We landed in Naples hours ago, and as I sit on my hotel bed, all I can think about is Holland’s hands on my body. How his lips tasted like mint and a little salty from sweat. How his strong chest felt against mine.
I keep finding myself tracing my lips, remembering the way his felt as he kissed me so deeply, so needy. It’s like he’s been wanting to do that forever.
I was only trying to distract him from his panic attack, but it felt like a lot more than that if I’m being completely honest. It felt like an explosion.
Not in a destructive kind of way, but in a ‘holy shit, this is really happening and it’s freaking amazing’ kind of way. You know what I mean?
The kiss was hot, it was passionate, it was sexy, and it was only supposed to be a quick distraction. It turned into so much more so quickly and I didn’t have the will to stop it. In fact, I would’ve probably gone further if Mason didn’t interrupt.
In hindsight, it’s probably best that nothing else happened. I already feel guilty about kissing my best friend’s brother. I can’t go and fuck him too, even though after that kiss, I can tell he’s really good in bed.
Stop it, Lainey. That’s Holland. Ellie’s twin brother, your best friend’s twin brother. The boy that used to tug on your pigtails and throw dirt at you. The kid who once tripped you in front of a whole group of majorly hot guys at a party, on purpose.
He’s also the guy that sat there with me on my porch on my twelfth birthday while I cried for an hour about my parents canceling their trip home. The guy who punched some rando at a party for trying to touch me after I told him no. There’s no doubt in my mind that Holland Monroe would kick anyone’s ass for hurting me.
That’s something I really respect about him. He’s loyal and protective of everyone that’s close to him. He’d never let anyone hurt his circle. Even though he annoys the shit out of me ninety nine percent of the time, I know he’d never let anything happen to me.
Groaning, I fall backward and spread out on the queen-sized bed. The white sheets are soft, and they smell like lavender. The hotel Gwen and Ryker booked for the wedding party is absolutely beautiful. The view from my room is something out of a freaking fairytale.
The grand hotel overlooks the crystal blue water of the Bay of Naples, its pale limestone façade glowing gold in the late afternoon sun. The terraces are draped in ivy and pink wild bougainvillea. It looks unreal, like it’s a painting, and I can completely understand why Gwen and Ryker chose this as their wedding destination.
Inside, the lobby boasts high ceilings, beautiful old paintings and pictures on the walls. The marble floors are so clean, they reflect the light from the glass chandeliers.
The reception desk, which looks like it’s carved from dark oak, stands beneath a massive oil painting of the Amalfi coast, the vibrant colors sticking out in the almost stark white interior.
From the outside, each room seems to have floor-to-ceiling windows that open onto private balconies.
It would be an amazing palace to sip a coffee in the morning and read a book while overlooking the bay. God, what I’d do to stay here forever.
I haven’t been up to the rooftop yet, but according to what Gwen shared with us about the hotel, there’s an infinity pool that looks as if it’s a part of the sea, bordered by cream-colored loungers and shaded pergolas.
There are apparently some wild parties that happen up there at night, and I’d hate to know what’s happened on the loungers and in the pool. God only knows the kind of shit that’s gone down.
Needless to say, this place is incredible, and I almost wish we were staying for more than a week. There’s so much to do and see, there’s no way we’ll be able to get it all done in seven days. I guess I’ll just have to use mom and dad’s credit card to come back. Not like they’ll notice, or care anyways.
Deciding I need to move instead of lounging inside my hotel room, I jump out of bed and walk out onto the balcony. The sound of the water crashing below and the birds flying above is so serene. Things like this make me forget all about the fact that I’m all alone.
I know I have friends and people that care about me, but I don’t have my own family and that’s kind of shitty.
I swear I’m not depressed or anything like that. I can have fun and party. I’m not always thinking about my parents or how much I wish they were in my life. How much I want to feel wanted by them.
I’m the fun friend. The one that makes everyone laugh and cheers everyone on. I’m the one who keeps the party going and makes sure everyone is having a good time. I always have a smile on my face and I’m always up for a little adventure.
But sometimes it gets a little tiring always being the one that has to be strong. I know my friends would be there for me; they always are. I just don’t like looking weak. When people know you have a weakness, they can exploit it.
They’ll use that weakness to tear you down. They’ll use it against you. I don’t need anyone seeing that I’m not as tough as I make myself seem. It’s my little secret, and I’ll keep it hidden as long as I can.
Obviously, my closest friends like Ellie, Gwen, and Haley know about my past with my parents. They know when I’m feeling down about it, too. But I don’t ever let myself cry about it.
I doubt my mother or father give a second thought about me except when they send the rare text asking how I am or if I’m still at school. They don’t call or facetime, they send a text.
How pathetic is that? Poor little Lainey, her own parents don’t even want her. God, I’m such a loser.
Letting my head fall forward, I close my eyes and listen to the noises and smell the scents wafting around me. The sun is warm on my skin and the light breeze feels amazing.
Fuck, Lainey. Get out of your damn head. You’re in fucking Italy right now for your best friend’s wedding.
The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, and the wedding is Saturday. It’s going to be beautiful and you’re going to have a blast. You’re going to--
