I’m embarrassed for only a second until Sully grins at me. “Nobody gets it on the first try. Let's go again.”
Finally, on the fifth attempt, the car moves, and I almost scream with joy when we move slow as molasses down the empty road. Sully guides me into shifting the car up again, and suddenly, I’m driving manual. I’m doing it! It is just like riding a bike. I take us all the way back to the villa, with only the sound of the wind through my hair and the engine's hum to accompany the drive. Sully let me have my moment. Let me cherish it.
After parking, I can’t stop myself from leaning over to press my mouth to Sully’s. His fingers curl in my shirt, tugging me closer until I’m leaning over the console in a way that’ll make myback hurt in the morning. I don’t give a single shit, though. The way Sully’s lips move under mine all but fries my brain. Not a single thought, but Sully. Just Sully, Sully, Sully.
“After dinner tonight,” Sully whispers against my mouth, “let me come to your room.”
“Okay.” And every single molecule of my body feels like it’s been struck by lightning.
“What’d you get up to today?” Olivia asks after swallowing a large gulp of wine.
“Oh, nothing. Just touristy stuff.”
Olivia does not believe me. She eyes me for a moment, squints one eye, then the other. “Did you hang out with Sully?”
I clear my throat and push back my shoulders. “Maybe.”
“He’s a good guy, better than douchecanoe.”
“Olivia!”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “As if you don’t call him worse in your head.”
I grab the glass of wine from her hands and gulp the rest of it down as she stares at me in mild fear. “I don’t. I try not to think about him at all. He’s a jerk.”
“Use a stronger word than jerk.”
“Dick?”
Olivia saws her hand back and forth. “Acceptable.”
I laugh into the now-empty glass of wine. The sounds of dinner being cooked in the kitchen waft onto the porch, where Olivia and I sway on a hammock. Down below, some guys are playing a pre-dinner football game. No tackling, to Olivia’s happiness and the men's annoyance.
“Sully is a good guy,” Olivia says softly.
I turn to look at her, taking in her soft blond waves and the eyes that match mine. Our father's eyes. Turning back to look out at the lawn, I find Sully staring up at us just before the football hits him in the stomach. He leans over with a chuckle, grabs the football, and stands back up with a furious blush. Oh, man. I’m down so bad after just a few days.
Olivia whistles as she leans her head against my shoulder. “My wedding is making matches. Look at that.”
“It’s just a fling.”
“Sullyneverdates, has flings, or looks atanyonelike that. But keep telling yourself that, big bro.” And with that, Olivia stands from the hammock and disappears back inside as if she did not just drop a nuclear bomb right on top of me.
