Chapter Twenty-Five
Chelsea
Challenge: Take a yoga class vacation
Bas was everywhere.
In my mind. In my heart. In my bed.
I’d laid myself open, confessed my most vulnerable feelings, gave him the power to destroy me emotionally.
And I was okay. We were okay.
He slept beside me, arms tight around me, butt-ass naked. I lay awake, remembering how it felt to give in. Remembering all the words he’d said once we’d professed our love and he lost any filter on his emotions.
Promises. So many promises.
“I’ll never grow tired of you,” he’d said, entering me for the third time last night. And I believed him, because I felt the same way.
“I’ll always love you,” he’d said, falling beside me afterward. And I didn’t believe him, because he couldn’t control that.
In the dark, I wondered what it would mean. Surely, he’d come home. He couldn’t stay here without me now. Done was done, though. I’d stepped off the precipice. The genie wouldn’t go back in the bottle, and I resolved to make my three wishes. Wish number one: let him still love me tomorrow.
I drifted off and woke again to his lips gentle on my shoulders and neck. I rolled over and openly adored him. No wonder people fussed over those three little words. They bound us together in a way I’d never believed possible. It pleased me to tell him, “I love you, Bas.”
And he pleased me. In every way I’d ever dreamed of.
We left for Croatia that morning, moving farther and farther into foreign lands. The cities we drove through blew my mind with their unsurpassed beauty, and the part of me that yearned to travel demanded I take it all in, but the man beside me had become a source of constant discovery on his own, and I couldn’t stop telling him I loved him.
The man who’d become so familiar over the past few months fascinated me like a new country. He was mine, and I was his. Love transformed the experience into something so much deeper. Every country we entered invited us to explore each other like a wonder of the world.
It was too much to ask to keep my hands off him, and when I unzipped him and stroked him somewhere in Slovenia, he found a deserted side street to avoid driving into a tree. I buried him in my mouth as deep as I could, and he dropped his seat back as I ran my tongue up the shaft. I loved the feel of his cock in my hands and against my tongue. I looked up to watch his face agonize, and he watched me wrap my lips around him as I sucked him off.
“You’re so goddamn sexy,” he groaned. “I love you so much, λατρε?α μου.”
He hadn’t called me by that endearment since we’d downgraded our relationship status, not until we got to Venice. Hearing it again made me count my blessings. We’d nearly lost this, but here we were in our second act.
We spent the night in ?ibenik, Croatia, a cute seaside town built on a hill overlooking the Adriatic Sea. The online guidebook told of a medieval fortress, picturesque alleyways, and spectacular views. Any other day, I would have insisted we wind through every nook and cranny, but not even a cliffside castle could tempt me now. The only thing I wanted to see was Bas over me as I clawed his back and drove him over the edge.
We had lost time to make up for.
The next night, in a hotel in hilly Budva, Montenegro, he discovered the vibrator in my suitcase and turned it on with a wicked grin. “Show me.”
I touched it to myself, rolling my hips, and he said, “So goddamn sexy,” as he stroked himself. Then he was in me. When I moved the toy away, he stopped me. “Keep it there.”
He spoiled me constantly.
Now I understood why couples went on honeymoons. I didn’t want to come up for air.
Wish number two: let him still want me tomorrow.
We drove through Albania and entered Greece the next day. Everywhere we’d been, people spoke to Bas in the native language until he’d speak English, as if they expected him to be a local. When we got to Greece, it didn’t surprise me that people addressed Bas in Greek. When he responded in kind, I knew he was home, and my fight might be in vain. But I sneered back at Greece and declared, “Too late. I already won.”
As we headed into mountainous terrain, I could sense Basil’s anxiety. It occurred to me he hadn’t cracked a single dad joke in two days, not since we left Venice. I’d been so lost to the lust of rediscovering his body, I’d somehow stopped being his faithful companion. But I loved him for more than his body, and I wanted him to be happy.
I could hear Dr. Rubin reminding me to communicate, so I asked, “Is anything the matter?”
“No.” His frown didn’t convince me.
“Are you sure? You’ve been a little…” What was the word? He hadn’t been distant or inattentive or anything I could put my finger on. “Not yourself somehow.”
He sighed, looking out the window. “It’s just this has all happened so fast, and I’m afraid to get my hopes up.”
Oh. Yeah, I could relate to the fear, but not his reasoning. “But this didn’t happen that fast. Unless you mean everything since we met in October.”
“No, I mean two days ago, we were still friends. Now…” He took my hand. “I’m glad everything has changed, but Venice was sudden, and I don’t want all this to end just as suddenly.”
I ran my thumb along his, loving the feel of his strong hand in mine. “You know, when you put a teapot on the burner, it doesn’t suddenly whistle. You don’t see the water heating up. It takes time to come to a boil.” There was probably a better metaphor, but he nodded. “October was sudden, how we met, how quickly we became inseparable. But since then, we’ve worked hard to build a foundation, and all this , since Venice, has been simmering for a good while now. I’m glad we took the time to become such good friends.”
“Are you?”
Did he seriously doubt it? “Of course. I love everything about you, Bas. You make me feel seen. I’m safe with you. And I’ll only tell you this once, but I missed your dumb jokes when you went away.”
A smile cracked that mopey facade, and he waved his hand like he was ushering me into this new land. “In that case, are you ready to get your Greek on?”
I dropped my face in my palms. It was my own fault. But I was so glad to have my dorky friend back in the driver’s seat.
“Now your turn,” I prodded. “What do you love about me?”
It was shameless, but he was trapped in the car with me, and I honestly wanted to hear it. I could never understand what he saw in me.
He squeezed my hand. “You feel so good.”
“Uh-uh. Not my body.”
“I’m not talking about your body.” He glanced over with a cheeky grin. “When we first met, I admit that I loved how you made me feel validated, understood. Like you were on my side when nobody else had been. And then, without changing sides, you started to challenge me to become a better version of myself.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “You did the same for me.”
“As I got to know you, I kind of became addicted to your kindness—” At my scoff, he repeated, “Yes, your kindness. You’re thoughtful, funny, a hell of a lot of fun to be with, and I missed your sassy wit when I left. I miss you whenever you’re not beside me.”
I couldn’t believe he thought all of those things about me, and I hadn’t even been pretending.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said.
He shook his head. “It’s never a question of deserving. Love doesn’t work that way.”
Of course it didn’t. My mother had proven that time and again. I felt smug in my good luck. I’d held out for someone better, and look at who I’d found: my perfect companion.
And that night, in a hotel in Ioannina, I was glad to have my sexy lover in my bed.
Bas undressed me slowly, naming every part of my body he wanted to touch, every place he needed to kiss, everything about me he loved.
“Your neck, right here, drives me wild.” He kissed my neck.
“This swell, right here, where your breasts disappear under your sexy, lacy bra.” He slipped my straps down and traced my skin.
“I love how your hips feel in my hands.” He gripped my waist and pulled me close, and his erection pressed against me.
I said, “I fantasize about the first night when you stripped your shirt off in your kitchen.” I tugged the edges, and he helped me pull it off.
I unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down. “And I love to see you completely stripped.”
He returned the favor.
I led him to the bed and pushed him to sit. I put my knees on either side of his hips and eased myself down onto him, straddling his thighs, stomach against stomach, skin on skin, my arms around his neck, his hands spanning my back.
He made my senses come alive. Every inch of his body looked gorgeous, felt sensuous, smelled tantalizing, tasted delicious. And his voice, when he told me he loved me, sounded like the bells of San Marco at sunset.
“Kiss me, Bas.”
“Always,” he said.
Every part of us touched, and I paced myself, wanting to make this moment last for all eternity.
Wish number three: let him stay with me forever.
On Friday, we crossed the breathtaking Rio-Antirrio Bridge onto the Peloponnese peninsula. We’d easily make it to Athens by lunch if we pressed on, but Bas said, “Can we make a side trip?”
As if that hadn’t become my catchphrase since we left Saint-Tropez.
“Of course.” I was exhausted, but Greece was a country I could easily spend a year exploring. I was following our progress as we drove, looking outside as the map came to life. This was my dream come true.
“My dad would kill me if I didn’t see the tomb of Agamemnon.”
“I thought Agamemnon wasn’t real.”
He shot me a smirk. “Or was he?”
“Was he?” I figured I’d find out.
Bas parked outside a little restaurant in Mykines, where we ate moussaka to die for. Even Bas said it was the best he’d had. Then we hiked uphill and back in time, to approximately 1300 B.C. according to the online guide. It was a gorgeous day for exploring the archaeological site of Mycenae, the legendary capital of the Achaeans.
“I should probably read The Iliad ,” I said as we walked through the large doorway into the beehive tomb.
“We could go to Troy one day,” Bas said, as if we had all the time in the world.
“Where’s that?”
He waved vaguely toward the horizon. “Across the Aegean Sea. Present-day Turkey.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit Istanbul.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not today, though.”
It floored me to think how vast this region of the world was. To the north, we could explore Mount Olympus. To the south, the enormous island of Crete. Dozens of smaller islands dotted the Aegean Sea. “I’d love to see Mykonos.”
“We could take a boat over for a day.”
But when? We’d be leaving soon. “I’m gonna have to come back here sometime.”
His eyebrows shot up. “To see Agamemnon?”
I laughed. “I mean, was he ever really here?”
And so went the final moments of our carefree travels as we headed toward our destination—the hotel in Vouliagmeni.
We’d avoided the conversation about whether Bas would remain in Greece now that we were an us . The last time we’d even broached that topic, we’d still been on the other side of this relationship. We’d crossed the Rubicon, and I didn’t know where he started and I ended. I’d never known love could be like this, not for me.
When we made love, he felt like my best friend. And when we strolled around, joking, having fun, he’d touch me in ways that let me know he wanted me like I wanted him.
We’d spent days brushing against each other in public, then snorting with laughter in private.
He made me believe I could unpack my bags and lay down my fears. I knew he wouldn’t let me down. He’d told me I was his home. He had to come back with me.
We’d come a long way in a few days. I felt proud of myself for overcoming years of bad programming and proving I could be vulnerable in more ways than I’d ever believed. I’d unlocked romance.
As we crossed over the Corinth Canal separating the Peloponnese from the Greek mainland, I practice my communication skills, explicitly telling him, “I can’t go home alone.” I needed to know we were together in this. “Promise me you won’t stay here without me.”
I couldn’t even imagine my days waking up in my bed without Bas there to crowd me, challenge me, worship me. It would be unbearable. I’d miss him too much.
“No,” he said with a grin. “We’re in this together now. Οπου κι αν πα?.”
“It’s sexy when you speak Greek. What does it mean?”
“Wherever you go.”
“Yes. Wherever you go.” I sighed, knowing I’d won. “I’m totally going to learn Greek. Teach me more.”
We skirted Athens on our approach to Vouliagmeni, and Bas fell quiet. I figured he was nervous about declining the job. It had to be hard to disappoint his family. I’d seen how important they were. But he’d given it an honest chance. They’d have to see that.
At sunset, we arrived in an area that reminded me of Florida, with palm trees lining the median. Bas turned into a drive beside a huge white hotel perched on a hill above the waterfront. The reds of the early evening sunset tinged the hotel with a pink hue, and the water sparkled in the fading light. I could see the appeal of the location even if I would have preferred to stay in Athens where there were more sites to explore. I’d seen enough water to last me a while.
Still, I had to confess, “You were right. It’s gorgeous here. I can see why you love it.”
I followed Bas into the lobby, where he introduced me to his uncle in English. Bas had taught me a few useful Greek phrases, but I didn’t trust myself at all with them.
Kostas addressed me. “We have a room for you this way.”
I glanced at Bas in confusion, but Kostas had taken my suitcases and walked down the hall. We caught up and allowed him to show me into a lovely room with a view of the water beyond.
“Where are you staying?” I asked Bas.
He rubbed his neck. “Theo Kostas. Chelsea’s my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend. Not wife.” He lifted a scolding eyebrow at us. Neither of us argued, and I moved my suitcases farther into the room.
It wouldn’t matter anyway. We’d be home soon, and then we’d have to figure out our living situation for real. Would Bas move into my house with me?
As I rooted around for a change of clothes, Bas said, “This isn’t going to work. I’d rather get an apartment in Athens. What do you think?”
It was for only a couple of nights, so it seemed silly to go to the trouble. Still. “Yeah. This is bullshit. We’re adults.”
“I need to go sort things out with my uncle anyway. He may have rental properties available in the city. I’ll come find you before dinner.”
I squeezed his hand for courage. “You’ve got this.”
His lower lip disappeared between his teeth, and his eyes looked tired, scared, and sad.
“Then we can start making our plans for the future,” I said, hoping to take the sting out of disappointing his family.
He leaned in for a kiss. “We’ll talk at dinner.”
Then he went to break the news to his uncle. I stretched and considered how to kill the time alone. I hadn’t been away from him in days and days. If I slept, he slept. If I showered, he showered. Or watched. We’d been inseparable.
I checked the time and put my phone on speaker and let it ring while I poked around in my suitcase for something that didn’t look like I’d worn it three times already.
“Chelsea! Where are you?”
“Greece! You got home okay?”
“No. I’m currently in the basement of this nice man I met in Paris. He had a van.” She cackled.
I didn’t laugh. Instead, I switched to video. “Show me your house, E.”
She came on screen with an eye roll. “I’m here, okay?”
Seeing her living room gave me such heartache. “I miss you! I wish you were here.”
“Tell me everything!”
I sat on the bed and filled her in on the past few days. I’d sent her pictures, but we hadn’t talked, and her eyes grew wide as I confided in her how I’d finally taken a leap.
“So yeah. Everything’s been great. He was considering his uncle’s offer, but things have been so perfect between us, he’s promised to go home with me. I do wish we had more time here. It was magical driving down the coast with him.”
“Coming back home is going to be a drag. But we can start planning our next big trip. Maybe Cancun.”
After the places Bas had shown me, I didn’t think Cancun would cut it. I wanted to go to Budapest. To Cyprus. To Prague. “Maybe.”
“I’m glad everything worked out so well, Chelsea, and you finally let down your guard. You deserve someone who puts you first, and he obviously cares about you.”
It had taken me long enough to realize it. “I want to hear all about your solo trip when I get back. Did you have any fun without me?”
“We have a ton to discuss. You want to have a girls’ night on Sunday and catch up?”
“I’ll bring the wine.”
“Love you, Chels. Have a great last weekend in Greece.”
“Love you, too, E. See you soon!”
I clicked off and took my time getting ready, putting on makeup and styling my hair until I’d be irresistible to Bas.
When he came to find me, his eyes popped. “Wow. Do we have to go out?”
“Tsk. I’m just your girlfriend.”
“You are, aren’t you?” He grinned. “I can’t get used to that.”
I’d never had any use for labels in the past, but I got it now. I loved the security in laying claim, publicly calling Bas mine.
“Get used to it.”
He kissed me. “I hope you’ll feel the same way tomorrow.”
“You mean next week?” I couldn’t blame him for doubting that I’d want to continue our relationship such as it was when we got home, but I’d meant it when I’d said he was it for me. “I will.”
He straightened up and put on his best I-mean-business expression. “Come with me.”
We returned to the lobby. He led me through the restaurant to the kitchen where chefs bustled around stainless steel workstations. Water boiled in pots on the stove, and meat turned on a spit. The room smelled like heaven.
“Look at this kitchen.”
“Yeah.” It was much bigger than the one at the grocery store. “It’s huge.”
“It’s limitless.”
I looked around. “It’s not limitless, but it’s definitely impressive.”
“Better than the tiny market restaurant.” He slid his arms around my waist. “Remember when I cooked for you there?”
“That was like our first date.”
It seemed like ages ago. I’d been so up in my head at the time, I’d fought against even the slightest warmth from him. And here we were now, a world away, in a restaurant that had been merely an idea. My gut twisted as I recalled how a naive, unromantic Chelsea urged him to move here, take the job, go on an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe all that mythology had me thinking of fate, and a part of me whispered that I should let him go so he could be the great chef he was destined to become.
But I was selfish. He belonged to me now, and I wasn’t leaving here without him.
“Wait until you try the food.” He took my hand, grinning, and the twinge of guilt for asking him to give this up redoubled. If he could find a restaurant like this closer to home, it would be perfect.
We sat on the terrace, and as I opened the menu, Bas said, “There’s so much fresh seafood around here. Look at all these options.”
His excitement over the menu didn’t betray any hint of sadness about walking away. Something felt off.
I frowned at the indecipherable words. The first line read Σολο μ ??. “What is that?”
“Salmon.”
I gave up and dropped the menu on the table. “You order for me.”
He spoke to the waiter, but I didn’t understand anything. Normally, Bas speaking Greek might have made me swoon, but I was irritated at how relaxed and integrated he behaved. It made me feel cut off and gave me a bad feeling about the place, like the hotel was still my rival.
He poured me a glass of wine. “It’s funny, you know. Nothing has gone as I expected for the past few weeks.”
“No?” I smiled nervously.
“No. I thought I’d come here and hate it. Or maybe you’d hate it here. And either I’d stay here without you, or I’d go back to Virginia and pour my soul into searching for another job. Or worse, that you and I would go back to the status quo.”
“We can’t go back to the status quo.”
“No.” He scratched his chin absently. “I never let myself dream of everything falling into place so neatly.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve always said you wanted to go on vacation and then just stay, right?”
The blood drained from my head. “You’re not coming home.” It came out flat. His giddiness about the restaurant suddenly made perfect sense. He wasn’t sad, because he wasn’t giving anything up. “You’re staying.”
“I’m hoping we will be staying here. It’s a huge opportunity. You’ve seen the restaurant, and look at this place.”
I stared at the water. Boats sailed out, heading somewhere different. People on those boats had plans that didn’t matter to me. I didn’t matter to them.
“Talk to me.” He leaned toward me, and I focused on taking long, slow breaths, hoping I wouldn’t pass out. “Chelsea?”
“You expect me to just move to Greece?” My voice sounded far away, and I bit my lip to stop it from quivering. I should’ve known this was too good to be true. Everyone always let me down eventually. Everyone but Elizabeth. “You went and made this decision without even asking me?”
“I don’t understand.” He shook his head. “When I asked about renting a place in Athens, you didn’t seem to object.”
“For the weekend. Not forever.” I fought back tears.
He pressed his lips together. “I thought you’d be a little happier about this.”
“Happy? That you unilaterally made plans for our future?” I folded my arms, searching my memory for all the clues I’d missed. I thought I’d been in control, but he’d played me to perfection to get everything he wanted. Or had I been deceiving myself?
“Come on, Chels. You always talk about wanting to see the world, to immerse yourself in culture. Think about how close we are to everything. Turkey is a boat ride away. Remember those beautiful towns in Croatia? Just a day’s drive from here. Your graphic design work can be done anywhere. And I can finally be the chef you’ve been pushing me to become since we met.”
“Those are arguments you might have made yesterday or the day before. How did any of that lead you to think I’d drop everything and move here to be with you?”
“Just today, you made me promise I wouldn’t stay here without you,” he said, with some impatience. And I had, but it was like a wish on a monkey’s paw, the way he’d twisted my words around.
“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.” At his look of confusion, I clarified, “I wanted you to promise you wouldn’t stay at all.”
He sniffed, like I was the one making irrational demands. “You told me you wouldn’t go home alone,” he said, with more pleading in his voice.
I could hear how both of us misconstrued each other’s meaning, but I wasn’t in the mood to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I wanted you to come home with me .”
“And I’m asking you to stay with me.” He reached across the table toward me. “You can take your time. You could go home and make up your mind.”
“I can take my time? Wow.”
“Come on, Chelsea. Just think about it.”
“And if I said no? Would you go home with me?” He didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought.” I stood. “You’re choosing Greece over me.”
“Did you hear me? I’m not choosing. I want you both.”
“Well, you might have to.” I dropped my napkin on my plate. “I’m not hungry after all.”
I went back to my room. Not our room, because Greece had already sorted us as if it knew it would want to spit me out. Bas could have all of this. Greece didn’t want me. And without Greece, Bas didn’t want me, either. How could he expect me to change my entire life without so much as a conversation first?
How could he claim to love me if he was so quick to let me walk away?