Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Because I could never be with a popstar.
I have my own career and direction in life.
I’m never going to be able to follow a man around the world.
Obviously, I’m getting ahead of myself, he probably isn’t interested in that either.
And yet, I can’t scramble the words together to explain that to Hattie. “He lives miles away.”
“Well, why are you planning your futures together anyway? Stop looking so far ahead, you weirdo. Why not just see how the night goes?”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“I know. That’s why you’re so brilliant.
But maybe it’s what you need? Remember at uni when you would say, When I graduate, I’m going to quit drinking, get a kickass job and work my arse off to get the life I want?
And that would be your reasoning for going wild while you could? While you were free?”
“I never said kickass. But yes. Sort of.”
“Use this holiday to do the same. Use the time. Why not?”
Why not, indeed. I want her to be right. There’s an exhilarating buzz building under my skin as if I’ve just turned a key in a certain part of me. The reckless part. The person who wouldn’t think twice about taking what she wanted.
I sigh. “I’m putting on you on video call. Can you tell me if this dress is too slutty?”
“No. It’s fine.”
“You haven’t seen it yet.”
“I miss slutty Sara, so I think it sounds great.”
After mustering up the confidence to wear a little black dress to dinner, I finish my hair and makeup only to turn around three times on the way to the upper deck.
This is silly, I know.
But I’m so nervous.
It’s wildly out of character for me and it’s doing weird things to my body.
The nerves in my stomach reach a crescendo by the time I walk into the restaurant.
I have to keep reminding myself to calm down.
The hostess offers me a warm greeting and seats me by the window, where I can enjoy the gorgeous backdrop of the Italian coastline at sunset.
It’s stunning. The lights of the nearby towns twinkle against the silhouette of the mountains behind it.
I’m picking at a warm bread roll when he walks in.
I don’t think he spots me right away. He’s dressed smart, in a loose fitted shirt only partly buttoned up, sleeves rolled at his elbows and light chinos, his hair once again combed back and gelled in place. It makes him look like a movie star.
I swallow down a sip of wine and savour the taste of it on my tongue.
He’s also seated alone.
I try not to look his way but he’s right in my line of sight in the middle of the restaurant. I could quickly swap so I’m facing the other way, but I think if I stand right now, he’ll spot me and then it would be too obvious.
And besides, I’m hardly trying to avoid him. It’s just these weird nervous jitters that have me on edge.
My starter of soup is served and when the waitress walks away again, I find him staring across the room at me. He grins. I bite my bottom lip and take a deep breath.
He mouths something but I can’t work out what, so I shake my head.
He mouths it again. I think he says, “What are you having?”
I glance at the bowl and assume it’s obvious, mouthing back, “Soup.”
He reads his menu. I take a spoonful and close my eyes because this isn’t just soup – this is yacht-cruising, five-star, luxury soup, and it might have just ruined all other soups for me, forever. I stifle a groan, covering my mouth.
I feel his smile before I even look. “Good?” he mouths.
I nod, eyes wide. “So good.”
“That does it,” I think he says before flagging down a waiter. Five seconds later, he’s stood next to my table. “Please let me sit with you. I can’t bear not to hear your unfettered thoughts on the food.”
“What if I’m enjoying my own company?” I ask innocently.
“You’re a liar. You think I’m hilarious.”
“I think you’ve confused me with someone else.”
“Sara, I’ll increase the interest I’m paying you if you don’t let me sit with you.”
I snort. “You’re threatening to pay me more money if I don’t want your company? That’s a bizarre threat.”
“I’m thinking three thousand per cent.”
“Gah. Fine. Sit down,” I say, feigning disinterest.
He takes a seat and rearranges his napkin. “It may be that I am suffering from trauma bonding, but I really missed you this afternoon.”
“It’s been six hours,” I say – mouth full of another spoonful of the soup sent from heaven.
“I know but nobody was mean to me. Nobody rolled their eyes at me. Not even a single jab.”
“Sounds awful,” I say, trying not to smile.
He leans forward whispering, “I’m not sorry we missed the cruise.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why? Because you got to see Naples and Pompeii?”
He smirks. “Yes, Sara. That’s why.”
“Well, I don’t regret it either,” I agree, nodding.
“Oh yeah?” His whole face lights up, hopeful.
“Of course. I met Cole Devaney.”
His sudden laughter makes the woman behind him jump. He twists and apologises. She clearly has no idea who he is because she simply looks offended.
The waiting staff are quick to synchronise our meals.
Once Gus has finished his soup we’re served our fish dish.
We talk about our favourite parts of the trip so far.
I admit I’m missing Roko and his pet dolphin.
Gus wonders if the polo he signed for the taxi driver ever made it back to the daughter and whether she was grateful or furious her dad only got Gus to sign his sweaty polo.
I drink slowly, careful not to let myself fall into the same trap as my first evening. A small lump starts to build in my throat at the thought of it. Gus must catch onto my sudden change in mood because he asks, “What’s on your mind?”
I blink, lifting my shoulders protectively. “Oh, nothing,” I say, trying to brush it away.
“Hey. Come on,” he says. “I’m hardly going to judge.”
“I’m thinking about the first night. How it felt. That’s never happened to me before. I felt out of control.” Gus nods but doesn’t speak. “I’m sorry you had to rescue me that night,” I say.
He frowns, tilting his head. “I’m sorry you were upset. I’m not sorry I found you. I’m glad I could help.”
“It seemed like you’d dealt with that sort of thing before.”
He nods. “Oh yeah. Panic attacks all over the place in my industry. You wouldn’t believe it.”
“I think I could surmise, considering the things you’ve told me.”
“As the concerts got bigger, as my fame grew, the pressure took a lot of getting used to. I used to get panic attacks in the middle of the night. The fear of letting people down, the fear of dropping the ball on the rest of the band, it reaches you when the world is silent. I’d have nightmares for days about forgetting to put clothes on and being rushed straight up onto the stage. ”
“That’s a classic.”
He laughs, that gorgeous smoky sound. “It’s usually just in front of the class though, right? Not Wembley Stadium with eighty-thousand people laughing at you.”
I cringe. “Aww. Were they laughing?”
“Shut up,” he says, sweetly, that vivid glint in his eye. “I’m trying to make you feel better. And yet, here you are, throwing it in my face.”
“You love it.”
He shrugs like it’s a given. His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he takes another sip of wine, watching me like I’m his personal evening entertainment. My eyes snag on that shape in his throat as he swallows. It feels like every girl has a weird thing they like in a man. Mine is the throat.
Call me a vampire. I don’t care.
I bite my lip, unsure where to go from there. Between talking and eating, we take so long, the restaurant is almost clear, the music louder, the lights low, once we’re finishing up. Gus suggests we stroll the top deck and take in the views.
As we reach the doors, we take our shoes off as instructed.
We stroll slowly, doing a perimeter, the smooth, cool decking under our bare feet, bumping into each other gently as we drift closer.
We don’t bother putting our shoes back on as we head to my room, Gus insisting on walking me back.
Other than a few guests ambling at the bar still, the cruise has gone silent, the guests preparing for another busy day of sightseeing in Portofino. Which reminds me…
“I’m booked on the food and wine tour tomorrow.”
Gus leans on the wall outside my door. “That sounds incredible.”
“I certainly think so. Are you booked onto anything?”
He shakes his head, lips pressed together. “I came back to about a million messages. My team are stressed about a few events I have coming up. So I promised to do some things for them tomorrow.”
Disappointment laces my veins, and I want to slap myself for it. “I’m sorry you have to work.”
I’m sorry I have to go on a dumb tour without you.
He reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ears, his fingers lingering. I drift a step closer, inviting. I relish the way my nerves feel whenever he touches me. He sucks in a breath, dropping his hand.
I can smell the red wine on his lips. I want to taste it too. The thought rushes down my spine and pools somewhere deep and wanting.
“Nope. Your move, remember?” he says, voice low. He blinks quickly, leaning back. I bite my tongue. “I’m sorry about tomorrow. But I know Monaco well. Can I take you on a personal tour?”
I swallow, righting myself and taking hold of my bedroom door. I want to say something witty, keep him on his toes but my brain isn’t firing at all. So, I nod dumbly, then nearly fall into my room as I lean into the door and it opens faster than expected.
Gus reaches out to grab me but I right myself quickly.
“Balls,” I hiss.
“You ok?” he asks, humour lacing his tone.
“Good night,” I whisper, conscious of the other guests sleeping.
He winks. “Sleep tight, sunshine.”