Chapter 32
Holland
Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her into the fountain. That was probably not the best thing to do. I’m man enough to admit my wrongdoings. However, I wasn’t exactly thinking when I did it.
She just looked so hot while she argued with me and I was so fucking turned on that I needed to get her away from me before I took her right there in front of everyone. It was like I couldn’t control myself. She was there and I saw the fountain and my brain said ‘push her’, so I did.
Looking back at it, that was probably a mistake. Okay, it was a mistake. Except, the way she’s looking at me as we walk toward the Spanish Steps is making me think it wasn’t. How can she be so fucking sexy when she’s this pissed off?
Lainey squelches with every step as she stomps angrily beside me.
Swallowing my pride, I decide that apologizing might be the best course of action here.
“Look, Barkley. I-”
“Seriously, are you twelve?” she hisses.
“You look great, by the way,” I say with a shrug, walking backwards with my hands in my pockets so I can face her. “Really makes your eyes pop.”
“I hate you,” she spits, but I know she doesn’t mean it.
Gwen links arms with Lainey while hiding her laughter behind her hand. “You two are exhausting,” she says. “And also, possibly in love. Or hate. It’s hard to tell,” she whispers so no one else but us can hear.
“I vote hate,” Lainey mutters quietly, wringing out her hair.
“Sure,” Ryker scoffs. Lainey shoots him a death glare.
“Do you want to be next in the fountain, groomzilla?”
Ryker raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Truce.”
Honestly, this is too much fun. Why apologize when I can get her all worked up?
Leaning over to Gwen, under my breath, I say, “For the record, she started it.”
Gwen rolls her eyes. “You literally pushed her into a public fountain.”
“Details.”
“Alright, can we head back now? I’m starving,” Mason calls out.
“Shut up!” we all say in unison.
“Damn, guys. Chill,” he says.
As we all make our way back to the train station, everyone is looking around at the sights and famous landmarks, but I can’t keep my eyes off of Lainey.
Lainey hasn’t spoken to me since we arrived back at the hotel. I guess I can’t really blame her, but I did think she’d be over it by now. There’s no way she’s actually still pissed about it. She’s just trying to prove a point.
I’m not going to let her be pissed at me anymore, though. She’s had enough time to stew in her anger, but it’s been long enough.
As I stand outside her hotel room door, I take one final deep breath before knocking on the door. She may be extremely sexy when she’s angry, but she still kind of scares me.
“Gwen, if you brought another espresso martini, I swear I—”
“It’s not Gwen,” I call back, chuckling quietly. “Let me in.”
I hear her pause just behind the door before she opens it halfway, only to find me leaning in the doorway. Her eyes narrow.
She’s changed into a soft rust-colored slip dress, her bare shoulders kissed with sun, but her jaw is tight.
“Come to shove me into another body of water?” she asks coolly.
“Not unless there’s a pool in this room.”
“Then why are you here?”
I step forward, causing Lainey to take a step back. “To call a truce.”
She arches a brow, arms crossed. “Really? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here.”
I take a step closer, entering her space. She doesn’t move this time, and I can hear her breath catch as she watches me.
“Come on, Bug. Forgive me,” I plead. She rolls her eyes.
“Why should I?” she asks, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
Reaching up, I play with the thin strap of her dress on her shoulder. Her pulse is racing, and her face is flush. I know she’s having just as much trouble as I am trying to control her urges. She wants to give in.
“Because…” I start, leaning down so that I’m next to her ear. “I’ll give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had if you do,” I whisper.
Her body stiffens in response. My hand traces down her arm, to her side, and down her thigh, landing on the hem of her dress. I begin to pull it up slightly, but before I can get too far, we’re interrupted.
“Dinner’s in ten…” Gwen stutters softly, looking between the two of us before fleeing the crime scene.
“Shit,” Lainey grits out, turning back into the room. I follow her in, watching as she grabs her small purse off the bed and applies lipstick in the mirror.
“Should we be worried she’s going to tell Ellie?” I ask. I mean, I’m not really worried about it. If Ellie finds out, so fucking what.
Lainey shakes her head, putting the lipstick back in her purse and walking toward the door.
“No, she won’t say anything. Let’s just… go to dinner,” she says, walking out of the room.
Just like that, I’m left standing alone.
A while later, we all sit at a long stone table stretched under a canopy of vines and hanging lights, the soft glow reflecting off half-filled wine glasses and polished plates.
Lainey sits across from me, our eyes meeting every once in a while. The tension between us is palpable, and right now I’m wishing more than anything that we weren’t sitting at a table right now full of our friends.
“I’m just saying,” Ryker says, waving a forkful of pasta. “If anyone was gonna cause an international incident on this trip, it was gonna be Holland.”
I raise my glass. “Thank you. I take that as a compliment.”
Gwen smirks from Ryker’s side. “Oh please, Lainey has been just as chaotic lately.”
Lainey’s jaw ticks.
“I’m sorry. I’m not the one who made a scene at the Trevi Fountain.” She takes a sip of wine before crossing her arms.
“You’re the one who got thrown into the Trevi Fountain,” Mason adds, grinning. “Which was honestly iconic.”
“I didn’t get thrown; I was—”
“Gently placed,” I interrupt, swirling my wine. “Like a water nymph returning to her natural habitat.”
Lainey glares at me from across the table.
“I hope you choke on your gnocchi.”
“These gnocchi?” I poke one with a fork and hold it up dramatically. “Lainey. You wound me.”
The whole table cracks up, except for Lainey, who sips her wine with the same energy someone might use to sharpen a knife.
Beside her, Gwen leans in and whispers, “You know you two are the show, right?”
“What show?” Lainey asks, feigning innocence.
“The hot-mess enemies-to-lovers slow burn.”
“Gwen, we’re not-”
“Okay! Group toast before dessert,” Gwen announces, standing abruptly with her wine glass in hand.
Everyone gets quiet as Ryker joins her.
“To all of you, our chosen family. Thank you for making this the most beautiful week of our lives. And to Italy—for the pasta, the wine, and the extremely entertaining drama.”
Cheers erupt around the table. My eyes meet Lainey’s as we raise our glasses. When we sit back down, my foot brushes lightly against hers, and she sips on her wine slowly, almost…seductively.
I don’t care what she says. She might be scared of love, or getting close to people, but I am determined to make her realize that she is supposed to be with me. I’m determined to make this work, even if it’s the last thing I do.