8. Chapter 8
Benson
“I am in so much trouble.” A crowded rooftop restaurant is not the place to have this conversation, particularly because Riccardo is here with all of his family and closest friends, but I’m out of my depth here.
Hence why I have pulled my buddy aside and said the most out-of-context thing I could say.
Riccardo lifts an eyebrow, leaning against the wall overlooking the twilit city. “What kind of trouble are we talking here?”
This is going to sound so stupid, especially from me. “I might be falling for Avery.” Leaning my elbows on the wall, I stuff my hands into my hair and wait for him to pass judgment. When he says nothing, I look over and find him staring at me with one eyebrow raised.
“Who’s Avery?”
Ah right, he hasn’t been living my life the last two days.
In fact, he hasn’t seen me except for half a second this morning when I stumbled out of his second cousin’s room, where I will unfortunately be spending the week.
The guy seems nice enough, but his room only has a queen size bed.
I’m man enough to share a bed when I have to, but Riccardo’s cousin sleeps in the buff, and that sight was not something I needed first thing in the morning.
Or ever.
“The woman I met on the plane,” I say, shaking my head.
“Wait, is she the real reason you bailed on the winery yesterday?”
“Yup.”
“And you’re falling for her?”
“Maybe.”
“Where’s she from?”
I laugh, feeling almost manic. “No idea.”
“You spent all afternoon with her and don’t know where she lives?”
Groaning, I stand up straight again and stuff my hands into my pockets.
This restaurant has a fantastic view of Florence, though it doesn’t quite compare to looking at it from the dome at the Santa Maria cathedral.
I wonder if Avery stayed to do her tour or if my sudden personality shift messed her up.
It’s been a few hours at this point, but is she standing in the dome right now, gazing in my direction?
With a grunt, I shake my head and force my focus to Riccardo and his justifiably concerned expression. I’ve known Avery for two days . There’s no reason I should be freaking out like this. “No, I don’t know where she lives because we agreed to keep anything personal out of it.”
Riccardo’s eyebrow somehow rises higher. Impressive. “Out of what, exactly?”
“Our…relationship.” That’s not what we have. It’s a fling. But based on the way I reacted this afternoon, it’s more than a fling. It’s…something. Why is it so impossible to find the right words when it comes to this woman? I’m better than this. “We’re keeping things casual.”
He scoffs. “You always keep things casual. It’s your entire MO.”
“But she doesn’t. So we decided to take the pressure off and keep it all surface level on both sides.”
“Uh huh.”
He’s not getting it, but I’m too wound up to keep explaining.
“Just… I don’t know where she lives, okay?
Or what she does for work or her last name.
” Not that any of it matters. As soon as this trip is over, I’ll be out West for a bit, then on to spend a few weeks in Alabama.
That says nothing about my goals to expand my business, not just in the number of clients I have but into other countries as well.
My job doesn’t lend itself to settling down, which is exactly why I ran from Avery when things started to feel more…
Well, real .
“Let me get this straight,” Riccardo says.
“You met a woman on the plane, gave her your hotel room, decided to ditch your best friend to hang out with her, and you haven’t tried to learn more about her?
Seriously? And I know you’re not getting any action because my cousin Nick said you were an excellent bed mate last night, so what’s your goal here? ”
I groan. “Please tell me those weren’t the words he used.”
“Verbatim, unfortunately.” Though he chuckles, there’s sympathy in his eyes. “We can try to find someone else with space.”
One of Riccardo’s coworkers has a sofa in his room, but having worked with the guy back when I was helping Riccardo start his trading company, that might be worse than Cousin Nick. And no one else I talked to has space.
“It’s fine,” I mutter. “Nick’s sleeping habits aren’t the problem here.”
“Right. This is about you having feelings. A new experience for you.”
I don’t like the way his explanation paints me as cold and heartless, even if he’s not wrong. Not about being heartless but about generally avoiding feelings. But I’ll deal with the implications of my dislike of Riccardo’s assessment some other time. “What do I do, Ricky?”
His eyes practically roll to the back of his head. “You tell her how you feel, you idiot.”
Tell her that my plan to keep all things personal out of our interactions has failed because even the most inane facts about her are fascinating? Great idea. No chance of that backfiring at all. “I can’t do that,” I mutter. “She deserves someone who can stick around.”
“You do remember you set your own schedule, right?”
“The whole reason my business works as well as it does is because I’m flexible and mobile. You know that.”
“Sure,” Riccardo agrees, “but you can adapt. Some might say that’s your strongest suit.”
“Change my whole life for a woman I met three days ago?”
Dropping his arms, he laughs and starts making his way back to where Siena is sitting. “You started this conversation, Bens. Not me.”
He’s right. The whole reason I ran away this afternoon is because I’ve already strayed too far into something I’m not equipped to handle.
That moment in front of the Santa Maria del Fiore, when Avery was talking about her dreams and the bells were ringing and the sun was bathing her in a soft orange light, something flashed through my mind.
Not a memory because it hasn’t happened, but the mental image felt like something familiar.
I imagined Avery on a hillside, with a spectacular sunset behind her and a white dress hugging her curves.
And I got spooked.
I watch as Riccardo slides into the seat next to Siena and kisses his almost-bride, and his smile is an outward manifestation of feelings I’ve never had.
I’ve been pretty content with my life for a long time, willingly choosing an unsettled existence because I’ve never seen myself as the settle-down type.
But maybe there’s something to be said for finding the right person and keeping a promise.
I’m not anti-marriage. Never have been. My parents have been married for almost forty years, and my two brothers seem to be happy with their choices to marry young and have big families.
But I’ve never seen that kind of life for myself.
Not when I’ve always jumped from interest to interest since I was a kid.
There’s so much of the world to explore and experience, and something about a settled life is terrifying.
What if I missed out on something amazing because I was in a stable career and stuck in one place?
Those fears are why I ran from Avery. If I start thinking about a future with her, how long before I feel too stifled and trapped and have to escape?
Tell her , Riccardo said, and he’s right. Not about telling her about my growing feelings, but I should tell her why I ran away today instead of kissing her. She deserves that much, just as much as she deserves a guy who will stick around after the week is over.
I catch Riccardo’s gaze and gesture to the door with my head, telling him that I’m heading out.
He nods, mouthing, Tell her , as Siena nods beside him, and I can’t help but chuckle as I take the stairs down to the street and start walking back to the hotel.
He’s a good friend, and I’m glad I made it out here for his wedding.
He and Siena deserve every bit of happiness.
Avery does too.
She’s not in the hotel lobby when I get there—why would she be?
—and while I technically have her phone number because I sent myself some of the pictures I’ve taken of her over the last couple of days, I don’t want to use it if I don’t have to.
Things need to stay casual between us, which means we can’t have a way to stay in touch when we leave Florence.
There’s a good chance Avery is still out and about in the city, unless I broke the part of her that is brave enough to wander without a plan, so talking to her might have to wait until morning.
I’d rather it didn’t. If she sleeps on the confusion she undoubtedly feels after my behavior today, she’s going to overthink things and keep her distance from here on out.
That’s a better scenario than keeping things going, but it’s not the one that benefits me so I don’t like it, as selfish as that sounds.
I still want to spend time with her. I’m a little desperate for it, honestly.
But when I’ve cleared the air, if she chooses not to associate with me anymore, I’ll honor her decision. Even if it sucks.
Giulia is manning the front desk again, and she smiles when she sees me. “ Buonasera , signore!” she greets, happy to speak Italian when her hotel is full of Americans and a groom who pretends he’s a local despite barely spending more time here than I have. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Do you remember the woman I gave my room to?”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Sì.”
“Have you seen her today? Is she here? In her room?” That sounds creepy, so I scramble to add an explanation. “I’ve been showing her around Florence, but I had to leave her on her own for a bit tonight, so I want to make sure she’s safe.”
“Ah.” Giulia’s expression turns to worry. “I have not seen her, no. Should we be worried?”