But I’d never been one to take the high road. Never been one to remain cool and collected. I always liked to get in the last word if I could snatch it. So I typed a message to him, short and simple, something to make his heart drop into his stomach.
Wish you and Luna the best.
PS: You forgot to delete the messages on your watch.
PPS:
Chapter 6
Constantine
I texted her and told her to meet me at the fountain in Piazza Duomo. It was a circular fountain with four small horses as guardians. Only one of the horses worked as a fountain of fresh water. The rest had lost their ability through the ages. It was directly across from Duomo di Taormina, an ancient church that was still in use today.
I sat on the steps of the fountain in jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and with sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. It was late May, a quiet time before the tourists flooded the area for summer, and the weather was already warm.
I noticed her when she entered the square, wearing a long sundress with platform sandals and a sun hat—perfectly dressed for a holiday. She had dark hair the color of cocoa, natural full lips that I was always a sucker for, and green eyes that were bright rather than hazel. I’d noticed them the first time I saw her outside my family’s restaurant.
I rose to my feet and smiled as she walked toward me, a tall woman who was still petite in comparison to my height. I’d never been picky when it came to women, but I did appreciate a woman with legs for days, who was tall and elegant, someone I could kiss without having to break my neck.
She smiled back as she drew close, her hand moving to the shoulder where the strap of her bag hung. “Hey.” She came to a stop before me, aviator sunglasses covering her eyes from my sight. She was awkward again, like she didn’t know how to act around me, even though she’d already fucked my brains out.
I stepped closer to her, watching her reaction change behind the glasses, and slid my arm around the small of her back before I eased her into me and kissed her. A PG embrace suitable for the families nearby.
And I felt it—that same scorching heat.
Her hand automatically went to my forearm, and her posture changed. It softened, leaning into me like she was pulled by my presence. She sank into my lips a little bit, like she wanted to stay there.
I pulled away. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”
“Of Taormina?” she asked in surprise.
“Only the good spots.”
She hesitated again, growing distant like she didn’t belong there. “That’s awfully nice of you.”
“It’s small, so don’t sweat it.”
“Still, you don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, I’m not doing this for free.”
“You aren’t?” she asked.
I grinned, watching the understanding enter her gaze once she comprehended my meaning. “You’ll pay up later.” I nodded toward the main street, Corso Umberto, only accessible by pedestrians. “Come on.” The road passed all the souvenir shops and gelaterias and led farther into town and all the pathways that branched off it. “Our first stop—Bam Bar.”
“The granita place?” she asked excitedly.
“The very one.”
“Good. I’m starving.”
We walked together down the main street, and I pointed out all the spots I recommended—and the others that were considered tourist traps. Cannoli made without love because they assumedpassersby wouldn’t know the difference. Souvenirs made in China instead of handcrafted items from the locals.
We strolled down a couple of streets, made our way slightly uphill toward the Greek theatre, and then emerged at the entrance to Bam Bar, a line of people already outside waiting for a table.
“Oh my god, it’s so cute,” she said. “I love the tables.”
With a sun in the center andBam Barwritten in yellow, the tables were custom made by a local dealer. All the restaurants and cafés had the same furniture, just with different designs and colors.
