and more difficult in the dark. They went slower, bodies tired, returning home late in the night. Dev took a shower and changed into comfortable clothes.
“Are you heading to Hawke’s?” Bailey asked, already lounging in sweats.
“Yeah, do you want to come? Hang a bit?”
Bailey smiled. “No, but thanks for the invite. I’m going to draw. I took a lot of pictures, but my head is full of images I want to get down on paper.”
“Mom loved to draw.” Dev sat down for a moment beside her. “I used to catch her sometimes sketching us, and then I’d yell at her to stop.”
“I remember that! I always wondered if she missed working in the art world. Raising kids and leaving what you love behind must’ve been challenging.”
“Like Pris?”
Bailey nodded. “But I’m hopeful for her. She’s been talking to Garrett every day and she looks happier. Or at least, determined to change.”