Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
D ay two in Florence was one of my worst days of the year. It started with me waking at three in the morning, without any recollection of how I got back to the hotel.
One minute I was lying on the grass at the winery—the next minute, I woke up fully dressed in my own bed.
I assumed it was Roman who’d saved me. Yet again. God only knew what embarrassing things I did as he dragged my sorry ass from the winery to my hotel room.
I spent the whole day fighting a thumping headache that boomed behind my eyes like a giant cannon. And the urge to throw up was so strong that every time we crossed an ancient bridge, I sucked in breaths like I was giving birth or something.
It was all I could do to stop from hurling into the Arno River below. Knowing my luck, I’d probably hit one of the tourist boats cruising beneath.
But that wasn’t even the tip of my worst-day iceberg. I hadn’t seen Roman all day. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem—our tour schedule sometimes meant we didn’t see each other until the night. But not seeing Lydia—that was killing me. I couldn’t get images of the two of them smiling at each other and touching each other out of my memory.
I should be happy for him. Elated.
Instead, I was so fucking jealous, it was a wonder my whole body wasn’t green, especially combined with my hangover. And it was all stupid. We were just friends. God, the number of times I’d said that to myself and yet it still wouldn’t sink in.
Friends. FRIENDS. F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
I needed to get it tattooed onto my hand. Right next to that weird freckle on my thumb.
After dragging twenty-two hyperactive backpackers around Florence and trying not to crumble into a billion quivering pieces as I detailed random facts about the abundant ancient buildings, I finally got back to my room at six o’clock that night.
Still no sighting of Roman nor Lydia.
“They’ve probably been fucking each other’s brains out all day.”
There. I said it. I am happy for him. Just like he’s been happy for me having sex with other guys.
But nope. I was not happy for him. I was angry at Lydia and the relationship she seemed to have with him.
Why did that eat me up so much?
I knew exactly why, and it was pure shit.
I was falling in love, which was also pure shit because I didn’t believe in love.
I need Zali. Grabbing my phone, I flopped onto the bed and keyed a text.
Hey, Z, you awake?
My phone buzzed seconds later.
Yep. Always. I don’t think Kane and Mom know how to sleep anymore
Oh, babe. I’m so sorry
Don’t sweat it. It can only get better. Speaking of better, how’s that sexy driver of yours?
He’s fine
Yeah, so’s the fucking weather. You manage to get him over his ex yet?
Huffing out a sigh, I pressed the FaceTime button.
In a flash, Zali appeared on the screen. “Well, this is nice.” The bags under her eyes were even darker than they’d been the last time I’d seen her.
It was nearly impossible to picture the Zali I’d first met—the one who lit up the room with her smile. The one who prided herself as a beautician and applied all her own techniques on herself. The one who was quick with a laugh and just as quick with a shoulder to cry on.
Now it looked like she needed a permanent shoulder to cry on.
“How are you going? How’s Kane’s teething and your mother?”
“Well, let’s start with me. I feel like I need to book myself into a beauty salon for a year to catch up on my treatments. Hell, my fucking pubes are so long I can braid them.”
I burst out laughing.
“It’s true. Wanna see?”
“No!”
“I’m telling you; I never knew pubes could get so fucking long. How do those female scientists in Antarctica do it? I mean, it’s too freaking cold to shower there. They must have bushes down to their ankles.”
Chuckling, I said, “Maybe they use it for warmth.”
Zali clicked her fingers. “Oh yeah, like their own personal blanket.”
We burst into fits of giggles and damn it felt good. Zali was the best friend ever. Within two seconds of chatting with her, I’d forgotten all about me and my stupid problems. “And your mom, how is she?”
“She’s good. She’s moved on from the dog biscuits but now she’s found the spaghetti. She can chomp on those sticks for hours. I figure as long as she doesn’t spear her larynx, she’ll be fine.”
She laughed and I joined her. “And Kane?”
She rolled her eyes. “I swear he’s doubling in size every few months. At this rate, he’ll be bigger than his father come Christmas.”
When Zali had found out she was pregnant, she’d already passed the three-month mark and by that time, the ‘sperm donor’ had been long gone. During our time on the Sea Dancer, she’d had sex with many guys—cruise ship staff and some passengers. But for some reason, she’d decided that a passenger named Erik was Kane’s father.
Maybe she wanted to believe it was him, given that he was stunningly handsome, had broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and had said he was a pilot. She didn’t even know if Erik was his real name or if he really was a pilot.
But Zali had claimed him as Kane’s father right from the moment she’d decided to keep the baby.
“God, I hope not,” I said. “Wasn’t Erik enormous?”
“Fuck yeah. Built like Mr. Universe. Speaking of Mr. Universe, you hooked up with Roman yet?”
My shoulders slumped. “No.” I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen. I told you that. ”
“Hmmm.” She shifted in her seat, wobbling the image on the screen until she settled. “Okay, tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“You’re always calling me an intuitive freak. So, here’s my freaky summary of what I’m seeing. First up, you only ever FaceTime when something is wrong.”
“That’s not true.”
All she did was cock her head and remain silent, and it was enough to know she was right. “Well, we need to change that. From now on, I’m FaceTiming you as much as I can.”
“Great. Do it. I’ll try to make sure I’m dressed when I answer.”
“Good plan.”
“Dais, I can see that you’re upset about something. What is it, babe? Come on. Tell me.”
“You have enough going?—”
“Stop right there.” She cut me off. “I could be in the middle of a heart attack and I’d still answer the phone for you. When are you going to learn that? We’re best friends, babe. That’s what we do for each other.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I swallowed back a lump in my throat that was the size of my left boob. “I know.” Shit. My voice wobbled.
“Oh, babe.” Zali honed in on my wretched emotions like a truth-seeking missile. “He’s really got to you, hasn’t he?”
My chin dimpled as I nodded.
“Have you told him how you feel?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
She tilted her head and blinked at me. “Why not?”
“I can’t do that. We are not meant to be together. He’s everything I’m not.”
“Dais—”
“Wait, let me finish.”
She nodded, all calm .
“Roman is the most amazing man I’ve ever met. But we’re not meant to be together. He’s in a different time in his life. But that’s the least of my worries, Zali. I’m about to get kicked out of Europe. How could we possibly be together?”
“Well . . . heaps of couples have long-distance relationships.”
“Oh, like that’s going to work.”
“It works for you and me.”
“Not helping.”
“Of course it is. Technology today . . . you can practically fuck each other over the airwaves.”
I huffed. “Anyway, this whole conversation is pointless. He’s got his eyes on Lydia.” I told Zali all about Miss Italy, everything from her dazzling teeth to her brilliant mind.
“Well fuck. You need to stick your boobs in his face and remind him what he’s missing.”
I laughed with her. “It’s not like that.”
“Fuck, babe, you’re acting like he’s a God.”
“He is a God.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Shit, you’ve got it bad.”
“And to top it off, I was so pissed last night I don’t remember getting home.”
“Oh shit. Here we go. And?”
“And nothing. I woke up in my bed. Fully clothed.”
“Fully clothed?”
My shoulders sagged. “Uh-huh.”
“Wow. Every man I know would’ve used it as an excuse to undress me. What’s wrong with him?”
Two obvious reasons came to mind. I voiced the first one, “He’s a gentleman.”
“Yeah right.”
“Or he’s repulsed by me. ”
“He’s not fucking repulsed by you. Oh, babe, you’ve really fallen, haven’t you?”
I nodded again. “What am I going to do?”
She wriggled around on her seat, and after a pause, which was well out of character for her, she said, “The way I see it, you have two options.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Option A. You let Roman know exactly how you feel. Lay your whole fucking heart on the line. If he is a fucking god, you’ll figure a way around it.”
“Okay, and option two?”
“You walk away.”
A groan tumbled from my throat.
“Walk away now before you really are fucked up. Finish your last few months in Europe doing what you’d planned to do . . . find heaps of guys to fuck your brains out.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Well not exactly, but you were on a roll.”
“Yeah.” I sighed a heavy sigh.
“If you’re gonna do that, then you need to commit. Full-on go for it. Hook Roman up with that other chick and get him out of your brain. Then you get back on that fucking horse and get yourself laid. Just pretend Roman is me.”
“Pfft. Nobody is like you.”
“Yeah. I know that.” She bulged her eyes. “But I mean, pretend he’s just a friend, and your job is to hook him up with anybody else but you. Or . . .” Her eyes bulged even more. “Or there is an option C—you fuck his brains out, but the whole time remind yourself that it means nothing. Just sex.”
I groaned again. “Not sure I can do that.”
“Ahhh. Pity. Okay then, so it’s option A or option B.”
I wasn’t sure I could fully open my heart again. William had already fed my heart into a shredder, and I was only just putting the last pieces together. But it was too late—Roman had entered my heart already and I was going to implode. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need to sleep on it.”
“Okay, babe. I’m here for you. Call me anytime. I mean it—any time. Love ya, babe.”
“Love you too. Thanks for the chat.” After hanging up the call, I put my phone on to charge and crawled into bed.
As I closed my eyes, Roman flashed across my mind—beautiful images of the sun glistening in his eyes, of him dancing and moving his hips to the energetic beat. Of him rubbing my leg when I was crippled with period pain. And then there was his smile, the one that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
“Oh, Roman.”
He’d not only entered my heart—he’d entered my soul too.