8. Chapter 8
“God, this is so boring,” Carmin says as she pulls her head from her hands. I’d given up on the tour a while ago. While I do enjoy art, the guide manages to make it sound like a bedtime story rather than traveling through time.
“We should be halfway through at least.” I attempt to comfort her, but it only elicits another heavy sigh. “It could be worse. There could be no air conditioning.”
She nods. “I guess you’re right. But tell me, how did it go with Justin?”
My hands swish across my chest as I begin to tug on my necklace. My face warms alongside the smile I’d held in for too long. For once, fear isn’t chained around my ankles as I think about the possibilities for tonight—for the future.
“It was… amazing,” I remark as the memories flush through me. “I mean, we didn’t talk much, but it felt so nice. And I even kind of—may have—asked him out tonight?”
Carmin’s gasp sends a flock of stares our way, and I give a small smile as a knot forms in my stomach.
“That’s fucking incredible, Gina,” Carmin whispers excitedly, practically bouncing on her toes.
A warmth washes over me as I replay the moment in my head. “I still can’t believe I asked him. And that he said yes?”
“Of course, he would say yes. You’re amazing.” Carmin gushes and lets out a little squeal. “I’m so proud of you—”
Like a crack of thunder, Melody shushes us, her glare tranquilizing.
I can’t help but giggle a little at Elijah’s disappointed older brother’s stare.
I love them both, but they’re a perfect match.
Elijah would never hear it from me, but I can’t help but be jealous of them.
They know and read each other like a book with never-ending pages.
One facial muscle out of place, and they know exactly what the other is thinking.
My heart beats for those moments. To wake up next to someone who doesn’t need a single word to know my love and consume all of me.
Waiting for them to turn back around, Carmin gives my arms a soft squeeze before dropping her voice to a low whisper. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for you. This is perfect. I’ll meet you in your suite later to help you get dressed.”
“That’s sweet, but I don’t think I—” Carmin’s eyes puppy dog with little effort, and my chest pinches as I throw on an agreeable smile. “That would be great, Cam. Thank you.”
She thanks me several times before moving back towards the group as they move into a different area. My arms wrap around myself as my head falls forward and my cheeks begin to ache with pride, although my stomach is tying itself in knots. This is the good kind of anxious, though. Right?
My mind races with all the possible scenarios for tonight.
What I’ll wear, his reaction or lack thereof, what I should say, and definitely the things I shouldn’t.
This is my chance. Messing things up for myself now isn’t an option, and it’s not like I can back out after such a huge step forward. This will work—it has to.
Out of the corner of my eye, a figure walks up beside me.
I don’t need to see his face to know the woody, cinnamon scent of his cologne.
His arms cross over his chest as he looks at the sculpture in front of us, but peering up at him, I know he’s only pretending to have interest in it as his hand comes to scratch his chin.
Shaking my head, I take the bait. “Do you know this piece, or are you looking for an excuse to talk to me?”
Leo shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just admiring the work as anyone would.”
“Really. So tell me what you like about it,” I say as my hand comes to my hip. Apollo and Daphne stood raised before us, Daphne looking more fearful than wooed.
“It’s got a great structure. Bernini really knew what he was doing.”
I roll my eyes as Leo smirks down at me, so proud of himself. “Are you not an art historian?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have an opinion about every piece of art I come across.”
“But you seem to have all the opinions about things not within your scope of understanding.”
Leo puts his hands up in defense. “Alright, you got me. Damn.”
Satisfied, I continue to peer up at the statue. “Why don’t you want to come tonight?”
“Because I know you don’t want me there,” Leo confesses with a sigh.
My brows furrow as I turn to him. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know, maybe how annoyed you are with me and how I can only seem to make you more anxious. And Justin.”
“What about Justin?”
Leo shrugs. “I don’t really want to be around him right now, is all.”
“Can I get a crumble of context?”
“I just think you deserve better than someone like him?”
My hands come into fists at my sides. “What are you trying to say? Someone like who?”
“I don’t know, Gina.” He pauses before letting out a slow breath, his eyes set into mine again—softer this time.
“Someone who looks at you with care in their eyes, who doesn’t make you clam up when you clearly have so much more to say and give if they actually took the time to get to know you. Someone who sees the real you.”
His gaze remains steady on me as I look between his eyes to find a waver of doubt, pity, or the ending of some weird joke.
But the look of assurance in his eyes only seems to intensify as if he knows what I’m waiting for.
Like he knows I’m quick to judge him—rule out his words as nothing more than false kindness to make himself feel better.
Or maybe it’s what I force myself to believe.
I draw in a deep breath as a heaviness stirs in my chest. “And how would you know who’s the real me?”
Leo moves in closer to me, letting his words drape over me in a soft cloud. “I’ve been watching you shine for years, Gina.”
The confession builds in my spine and swells in my chest—a feeling so unfamiliar, yet calm, as it settles into tender childhood wounds.
A smile teases at the corners of his mouth.
Did his lips always look so full and soft?
My ears fill with heat as it’s all my mind seems to consume before my roaming gaze follows his biceps and the veins in his forearms. The swelling in my chest tightens, only pulled out of my trance when his hand comes to my arm.
“Gina?” Leo says with concern. “You okay?”
Nodding, I quickly straighten as I take a step back. “Of course. Never been better,” I awkwardly chuckle as my hand comes over the spot where his touch still seems to linger. My eyes dart around the open space desperately for any excuse to make this less awkward.
“Um, the group seems to have moved on. We should get going, you know how Elijah and Melody are.” My feet pick up a pace that could have been a small jog as I rush to find the others.
My hand comes to the base of my throat as if to loosen the tightness that grows there.
A cloud of confusion swarms in my mind, and I fight to push it away, but it only darkens with curiosity as the picture of Leo lies at its center.
I shake my hands as I’m finally able to find the group and settle next to Carmin, but the soft squeeze of Leo’s hand and the unknowing flare in his eyes tug at me tirelessly—something I quickly forget as I find Justin from across the room.
His smile lights me in that familiar way that forces my thoughts to him alone.
Yet, the tugging persists with burning agitation.