8. Chapter 8 #2
I want to say no, but the unease in my gut says otherwise.
I like to think I’m generally concerned for the wellbeing of the people around me, but this feels different from anything I’ve experienced before.
Swearing under my breath, I run a hand through my hair and grab my phone, deciding a text is better than wondering all night if Avery is safe.
“Buonasera, signora!” Giulia says, clear relief in her tone.
I look up, and a wave of the same relief washes over me at the sight of Avery standing a few yards away. “You made it back.”
Avery frowns, glancing between me and the receptionist. “I am capable of doing things on my own, you know. I would have been fine all week without you.”
Ouch . But I deserve that. “Can we talk?” Ugh, those are the worst words in the world, second only to it’s not you, it’s me .
She gazes at the elevator almost longingly. “It’s getting late.”
“Please.” I consider stepping forward and touching her arm, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the conversation we need to have. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”
Sighing, she looks down at the bag of chocolate in her hand and nods. “If it’s quick. I need to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
Man, I must have really done a number on her if she’s worrying about early bedtimes while on vacation.
She didn’t care last night when I kept her out past midnight.
I don’t want to take the blame for subduing her more adventurous side, but I wasn’t at all careful with our interactions over the last couple of days and likely gave her the wrong idea.
I’m used to casual, but she isn’t, and I should have realized we probably weren’t on the same page.
“What do you want to talk about?” Avery asks.
I glance at Giulia, who is unabashedly watching us.
“Let’s go out onto the terrace. There’s a nice bench out there by the fountain.
” I offer my hand to Avery, but she ignores it and starts walking.
Weirdly, her disdain relaxes me so I’m not so keyed up and nervous.
If she has already turned against me, we could go without this conversation and be fine.
I shake my head and follow her to the back door.
Convenient as it would be to part ways now, I admire Avery too much to leave her hanging.
I’d rather get the truth out there—some of it, anyway—and let her decide how we proceed.
In my line of work, I make too many decisions for other people as it is, and I shouldn’t do it here.
When she finds the bench, Avery sits on the very end of it in a clear display of wanting to keep distance.
I hate it, but I sit at the other end. If we weren’t stuck in an awkward silence backed by the soft splashes from the fountain, this would be the kind of romantic spot that would lead to a lot more than talking.
But I’m probably not going to get a kiss from Avery tonight. Or ever.
“What’s this about?” Avery asks again.
“How was the Duomo?”
She rolls her eyes and pulls a piece of chocolate from the bag, popping it into her mouth. “Can we skip the small talk?”
I like her even more when she’s snippy. What’s wrong with me? “Sorry, yes. I want to explain what happened earlier.”
“When you ran away?”
Oh good, she thought it looked like running just like I did. Not embarrassing at all. “I…” What do I say? Years of using my words to build up dozens of businesses, and I’ve got nothing. “I overreacted.”
She lifts an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. “To what?”
“To you.”
The eyebrow drops. “Excuse me?”
“To how much I…” Nope. I’m not going there.
I’m not going to tell her that I’m into her and then turn around and tell her that we’re just friends, if that.
“I was unfair to you. I knew this was only going to last a week, but I didn’t act like I knew it.
I was careless, and you deserve more than that. ”
“More,” she repeats, grabbing another piece of chocolate. “In what sense, exactly?”
Okay, yes, I can see the confusion. I could mean any number of things.
More touching? Yes. More personal details?
Probably not. More honesty? That can be dangerous, but I always tell my clients that honesty and authenticity is their best asset.
“I’m not the kind of guy who commits,” I say.
It’s true, but it makes me sound…not great.
“And I wasn’t acting in a way that fits with that truth. So I’m sorry.”
She seems to process my words, and then she softens. Her shoulders relax, the lines on her forehead smooth, and a corner of her mouth turns up. “Benson,” she says, the sharpness in her tone gone now. “I agreed to keep it all casual. I knew this week wasn’t going to turn into a whole relationship.”
Right. Of course she knew that. I’m the one who got freaked out by a few feelings. Apparently I’m the only one who has a problem here. Here I was thinking I was leading her on, when it looks like I was leading myself on.
So how do I fix this without saying goodbye to her yet?
For my own sanity, I need to make sure we don’t have the same level of physicality that I allowed before.
Assuming she wants to keep hanging out. I know what I want—definitely not to part ways tonight and never speak again—but I have to leave this up to Avery.
I take a deep breath. “Even so, I was out of line. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
“So you didn’t want to kiss me?” Her eyes fly wide, and she looks as surprised as I am by her bold question.
I can’t help but chuckle. “No, I wanted to kiss you.” Her answering blush is a reward I don’t deserve, but I treasure it. “Still do. But maybe we…” I can’t bring myself to say the rest of that sentence, no matter that I should.
“Hold off on that?” she finishes for me.
“Yeah, that.” But now I’m fixated on the idea of kissing, and my eyes slide to her lips.
She smiles, making herself more tempting. “It’s probably a good thing if we don’t kiss. I don’t think you could handle it.”
I force my gaze back to her eyes and find laughter in them. “Meaning what?” And why do I feel like she’s feeding one of my usual lines back to me?
Her smile shifting into a smirk, she pulls out another piece of chocolate and says, “Meaning I’m just that good,” before placing the chocolate on her tongue.
If not for that chocolate, I would kiss her right now and show her exactly what I can handle.
At the same time, she might be right. This woman is a magnet, and kissing her would pull me in and leave me locked to her side for as long as possible.
The thought of kissing her is tempting enough that I almost don’t care that I would leave Italy with a hole in my chest.
I’ve never held on to anything like that in my life.
What has Avery done to me?
I clear my throat and stand. Distance . “Now that we’ve cleared that up, I need to buy you a cannoli because I still cannot believe you’ve never tried one. So we’re going out.” That is the opposite of distance, Benson!
Glancing at her chocolate, Avery gets to her feet and plants herself directly in front of me, her chin raised and a defiant look in her eyes. “No. I’m going to buy my own cannoli.”
Is this her telling me that she doesn’t want to keep hanging out? If it is, good for her. But I don’t like it. “Of course you can buy your own cannoli. You can do whatever you want to.”
“Yes I can. And I’m going to buy my own cannoli. But you can come with me if you’d like.”
Smiling easily for the first time since leaving her at the cathedral, I hold my hand out to her and feel something fall into place when her fingers lace with mine.
I wasn’t supposed to hold her hand. That was half the point of this conversation, but I can’t not hold her hand.
It’s dark out. She could get lost among the other tourists exploring the city.
It hasn’t bothered her before now, so it won’t bother her going forward.
As we make our way through the lobby and onto the street, I curse my lack of willpower and hold on to her all the more.
I started tonight’s conversation so we could make sure we don’t cross any boundaries, but something tells me we’re going to push those lines until they snap.
Even if she won’t, I sure as hell know I will.
Non vedo l’ora.