Tomorrow was my last day.
Then I had to go back to reality. I had to move everything out of my apartment so my replacement could move in—with her two kids in tow. I suspected she might already be there because her husband may have thrown her out on her ass. Now she needed Enzo to provide for her since he was knee deep in this with her.
Or balls deep, I should say.
I already had gigs lined up with clients who had booked six months in advance. Weddings on the weekends, private events, engagement photos, all sorts of things. I had enough clients and a strong enough brand, along with word-of-mouth marketing, that I could afford an apartment by myself, but not the one I’d shared with Enzo. That was a three-bedroom apartment with a full kitchen and a large living room, a mansion for a place like Rome. I’d have to move outside the city center, which meant I’d have to commute to every gig. I usually walked everywhere, but now I’d have to get a motorbike because a car was too expensive and too difficult to navigate on those kinds of roads.
I didn’t want to think about all those things, but I had to. I should have done it sooner, because now when I picked up my stuff, I’d have to crash with a friend or get a room at a cheap motel until I could find a new place to live.
But fuck it, I’d rather enjoy my fuck-cation.
Constantine took me to an outdoor bar called Daiquiri, down the stairs off the main street, with a full menu of fruity drinks and cocktails that made it special. The outdoor terrace had a string of lights overhead, colorful chairs on the pebbled terrace.
They brought our drinks, bringing him a glass of wine and me a piña colada, because why the hell not? They also brought a bowl of potato chips, two plates of appetizers of potato coquettes with shredded beets on top, and then fresh bread slathered in fresh ragu. They gave you so much food that it could easily spoil your appetite for dinner if you went overboard.
So goddamn handsome and utterly fuckable, he sat there relaxed in the chair and just stared at me, in a dark-gray collared shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and exposing the ink of his forearms. A damn tree that anyone would love to climb, he was a behemoth of a man.
He was so hot that I didn’t care what he was doing last night. Killing people, selling drugs, whatever. He might be the most dangerous man in Sicily, and I still didn’t give a damn. Because Jesus Christ ... look at him.
His focused stare remained on mine, his confidence piercing my gaze with bullets. “What are you thinking?”
That you’re fucking dangerous, and I don’t care. “That you’re so fucking hot,” I said with a sigh because it was painful to look at him. It was the truth—at least half of the truth.
A hint of a smile moved into the corners of his mouth. He grabbed his wineglass and took a drink.
“And you’re a great tour guide.” I grabbed the frosted glass of the piña colada and took a drink out of the reusable metal straw before I returned it to the coaster. “What was supposed to be the worst week of my life has turned into the best. I’d just hit rock bottom when we crossed paths.”
He gave me his complete focus like he always did when I spoke. Like every word out of my mouth mattered. Like he found me utterly fascinating.
“I completely lost myself ... but I found her again.” Found the woman who didn’t tolerate bullshit. Who wouldn’t put up with a man who didn’t give me what I deserved—even if I still loved him. “It just makes it easier to get my stuff and move on with my life.” To carry everything I’d learned into the next relationship ... if and when I was ready to be in one again.
I imagined he broke a lot of hearts as he passed through life. I could easily be the type of woman who expected and hoped this would be something more, and he’d have the painful task of explaining that the situationship had a deadline. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me to imagine him replacing me with his next fling in just a couple days or a week—or if he already had a line of regulars back at home who were happy to settle for casual.
But I accepted it. “So, thanks for spending the week with me.”
He said nothing, elbows propped on the armrests, his hands clasped together with his fingers stitched.
“How do you normally handle this? You know ... when the time comes to go your separate ways.”
He continued his hard stare, eyes flicking back and forth slightly, like I’d said something he didn’t quite understand.
“I imagine they don’t always take it so well.” I knew there was no chance that I’d have something more with Constantine. Not because he’d made that clear, but come on, a man like him never settled down. You just had to be grateful for the dick and let him go give it to someone else. Just appreciate the moment rather than mourn the loss ... or wonder what could have been if he’d felt differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have taken this so well if I hadn’t just gotten my heart crushed, if I hadn’t just gotten out of a relationship and lost all desirability to be in another. I didn’t think of him that way at all, but I supposed he was a rebound.
His strong silence continued for a while. “I make my intentions clear up front. Tell them exactly what will go down before anything happens. Never had a problem.”
“Oh.” My mind searched through the receipts I stored in my head, never recalling a time when he’d said anything to me of that nature. Never established what this was. Never confirmed that this would end when our vacations were over. “Well, you’re lucky you haven’t had any problems, because you aren’t as clear as you think you are,” I said with a laugh, wanting to sound playful rather than confrontational. “But don’t worry, we’re on the same page.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at what I said, like he continued not to understand. The more time I spent with him, the more I witnessed his intelligence and his wit, and this was the first time it felt like we were actually on very different pages.
“You haven’t said any of that to me,” I explained.
His signature stare was visible, white hot and searing, branding my flesh like cattle. He almost looked angry, given the degree of intensity with which he stared at me, like I was his enemy rather than his lover. My words weren’t meant to be offensive or perverse, but he appeared to have taken them that way. “I know I haven’t.”
I waited for more. Waited for him to realize his error, clarify what he meant, but as the silence continued, I realized nothing was coming. And then the understanding hit me like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. First, it was shock, and then the flames ignited from the collision and burned my flesh. I swallowed, and my own saliva felt like a bowling ball.
“I’ve never done this before. Never spent a week with a woman here in Taormina. Never invited a woman to pack up her things and share a hotel room with me. Back at home, my hookups are brief and transactional. I also don’t go around fucking women bareback either.”
I was so stunned I could barely feel my face. Barely feel my chest rise with the breath I needed to take. The shock hardened all my limbs and made it impossible to move. Temporary paralysis.
