I swallow hard, completely unable to process this sudden softness from him.
Gio slowly releases me and steps back, and I stare at him in stunned silence. "Yeah, I agree," I mumble, staring at my feet.
We stand quietly for a few moments, the silence almost deafening.
"Next time, I better catch you drinking rum."
I let out a cold little laugh. "I don’t like rum," I say.
Gio freezes. "...For real?"
"Yeah," I say. "Keep the rum to yourself, Fontana."
"Wow. Give me my hug back. I didn’t know you were THAT weird," he says, bumping my shoulder with his.
I laugh. For real this time. "Sorry," I mutter, still smiling. "Didn’t realize my drink preferences were a character flaw."
"It is," he says immediately. "No joke. Fix it, Weston."
Then he looks straight ahead again. I keep staring at him, laughing a little under my breath. Then I finally look forward too. Silence. Just the waves. Eventually, I clear my throat.
"Thanks, Gio..."
He raises an eyebrow, confusion flickering briefly across his annoyingly handsome face. "For what?"
I hesitate, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "For backing me up. In the messages with Sophia, I mean. You could’ve easily used it all against me, but you didn’t."
Gio smirks slightly, rolling his eyes, pretending innocence. "Who said I was backing you up? Maybe you misread it."
He drinks another sip from my bottle.
We both crack a smile, knowing damn well he is lying. The air feels lighter suddenly.
Gio suddenly stands up, stretching lazily in front of me.
"Come on, I wanna show you something nice," he says casually, nudging me with his foot.
I look up at him skeptically, hesitating. He stops near the shoreline, squatting down close to the gentle waves. I stare blankly at him, confused.
Gio glances up impatiently, urging me closer. "What the hell are you waiting for?" he asks, gesturing toward the water. "Come here, you have to see this."
I groan. "If this is another one of your—"
"Move your ass, Weston."
I drag myself up and follow him toward the water.
Slowly, suspiciously, I crouch down beside him, squinting into the clear water, then back at Gio.
"What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"
He leans in closer, voice lowered conspiratorially. "They say if you dip your hand into the water really slowly… just like this, you’ll see tiny little bubbles rise up from the bottom."
I frown, more confused than ever, my thoughts fuzzy from the wine. What the hell is he talking about?
I lean forward cautiously, trying to see what he means.
My face hovers inches above the calm surface. And that’s when I feel ice-cold seawater slapping right into my face, stinging my skin and flooding my eyes.
