Chapter Twenty-Eight
We meet up with Luca a few hours later as we’re walking the Royal Mile, a group of streets that link Edinburgh Castle to the Palace of Holyroodhouse. I expect him to be glowing from basking in the arms of his diva, but he seems subdued and distracted instead. It must be getting harder to leave her.
He scans the shopping bags I’m carrying. “Did you get a tartan skirt?”
“No, we didn’t get a chance,” I say, but the truth is I veered Andrew away from the task. I don’t need any more reminders of Luca than I’m already carrying.
“We could still grab one,” he says.
“I think we’re already late. I don’t want your parents to hateme.”
He nods. “Where’s the car?”
“You already asked me that,” Andy replies.
“Oh, yes, on Calton Road.” He checks the time on his phone. “Story’s right, we should go.”
“Are you okay?” Andrew asks him.
He nods. “Aye, everything’s proper.”
On the way back to Oban, Luca insists on hearing our sightseeing details, although he makes us repeat ourselves so much that Andrew sends me questioning glances from his perch in the back. It’s hardly surprising the guy would be distracted, though, considering the bedroom gymnastics his girlfriend is always singing about. So I talk inanely about the scarf and shortbread cookies I bought for my mom on Princes Street, and the views from Edinburgh Castle.
“I’m not gonna lie, though, we kind of had to run through the Royal Botanic Garden to hit even half of your list.”
Luca doesn’t even laugh. “Hmmm?” he says.
I come up with something else to say then so he doesn’t have to pay attention. It’s exhausting after a while, but it’s better than imagining the details of what has him lost in thought. I console myself with thinking I wouldn’t want to be Jasmine even if it meant having Luca. I’d still rather be ordinary me, sour grapes and all. That works really well, as long as I don’t look over at him and catch the tender edges of a pensive smile. Every time I do that, my heart becomes the muddy blue puddle that watercolor brushes are soaked in.
Luca’s grandmother has arrived, and Andrew’s been asked to dinner, so he comes back to the house with us, which is a good thing. Lately, being alone with Luca has been too much like a forbidden indulgence. Despite Luca’s best attempts to careen us over a cliff, we reach the house by dinnertime. Luca introduces me to his grandmother, who is as sweet to me as the rest of the family has been. She’s a spry, tall woman with colored-blond hair and perfect makeup. The boys want to know what I thought of Edinburgh, and Luca’s grandmother wants to hear what he and Andrew have been doing in Rome. Luca sits beside me, but he’s quiet, except when he’s answering questions or checking if I have enough to eat.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Iona’s made plenty of vegan options.”
He smiles then as if we’re something more than we are, the way he always could turn it on for the cameras, and I’m glad when Camden interrupts to ask if they took me to any of the haunted cemeteries.
“No,” Luca says, draping his arm over my chair. “You aren’t going to top Story’s haunted tours of Rome with a few ghost stories of Gallowglass mercenaries.”
“Ooh, will you take us if we come?” Will asks, and the family erupts into a debate about whether a trip to Rome could be squeezed in before the end of summer. Luca stays out of it and gets vague when the boys press him, and I have the sense he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be in Rome. Once he and Jasmine are out in the open, he can go with her on tour, at least until he has to be at Oxford. Rome is going to feel empty without him. I promise myself to dive into planning for Princeton.
At the end of the night when Luca walks me to my room, I realize it’s the first time we’ve been alone today. It’s a start, anyway. It will get easier. I hope. If not, well, there aren’t many days left together anyway.
“So, sailing tomorrow?” he asks as we stop by my door.
“If you have things to do for the party, we don’t have to.”
He shakes his head. “Mum and Addie have this thing running like clockwork. We’d just be in the way.”
“Sure, then.”
He gives me his dangerous smile, but he’s not doing it intentionally. It’s who he is. Dangerous, just the way Andy warned me at the beginning. We look at each other, but it’s awkward, like he wants to say something.
“Good night,” I say.
“Right, good night.” He turns but then swivels around again. “There’s something we should talk about tomorrow.”
“Okay. Do you want to tell me now? You can come in.”
He looks at me and furrows his brow. “No. It can wait until we’re sailing. I want you in a really good mood when we talk about it.” He gives me a wan smile. “Sleep tight, sweet Story,” he says and turns for real this time.
As he walks away, I let out a heavy breath. Whatever idiotic thing Jasmine wants me to do now must be a real doozy.