We relax into silence as we continue to take in the scenery and ever-changing sunset. Alex’s hand covers mine as we go through a low-clearance tunnel.
“This is really cool,” he whispers, I assume to keep his voice from echoing off the stone.
“It really is,” I reply, and he squeezes my hand. We come out the other side to find a duck swimming beside us. I look to Alex to make sure he sees it but find his eyes already on me. His breathing is accelerated, and as if he’s moving in slow motion, he leans in as he raises his other hand to cup my cheek.
“Ivy. You’re … I’ve never felt …” He rests his forehead on mine, and I feel his breath as it mingles with mine. I feel like I’m being sucked into a tornado. Totally helpless. That is until I feel the ghost of his lips on mine, and I jerk back.
“I’m so sorry,” he says before I can sort through my feelings. Do I want to kiss him? Yes, of course I do. But is it going to begood for me, for him, long-term? No. It will just make things harder.
“Alex, you’re not acting like this is pretend. It’s like you forgot what we talked about.” I glance up at the gondolier, thankful for the long boat and the fact that he has kept his back to us for most of the float.
“I didn’t. Believe me, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I got carried away with how right it felt to …” He sighs. “At the risk of sounding corny, I think I got caught up in the romance. I mean, you have to admit, this is perfect for a kiss. For a real couple, I suppose.”
Did his accent just get stronger? It’s like he’s in a frenzy and any accent he may have lost while living in the States came back full force.
“You’re not wrong. And I understand. I got caught up in it too. But, Alex, it would make it so much harder when we go our separate ways. You know it would.”
“It’s gonna be hard for me either way.” His voice is nearly a whisper, but I hear it loud and clear.
I take his hand. “We don’t have to keep doing this if it’s too hard.”
“No. I want to keep doing this. I want any time with you that I can get.”
“Even if it’s pretend?”
He runs his thumb along the back of my hand. “Yes.”
“Okay, then.” And then, I don’t know what comes over me, or if it’s a good thing or not, but I lean over and kiss him slowly on the cheek.
29
Alexander
IcanstillfeelIvy’s lips on my cheek. I’m certain she didn’t mean to, but that tiny kiss made things a thousand times harder for me. As much as I hate it, I’m glad she stopped me when I lost my better sense and tried to kiss her. I don’t want to ruin this, and I think a kiss would have done just that.
Her lips on my cheek, though? I don’t know when I’ll be able to push it aside and stop wishing for more.
The clerk at the inn we are staying at, a tiny woman with short silver curls, hands us our keys with a grin. She’d recognized me and hadn’t said anything, but it seemed she could no longer hold in her comments.
“I’ll never forget the first film I saw you in. I said to my friend, ‘He’s quite tidy, isn’t he?’” She giggles. Giggles. Like aschoolgirl. This is already in the top ten percent of my favorite fan interactions.
I grin. “I appreciate that. I hope you enjoyed the film.”
“Ah. I’ve enjoyed all your films.” She waves her hands, sort of shooing us away. “I’ve taken up too much of your time. You guys enjoy your stay.”
“I’m sure we will. Thank you.” I extend my hand to her. “And it was a pleasure to meet you.”
“No, lad. The pleasure is all mine.”
We’re walking toward the stairs and our second-floor rooms, when Ivy leans in and whispers. “Did she just call you tidy?”
The next morning, I knock on Ivy’s door. I texted her, but she hasn’t responded. I don’t want the breakfast in my hands to get cold.
She opens the door, and I am not prepared. Not in the least. Her eyes are half closed, an endearing grumpiness emanating from her pajamas. A black, pink-flamingo-covered tank top with matching hot pink short shorts. And as exciting as that entire situation is, it’s, once again, her hair that draws the eye.
It’s like she’s been electrocuted. I cannot express how much I love the look. She must notice my particular attention to her hair because she deepens her scowl.
“Alex,” she says in a tone that tells me I’m about to get scolded. That makes me smile in a way that I’m certain won’t help. “It is eight-thirty. I’m still not adjusted to this time. Why on earth didn't you just wait for me to message you?”
