Troy:
If you’re up for heading out, dress casually.
Maya:
I take a lingering shower and twist my hair into a messy knot. Wearing an old t-shirt and jeans, I make my way to the kitchen to be caught up short when I find Troy sitting at the counter on his laptop. His eyes crinkle at the corners. “What you’re wearing is perfect.”
I walk over and wrap my arms around his shoulders. “What are you still doing here?”
He tugs me closer. “Waiting for you.”
“Don’t you, like, have a job to do?” I tease.
He squeezes my hip even as his eyes take on a serious cast. “The most important job I’ll ever have is ensuring you’re happy.”
I lean forward and rest my forehead against his.
“Good answer?”
I rock my head back and forth as my defenses crumble even more than they already were. Then I clarify, “Great one.”
He pulls back and studies the smile on my face as if he’s memorizing the Super Bowl-winning play. After a few moments, he offers me a smile that not only lights up his entire face, I’m certain it could power the villa for centuries. “How about we play hooky today?”
“You’re such a bad influence,” I tease.
“I’m hoping you’ll let me rub off on you.”
I move closer to Troy, causing him to groan. In my vampiest tone, I ask, “You mean like this?”
“I’m going to hate myself later, but—” He gently sets me away from him. “I had something else in mind.”
“Oh? What exactly?”
A determined glint enters his eyes. “There’s a local fair in the next village over—games, rides, food that you’ll never find at an American fair and will make you full in the best way possible. Somewhere fun. No phones. No ghosts from the past. Just… us.”
I tilt my head to the side and ask the most important question of the morning. “What’s the Italian version of funnel cake?”
“Strauben and Furtaies.”
“Will they have it?”
“Is it a deal-breaker if they don’t?”
I shoot Troy an incredulous look. “It might be.”
“Then let’s go find out.”
“Fine. But you’re buying these Strawberries and Fairies if they suck.”
He grins. “I wouldn’t have mentioned them to you if they did.”
As I follow him out the door, I realize my friends were right. It’s never too soon to smile.
To find happiness.
To feel whatever it is between me and Troy so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.
“There’s something incredibly intriguing about the way you’re handling your stick,” I tell Troy as he navigates another tight turn around the Piedmont in his low-slung sports car.
