“It doesn’t,” she whispered, even as she floated closer.
I let my fingers brush her waist, slowly trailing up to her bra line, teasing along the wire.
She breathed in sharply but didn’t pull away.
Our lips met, and it was familiar and warm against the cool water around us. The kiss was slow at first—wet, soft, teasing—until she grabbed my jaw with both hands and pulled me deeper. And I went willingly, hungrily.
Her body pressed against mine, slick from the water, our mouths moving like a storm building at sea, dangerous and inevitable.
I pushed her gently against a flat rock, kissing down her neck, tasting salt and her skin and the wine we shared like a secret.
She gasped as I whispered against her mouth, “Vacation, right?”
She kissed me back hard enough to bruise, and I felt myself fall even more.
I woke up slow, tangled in hotel sheets that still smelled like her.
The morning sun bled through the sheer curtains and casted pale golden light across the bed. Nicola was still asleep beside me, half on her stomach, one leg stretched out over the cool linen. Her hair was a mess across the pillow, and her lips were parted just enough to make my chest twist.
She looked soft like this. Peaceful, even.
Like the warzone we usually were in didn’t exist between us. Like we hadn’t spent the last year arguing across race paddocks and pretending we didn’t watch each other when the other wasn’t looking.God, I could wake up like this for the rest of my life.
I let myself imagine it—for one selfish minute.
That she was mine.
That this was real.
But then she shifted in her sleep, murmured something unintelligible, and the spell snapped. I was reminded exactly where we were.Portofino.The rulebook echoing in my head:It doesn’t count.That’s what we agreed on. This vacation was a bubble, a break, not real life.
I slipped out of bed carefully, grabbed my hoodie and wallet, and left the room as quietly as I could and headed toward the main part of the hotel past the private villas. The hotel hallways were quiet, the early morning light pouring through the tall arched windows. I followed the scent of fresh coffee down to the ground floor lounge, where a few early risers were grabbing breakfast from the café bar.
And of course, Alexander was already there.
“Morning,” he said, calm and polished even in a T-shirt and linen shorts. He was fixing up two coffees on a tray. “You’re up early.”
“Could say the same to you,” I replied, heading straight to the espresso machine. “Let me guess—coffee delivery for Lucia?”
He didn’t answer right away, just added a spoon of sugar to one of the cups like he knew exactly how she took it.
I smirked. “Boyfriend of the year. Bold strategy.”
“She deserves it,” he said simply.
Something about the way he said it—steady, no hesitation—made my chest ache a little. He meant it. Lucia had grounded him in a way I never expected to see. He lookedhappy.
“I’ve never seen her like this,” I admitted. “She used to be…always on edge. Distrusting.”
“She still doesn’t trust half the people around her,” Alex said, finally looking at me, “But she trusts me. And I don’t take that for granted.”
I nodded slowly. “You make her better.”
“She makes me better.”
And damn, if that didn’t hit harder than I expected it to.
Before I could say anything else, he slid a juice box onto the tray and raised an eyebrow at me. “Gianna wants a pool day. Said to meet her down there or she’ll start without us.”
