chapter NINE
I can’t believe Leah is sick. Like, honest-to-goodness sick. This morning she woke up with some sort of food poisoning slash stomach bug slash I don’t know what.
At first, I thought this was her way of getting me alone with Asher again.
Last night, she was crazy excited about what he might have planned for us.
She loves surprises. And she didn’t seem to mind that we’d be spending Luke’s birthday with a stranger, and she didn’t seem too concerned with what Adam might say about our hanging out with him.
Then when she woke up she started grumbling about how she doesn’t feel good. But this is Leah we’re talking about: she has lied in the past about being sick.
I now know she is not lying. She is locked inside the bathroom and the sounds coming from that room are far from human.
“Go without me. There is no reason why you should be cooped up in this room all day too.” Her words are strained and breathy.
“What if something happens to you while I’m gone? You don’t sound so good in there,” I say to her through the bathroom door.
I hear the sound of a toilet flush and then running water. I step back when I hear the click of the door being unlocked. Leah opens it. Her hair is a disheveled mess and her eyes are bloodshot.
“I feel much better. I promise you I’m not going to die while you’re out today.” She is padding her way to the bed. Leah is most definitely out of it. She would never make a death comment around me on an ordinary day.
She climbs back into bed and falls against the pillow. “Spend the day with your boy. I’ll park myself by the pool later on.”
I’m already dressed in white shorts and a canary-colored V-neck, fitted T-shirt; my gold shoes from Asher garnishing my feet. “I feel terrible your vacation is ruined. I’m not leaving you alone to lay in bed alone.”
“Oh, yes you are. You are so going out and enjoying yourself. I’ll feel awful if you miss out on a gorgeous afternoon because of my sick ass.
” She grabs the pillow next to her and stuffs it under the one already under her head.
She sits up a little, elevated. “I’ll be in and out of that bathroom all day. You do not want to be here for that.”
I stand by her bed as I try to decide what I should do.
I hate when people give you an option like this.
Leah says go, but will she secretly resent me for leaving her alone?
Will she throw it in my face later on that I ditched her when she was sick in Italy?
Probably not. Leah’s not like that. But still.
“Oh, for the love of all things holy. Go, Emma. If not for me, do it for McConaughey.” Leah says. “You gotta keep on livin’.”
I leave Leah with everything she needs for a day of being sick.
Her iPad is plugged in. She has the hotel phone on the end table in case of an emergency.
A glass of water and a trashcan are by her side, as well as the remote, a bottle of soda, and her binoculars.
I didn’t really see the use for the spyware, but she wanted them near by.
Leah promised she would contact the front desk if she felt dizzy. I stop by the concierge and place a room service order for her. Even if she didn’t eat, I knew someone would be there to check up on her.
After making arrangements for my sister, I head toward the lobby in anticipation for another day spent with Asher.
As I walk through, I spot the woman I bumped into two days ago.
She is seated in a large wingback chair, reading a magazine.
Her large hat covers her face as bright red nails flip the pages.
I look down at my casual outfit and wonder if I should be wearing more day-dresses like the pretty striped one she has on.
It’s a mix of colors, most of them primary and dark.
I shrug my shoulders and walk out the lobby doors and down the stairs toward the marina.
Asher told me to meet him by the Marina.
Growing up, I never went on boats. Once or twice we went fishing with my uncle on the lake, and there was that family cruise to the Bahamas.
But other than that, I may have been on five boats my entire life.
It’s fascinating I’ve been on six since we landed in Italy, and I have no idea what we’re doing today.
I’m carrying the note Asher left at the hotel.
I really like that he leaves hand written notes.
With the age of cell phones and emails, there is no use for the old paper and pen method.
Then again, I don’t have a phone with me anymore as it’s at the bottom of the ocean.
So, this morning, the concierge handed me a note from Asher with the location I should meet him.
I was also surprised it came with a yellow rose with red tips.
I’m walking along the steps to the Marina Grande, my rose in my hand and the card in the other.
The sun is hot and it’s not even noon. I am just about to step onto the final stair when a body rounds the corner and almost slams into me.
I take a step back and, just when I’m about to be upset, I find myself breaking out into a huge grin.
“I thought I was meeting you at the boat?” I ask, but my words are swallowed up when Asher snakes his hand around my neck and pulls me into a kiss. I don’t know what to do with my hands, but my mouth knows exactly where it needs to be.
When Asher finally pulls away he gives me a kiss on the nose. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
If I had a mirror I’m sure I’d see dimples on my face.
Asher takes the note card from my hand, slides it into his back pocket and grabs my free hand.
He guides me along the marina, and I check out my date for the day.
Leah would say he looks edible and I would agree.
It’s not so much what he’s wearing but the way he wears it.
His navy shorts showcase his strong legs and the polo he has on accentuates the broad shoulders and narrow waist.
“You’re wearing flip flops!” I say, completely surprised. “I thought you hated them.”
He flashes a grin. “I’m doing a lot of things these days I thought I’d never do.”
We walk to the dock where the same boat Asher had the other day is waiting.
“Does Devon mind you taking his boats out all the time? Won’t you get in trouble?” I ask as I climb onto the boat. I turn around and he’s looking at me like I have an orangutan sitting on my head. “What?”
He walks forward and kisses my lips. “Nothing. You’re cute.” Asher must catch my eye roll because he adds, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who hates to be called cute?”
I cringe at the word. Saying a girl is cute is like saying she’s your little sister or some small thing that needs care. I much prefer being called bold, accomplished, or successful. Not cute.
I scrunch my nose and shake my head.
He laughs. “You’re not helping your case.”
I lean my weight onto one foot and give him a stare-down. Asher stops laughing. His tongue skims his lip as he places his arms around my waist and pulls me back into him.
“I take it back. You’re not cute.” His eyes looking directly into mine. “You’re talented. You’re feisty. You’re mesmerizing. You’re captivating. And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life.”
Yeah, those words will do.
With a soft kiss on my neck, he releases me, leaving me breathless and brimming. I set my rose down and watch him untie the boat from the dock. His shirt is clinging to him, showcasing the deep curvature of his muscles and the two divots at the bottom of his back.
I am staring at the perfection that is Asher when he turns around and stops, looking startled. “Wait. Where’s your sister?”
“She’s not coming.”
It must be the thing he wanted to hear because he gives me a smile the size of Ohio.
“Lucky boy,” he says, starting the engine while the boat drifts from the dock.
I take my place, standing in front of the chair I sat in last time.
We’re not going fast at all so I choose to stand up and hold on to the panel in front of me.
I love being on the island of Capri but not as much as I love looking at it.
I know we have “mountains majesty” back home but this place is just surreal.
Asher grabs my arm and pulls me into the spot between his legs and drives holding on to me. This isn’t a lesson in driving like it was the other day. This time, it’s out of pure need to be next to me. I settle in as the boat skips over waves and sea spray mists around us.
The waves and wind in our ears make it hard to hear anything.
That’s okay. I have the intense feeling of Asher behind me, the smell of the sea and the sounds of ocean.
I use the hymn of the humming motor and the sound of it muffling with each crash down on a wave as a down beat in my head.
Soon a chord plays over that and I hear the sounds of my violin.
The chords build up and I internally hear them playing out an amplifier, and then another violin joins in and then another until there is an electronic symphony in my head.
It is exactly the sound I was working on before the accident.
Before I couldn’t play anymore.
Before I couldn’t feel anymore.
I’m torn between feelings of excitement for my breakthrough, or fright for what it could mean, when the boat starts to slow down. So caught up in my own head, I didn’t realize Asher had released me.
I crane my head back to look at him. His gaze is fixed ahead. His face is pensive, lost in thought. I don’t know when the mood changed. I check out my surroundings and see water on all sides of us, the island lost in the distance.
Asher turns off the engine. This should be about the time I wonder if the hot guy I met on vacation is really a murderer who dumps bodies in the middle of the ocean. If that’s the case, I should have a weapon and, unfortunately, all I have is a rose.