Chapter Thirty-Four
MILES
PRESENT
“Pleaseeeee,” Isla begs, her hands gripping mine. “Please, please, please, please, plea?—”
“Oh my god, fine!” I give in. “But you’re going to be the one answering to Marina when she finds out.”
Isla has conned me into auctioning myself off for a date at this year's Ruby Cove Business Convention.
It’s something Caio hosts every year, and I did the auction last year after May and Isla forced me into it. After going on what might have been the most awkward date I’ve ever been on, I was just happy I’d never have to do it again, but here I am.
“How is all of that going?” Caio asks from where he’s sitting on their couch, their cat Marvin in his lap, purring like a motor.
“As good as it can be, I think,” I say, swinging around to face him from my spot on one of the kitchen barstools. “She wants to keep things friendly for now. She doesn’t trust me yet, and I can’t really blame her.”
“You know,” Isla says, walking from the kitchen over to the couch to sit next to her husband and their cat. “Some of the best things can flourish from friendships. We started off as friends. ”
“To be honest,” Caio chimes in. “I never had the intention of being your friend.”
“What?” Isla stares at him.
“I wanted you from the day I met you, sweetheart. Don’t act coy.”
She just turns to face me as a blush flares on her cheeks. “My point is, starting as friends is a good thing, you guys have a lot of history, jumping straight back in could be…reckless.”
God, I want to be reckless with her.
But Isla is right, taking things slow is important, I don’t want to ruin anything by moving too fast.
“She’s in love with you,” Caio says plainly. “It’s easy to see, but Marina puts trust above anything, and you broke it. It’s going to take time to mend that.”
Hearing Caio say it so obviously that Marina is in love with me surprises me, but I don't let it show. “It’s a good thing all I have is time,” I nod towards my arm that is still hanging in a swing.
“How has the physical therapy been?” Isla asks as Marvin prowls onto her lap.
“Good,” I nod. “Actually better than I thought. I should have this thing off in the next week.”
“Miles,” Isla tips her head, a warm smile on her lips. “That’s so good to hear.”
“Yeah,” I smile. “It’ll be good to have free range of motion again, that’s for sure.” I thought a few weeks in a sling would be easy work, but it’s been more than frustrating having to do everything one-handed, especially considering it’s my left hand.
“You’ll still be careful though, won’t you?” Her eyebrows raise in an accusatory manner as she pets the cat, flattening his ears with her palm.
“Yes, Isla, I’ll be careful,” I smile as I shake my head. Sometimes she acts as if she’s the older sibling, but I don't mind it one bit, having her look out for me .
Caio is quiet as he watches me, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Just ask whatever it is that you want to ask,” I say.
His eyes flick to Isla’s almost for confirmation before he speaks.
“What are you going to do when your six weeks are up?” The question kicks me like Boulder’s foot to my ribs.
“You’re trying to gain Marina’s trust, but what’s going to happen when you’re meant to go back to work?
How is anything meant to work between the two of you? ”
“Caio,” Isla gives him a warning glare.
“It’s fine,” I say, “he’s right. I mean I never wanted to do long distance back then, and that’s one small part of the reason that I left but…
” Both of their eyes are stuck on me, hanging off my every word as they wait for an answer.
“All I know is that I want Marina in my life, in whatever way she will let me. I don’t have all of the answers right now, but that is what I know for sure. ”
I don’t have the answers because my head has been spinning over the last few days, this exact question tumbling around my mind like Marina’s leather pants in the laundromat.
It feels foreign to admit that I've barely thought about work since I've been here. I don’t miss it.
I miss flying, sure, being in the air. But I don’t miss the job.
I don’t miss the constant traveling, the endless bare hotel rooms. I don’t miss the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach when I fall asleep at night, and I don’t miss the rush of going from one place to another every day.
Each day I spend here, I realize just how much I like the simplicity of staying in one place.
How much I like the routine I’ve created here, the warmth and comfort of my room at the Lost and Found, and the sense of community waiting around every corner.
I’ve realized how much of life I’ve been missing out on, and I’m not sure if I want to give that up.
“Do you want to go back?” It’s like Isla can read my mind; her face is one of pure confusion when I look up at her.
That question feels perilous. I don’t know what my life would be if I didn’t go back, and not knowing is the one thing that sends my mind spinning. But I don’t know if I like the vision my mind is painting for me when I think about going back.
“I don’t know anymore.”
When I walk out of the elevator into the lobby of Hotel Dolce, the fresh smell hits me straight away. It’s like they put the essence of the ocean into the air vents down here.
As I walk across the marble floors, a flash of dark curls catches my eye. I stop walking, the squeak of my shoes so loud that Marina turns around from where she stands at the front desk.
She says something to whoever she was talking to before making her way towards me. She’s got half of her hair slicked back into a messy bun at the crown of her head, the rest falling around her neck. She looks like a princess. My princess.
“ Ciao ,” she says.
“ Buongiorno, ” I respond.
Her face lights up in surprise. “Haven’t forgotten it all then, huh?”
“It would be pretty pathetic if I forgot that out of everything.”
She smiles, turning towards the door. “True. Did you just visit the newlyweds?” I just nod as I follow her. “Sickly as ever?” she asks.
“Those two are something else,” I say, and her smile just grows.
She turns to face me but doesn’t stop moving, walking backward through the gigantic front doors. “Was she always like that in her relationships?”
I try to think about it, but realize I have no idea. “I don’t think so, but I’m ashamed to say I didn’t see her enough to answer that confidently.”
Marina’s face softens. “You’re here now.”
I just smile in response before she turns around and stops dead in her tracks. “Is that…? ”
“Yup.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide before they fall back on my truck that is parked out front of the hotel.
“No way,” Marina blurts out. “How is this here?” She looks with wide eyes at the same truck I had when she first knew me. I kept it at my Sorrento house to use on holidays since it was the place I went to more than anywhere else.
“I got it driven here.”
“You have too much money,” she jokes.
“How else was I going to get around?” I ask.
Her face contorts into a frown. “Uhhh, walk? This place is tiny.” She rounds the passenger side of the car, the door squeaking as she opens it.
“Nah, I just thought I may as well work on it while I have the time,” I say. “I started before the accident.”
“You still haven’t fixed her up?” Marina looks into the back as if she’ll see the progress—or lack there of—that I’ve made in the last four years sitting on the back seat.
“I’ve been busy.”
That quiets her questions. As if reminding her what I’ve been doing all this time—the job that took me away from her.
I tap the hood of the car. “You’re driving.”
“What?” she asks, but she floats around to the driver's side regardless. “I can’t drive stick.”
“I’ll teach you,” I say as I pass her on my way to the passenger side.
“Right now?”
“You got anywhere else to be?” I ask, looking at her over the hood of the rusty blue truck, hoping her answer is no. It might need a paint job too .
She just smiles in answer, sliding into the driver’s seat. I jump in the passenger side, the doors slamming shut.
I reach into the center console, pulling out a piece of candy and throwing it in my mouth before I hear a chuckle from beside me .
I look up to see Marina with a smile curving the corner of her mouth as she shakes her head. “Old habits die hard, huh?”
I smile. “Yeah, I guess. You want one?”
“Of course I do.” She reaches over and grabs a sweet for herself, as if it’s the most natural thing for her to do, and something about that warms me from the inside out. I like it when we feel like us. When we fall into this dynamic that we know so well.
“Okay,” she says after swallowing her candy. “Where the fuck do I even start?”
“Seatbelt might be good,” I say.
She looks at me, pointing at me like I’m a genius. “Right!” She buckles herself in. “What’s next?”
“Can you reach the pedals?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer, she just adjusts the seat, wrenching it forward until her chest is nearly pressed against the steering wheel. “Now I can.”
“God, I forget how small you are sometimes,” I mutter.
“Please get on with the teaching,” she raises her eyebrows at me and I can’t help but grin.
I clear my throat, trying to focus. “Use your left foot to press the clutch all the way to the floor. Keep your right on the brake.”
“Okay,” she mutters as she follows my instructions. “This feels super unco.”
“You’ll get used to it quickly,” I say, a small smile forming at her uncertainty.
She’s usually all confidence and mettle, but not in this moment. “Okay, now you’re going to move the gear into neutral, and then switch on the ignition.”
She follows my directions and the car rumbles to life. Marina has a quietly proud look on her face, but we haven’t tried to drive yet.
“Slowly let up on the clutch,” she does. “And release the handbrake.”
“But then we will start to roll forward,” she says .
“That’s the idea, princess.” She just looks at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I’m right here, you’ll be fine.”
She nods before releasing the handbrake and like she said, we start to roll forward ever so slowly.
“Okay, now left foot back on the clutch.”
“Mmhmm,” she mutters as she presses it all the way to the floor.
“Good,” I say. “Now move it into first.”
She has her hand on the gearstick, but she freezes. I reach across and place my hand on top of hers, switching into first gear.
I reluctantly take my hand away so she can get both of her hands back on the wheel. “Now slowly release the clutch and press your foot on the accelerator simultaneously.”
She looks down at her feet and I keep my eyes on the empty street ahead of us. “This always looked so easy in the movies,” she says.
“You’re okay, you’ve got this,” I say. “Go slow, go slow!” I wince as she pulls her foot off the clutch too fast and the engine cuts out.
She looks down at her feet in confusion as we continue to roll forward slowly, with gravity alone. “Pull over,” I say, trying not to laugh. “And don’t forget to brake.”
“What…” she mutters as she steers us off the road.
“Foot on the clutch, and into park,” I say, putting my hand over hers again when she reaches for the gear stick.
“What just happened?” she asks. “I did everything you said!”
A chuckle falls from my lips. “You stalled, baby.”
If the term of endearment that just slipped off my tongue bothers her, she doesn’t show it. She just adjusts herself, sitting up straight in the driver's seat. “We’re going again.”