He raises an eyebrow. "Or would you prefer to explore the area on your own?"
"No," I reply hastily, turning to my backpack. "We can go right away."
"Great." I can’t quite place the undertone in his voice.
"Great," I respond, putting on the determined expression of a guesthouse owner on an expansion course. I feel like I'm wearing a mask as I quickly slip into my sneakers and approach him. But it's necessary so he doesn't confuse me even more. "Where are we going?"
He defers to me and closes the door behind us. "Wherever you want."
My checklist is in my backpack, so I have no idea where I want to go.
Chewing on my lower lip, I head toward the exit. "What do you recommend?"
"Everyone knows about the hills, the wine, and the pasta. That's boring," he replies thoughtfully. Then for a moment, his usually guarded blue eyes spark. How charming he suddenly appears. He gestures toward his VW bus. "Climb aboard, please, we'll make your blood boil today."
Did he just say that we boil blood, or did I misunderstand?
Not only his words but also the sight of his van give me pause. Up close, the vehicle looks like it could break down on the road at any moment.
It's probably safe, but my fear has too tight a grip on me to get inside.
I have a talent for constantly injuring myself. It's been like that my whole life. My mother drilled into me to take care of myself until I developed the habit of avoiding every little risk.
It's a bit crazy, but I can't shake off the fear. "Let's just take my car instead," I quickly say and nod toward my red Golf.
A steep crease forms between his eyebrows, and suddenly, he doesn't look charming at all. Still, I'd really like to know what's going on in his head right now.
Did I hurt him? Does he think I'm a snob? Or is he trying to figure out why I'm so confused by him, just like I am?
For seconds, we gaze at each other. Then he closes the door of his camper again. "Okay," he says with a shrug and strolls over to my car.
Never before has someone just accepted a suggestion from me like that. With a grateful nod, I march to the car and slide into the driver's seat.
I start the engine, give it a cautious rev, and steer the car onto the access road. "Where are we going?"
His promising grin is infectious. "It's a surprise. At the exit, turn right for now."
He's not going to tell me, huh? What does that mean?
Well, it's something different and kind of cute. Somehow.
"Okay," I mumble and turn onto the paved country road.
On the way, I focus on the road. Not just because safety takes precedence while driving but also because something about Vico makes me nervous.
The way he immediately goes for my car radio to turn up the volume. How he sings along loudly as if he doesn't care that he's completely off-key. And the glances he throws my way from time to time. Then he smirks to himself and eventually looks away.
Inevitably, I wonder what he thinks of me. What he thinks he sees when he looks at me. And why he's been acting so differently since we left the estate behind.
Suddenly, he turns to me. "Come on, sing along."
"I don't know this song." I emphasize my words with a dismissive gesture.
"It doesn't matter." Even though I'm not looking at him, I feel his gaze. It's making my entire right cheek glow. "It's all about having fun, after all."
Fun? I raise an eyebrow. That has something to do with letting go. As much as I'd love to let go, it's unfortunately not a good idea at all.
Curious, he leans over to me. "You don't know what this is, do you?"
