He smiled, looking very relieved to find I wasn’t pining for him. Miserable arse.
“I have an idea though,” he continued. “You hate going on these double dates with Katerina and Massimo, but you’re spending the rest of your husband-hunting time cooped up with me.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked.
“What if we plan a beach trip instead? I can invite a few people and Massimo knows a ton of lads. You’ll have all the men to choose from, with none of the pressure of a formal date.”
I groaned. “I don’t want everyone knowing what’s going on though. I swear Katerina’s already told half the village I’m trying to find a lover.”
He grinned at my use of the word lover, but then quickly tried to hide it. “No, no. It’ll just be a natural day at the beach with a few of our friends. If you happen to meet someone to smash, that’s great.”
“Thank you for the delicate phrasing, Gianluca.”
“That’s what you need isn’t it? A proper lay?”
“I’ll have you know that I have no problem in the bedding department. Males are practically clawing at each other to get to me.”
“Those are just the boat cats trying to nick a bit more croissant from you.”
“Could we please end this conversation?”
He leaned over the counter so I was forced to meet his eyes. “It’ll be fun, and if you don’t meet any decent men, you can just hang out at the beach with me.”
My stomach dipped.
“What a miserable afternoon that would be.”
He grinned. I reluctantly agreed and we got to work planning it all out right then. We decided it would be best to cut off work early that Friday and go as soon as Katerina could close up shop.
He relayed the information to Massimo and I told Katerina. Everyone was excited about it, but the sad thing was, the closer it got to Friday, the more I hoped he and Massimo wouldn’t find any decent men to invite. Why? Because if there weren’t any good guys at the beach, that would mean I could stick close to Gianluca.
The moment I had that thought was the exact moment I became the most pathetic sap in the whole of Italy.
How do you say loser in Italian? Georgie bloody Archibald.
MY CRUSH ON Gianluca reminded me of the sort I used to have in grade school. It was a quiet, volatile sort of infatuation, the kind rooted mostly in fantasy and lifelike dreams. I’d wake up in my hotel room in a cold sweat and press my hand to the back of my mouth or adjust my twisted pajama bottoms and admonish myself. It was 2:14 AM. 3:37 AM. 1:03 AM. Gianluca wasn’t in love with me, just like he hadn’t been in love with me the night before. Sure, in my dream he’d just stripped me down to nothing and bent me like a pretzel, but in real life, he still hated me. Also, in real life, I was nowhere near flexible enough for that.
I knew my crush could have been chalked up to lust or it could have meant a whole lot more, but so much of it took place in my head that I couldn’t be sure what was real and what was fiction. To me, Gianluca was the sun. My days revolved around him, but when I took a step back, it felt so silly, like I was lusting after one of my brother’s older friends. That had happened a few times growing up, and it had always ended the same. They’d laugh and nudge my shoulder or, god forbid, pat my head and tell me they thought I was a sweet girl, that one day, when I grew up, I’d find someone better suited for me.
I dreaded the moment Gianluca would pat my head with a sad little smile. “How could you have been so silly as to have fallen in love with me? I told you I was unavailable. I told you I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and even if I was ready, I wouldn’t fall in love with you, Georgie. Come on, of course it couldn’t be you.”
My brain could be quite cruel about it, so I tried not to mull over my silly crush too often. Besides, it was just that: a crush. Easy to tuck away and think about when I was back in my hotel room, reading by my window and staring up at his villa shining in the moonlight. I meant what I’d told him about it being the best piece of property in Vernazza. It sat up on top of the hill overlooking the square, close enough that I could see its tan paint and dark green shutters but far enough away that he could have a bit of peace and quiet. It was best for the tourists to keep him up there, as well—less chance of his grumpy energy spoiling their suppers.
There was only ever one light on at night: a hazy yellow glow from the top right window—his bedroom, I assumed.
I never talked about my feelings for Gianluca with Katerina, not after that night she’d informed me that every girl with a pulse had fancied him at one point or another. Even still, she was suspicious of me, especially when I informed her that Gianluca and I were planning the beach trip.
“You and Gianluca?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
“You guys have been spending a ton of time together, more than me and Massimo even.”
“Which is why we want to go to the beach. We’ll probably kill each other if we stay cooped up in that bed and breakfast for much longer.”
“And you don’t think it’s weird that the first friend Luca has made in years happens to be a beautiful girl?”
I looked away. “No more weird than you and me becoming friends.”
She barked out a laugh like I was being utterly ridiculous. “Let’s just say I don’t look like Gianluca when I take my shirt off.”
I ignored her, but she continued.