Chapter 16
chapter sixteen
MARISOL
I blow a raspberry as I trudge down the hallway, heading for the kitchen. Coffee. I need coffee.
I slept like shit last night. I heard noises that left me wondering if there was an animal outside my window, or a ghost inside my closet, and I became abruptly aware of how alone I was.
I drove back to Sorrento yesterday morning.
After Carnevale, I thought it best that Leo and I have some space, but ever since I’ve been back, all I can do is replay our conversation from the maze.
I can’t stop thinking about him, and that’s exactly why we need the space.
Everything between us has been a show. The flirting, the touching, all the time spent like a couple—but that conversation was real, and equally as real was how badly I wanted to press my lips to his.
It’s a blessing that Marina and Miles came running around that corner, because if not, I might have fucked this entire thing up. And I can’t afford to fuck this up.
My runway walk for Vittoria Ales is this weekend, and Leo is staying in Ruby Cove until then.
He’ll meet me at the hotel before the event.
That gives me six days to chill the fuck out before seeing him again.
Except that I was supposed to be chilling the fuck out last night, but my mind flooded with thoughts of him.
I press a finger between my brows as my coffee machine begins to whir.
Maybe I need to go with a different tactic.
Distraction. But it’s hard to think about anything else, especially when I unzipped my suitcase last night to find Leo’s gray sweat set folded perfectly on top.
I don’t know how or when he snuck it in there, but I wore it to bed last night, and I’m yet to take it off.
Maybe I should start playing pickleball.
My phone buzzes on the kitchen countertop, Eva’s name lighting up the screen. I pick it up along with my coffee and head straight for the couch, flopping down as I answer the call. “Buongiorno, Eva.”
“Buongiorno, stella mia!”
“Careful,” I say, slinging my legs up over the back of the couch. “I’m no star yet.”
“You were a star since the day you were born, Marisol. People need to see you shine again,” Eva says. “And it’s time for you to shine, cara.”
I find myself upright. “You got me another job?”
“A bikini shoot for a new brand,” she says. “The founder is an influencer, but the brand seems to be gaining a lot of attention, and she wants you. This is a good opportunity for people to see your face again.”
“Okay,” is all I can say. I don’t even care what the brand is; Eva would only choose the best. “When is the shoot?”
“A week from tomorrow.” I let out a breath. No time for sightseeing in Rome then. “I know it’s busy, but this is only the start, Marisol.”
I feel myself grinning up at the ceiling as I flop back down.
To think, just over a month ago, I was considering collaborating with Nutella, and all it took was for me to get drugged in a nightclub, to call my brother’s best friend, and then get conveniently photographed by the paps for me to get modeling jobs again.
Not fucked up at all.
“Are you in?” Eva says, filling the silence.
I scoff out a laugh. “Of course I’m in, Eva. Thank you.”
“I’ll talk to you soon.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and then she hangs up.
I throw my phone to the other end of the sofa, my hands sinking into my hair. If I thought I couldn’t fuck this thing between Leo and me up before, I really can’t now.
* * *
“And you didn’t kiss him?!” Sabrina says with a mouth full of popcorn. “Marisol?!”
“No, and it’s a fucking good thing that I didn’t,” I say, sipping on my mug of herbal tea that’s gone cold as I’ve relayed my trip to Ruby Cove to Sabrina.
“Please enlighten me on how not kissing your brother’s sexy friend who gives you fanny flutters, and you’re literally pretending to date anyway, could possibly be a good thing?”
“Because that’s the thing, Sabrina. It’s all pretend.”
She tips her head. “Okay…but what if it didn’t have to be?”
“No.” I shake my head.
She leans forward. “No what? Why not?”
“Ugh, Sabrina.” I sink into the couch, attempting to disappear.
She holds out a hand to stop me. “Don’t think I didn’t see those pictures of the two of you from Carnevale. They were hot.”
They were hot. The pictures came out that night.
The photographer didn’t waste any time, and within an hour, they were plastered all over the internet.
Article after article speculating about mine and Leo’s relationship; the buzz was almost impossible to escape.
The photos did exactly what they were meant to do.
“Because it’s working, Sabrina. Somehow, this absurd plan is working. I’ve got a runway walk in Rome this weekend and then a shoot next week. I can’t afford to fuck this up because, for some reason, me being in a pretend relationship has slingshotted me back into existence in the modeling world.”
“Okay…but how would you two actually being together fuck that up? It would just make it real.”
Wasn’t I supposed to be distracting myself?
“Because one moment of wanting to kiss him doesn’t mean we should be together, or that we would ever work.”
Sabrina raises her brows. “One moment?” I immediately stand, needing to get away from her all-knowing gaze as I tip the cold tea out into the sink. But she follows me into the kitchen, clutching the bowl of popcorn to her chest. “Look me in my eyes and tell me it was just one moment.”
I sigh, leaning against the countertop with my palms as I look up, meeting her smirk. “It was just one moment.”
She grins. “You’re a fucking awful liar.” She throws a handful of popcorn across the bench at me.
“Can we watch the movie now?” I say.
“Ha! No way.”
“Sabrinaaa,” I groan, moving around the counter. “I can’t do this.” I can’t sit here and talk about Leo and me as if it’s a possibility, because it’s not. It never has been, it never could be.
But why not?
Nope.
“Can we please watch the movie?”
Sabrina must see the defeat in my eyes because she finally lets up. “Yeah.” She slings her arm around my shoulder. “Come on.”
We settle into the couch, my legs in her lap as we push play on The Devil Wears Prada, and I try to force the thoughts of Leo away as we sink into the night.
I should really look into pickleball.