A Place in the Sun(38)

We went back to the beach stickier and tipsier than when we’d left. As soon as our feet hit the sand, Massimo swept Katerina up and kissed her, complaining that we’d been gone too long. She squealed and batted his chest, swearing she’d shout if he didn’t let her down. I gagged and complained that my gelato was nearly coming up just from watching the two of them.

“I swear, I can feel it in my throat.”

“Oh Georgie! You just want in on the action, don’t you?” Katerina tried to turn it on me, to pull me into their hug, but I ran away before they could chase me down, now actually feeling my gelato coming up from the exertion.

I tried hard not to find Gianluca as we approached the group, but he was sitting in the chair I’d rented.

He glanced up as I approached, squinting his eyes to see me as I stood in the sun.

“Did you manage to get any of the gelato in your mouth?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He pointed at my chest and I glanced down to see melted gelato on my chest and down the front of my white bikini top.

Chiara, who’d taken the chair beside Gianluca, laughed and handed me her water bottle. “Here, you want to wash it off?”

I brushed it away. “No thanks. I’m good.”

It felt good to turn her down, like I was taking the world’s smallest stand or something. Really, I was just ensuring that my bikini became permanently ruined. She and Gianluca exchanged an isn’t she a sad sap glance and my blood boiled. Were they a full-on couple now? With their own little love language? Pathetic.

“We’re all ready to head back,” Adrianna said with a long moan. “We were just waiting for you two.”

“What? Already? It’s not even late.”

Paolo moaned. “The sun is nearly set! We’ve been here all evening.”

Crap. Had Katerina and I been gone that long? It had seemed as if we’d only sat at the beachside bar for a few minutes.

The group wouldn’t listen to my protests. They packed their beach bags and headed back to the train. I tried to get Gianluca’s attention, but he wouldn’t look at me. Chiara stuck close to him and I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, which was probably for the best. Gianluca had been with women since his wife’s death and though he swore he wasn’t ready for a relationship, he seemed plenty capable of bedding Chiara. Utter bullshit if you ask me. I’d put the group together. I’d thought to bring Chiara along and had I known she really fancied Gianluca so much, I would never have thought of doing it.

Katerina sat by Massimo on the train ride back and Chiara stole the seat beside Gianluca, which left me sitting by Adrianna the bore. She plopped down in the seat and pulled out after-sun cream for her skin.

“Want some? Smells like vanilla.”

“Nope.”

Rule number one in any war: don’t accept face cream from the enemy camp.

Gianluca and Chiara were seated in the row behind me, speaking Italian so fluidly it nearly made me cry. It was a travesty that Gianluca ever spoke anything but Italian. In English, his words were sharp and confident, but in Italian they were absolutely seductive. I adjusted the towel around my middle (my sarong had seemed much too complicated to put back on) and tried hard to block out the sounds of love spewing around me.

Chiara giggled and Adrianna sensed my unease.

“She really loves him, you know,” she whispered so they couldn’t hear.

I nodded, not keen on continuing the conversation.

“They’ve known each other forever. He used to summer here and they had a fling once when they were teenagers.”

The longer she spoke, the tighter my stomach twisted. I let my head fall against the train’s window and squeezed my eyes shut. Would it have been too much to ask for the train to derail and kill everyone on board but me and Gianluca?

He was supposed to go for me. If he ever wanted to date someone or bed someone, it was meant to be me, not Chiara. It just wasn’t fair that the first amazing man I’d met in years didn’t fancy me back. Of course he doesn’t, Georgie, you have gelato down your front and enough alcohol in your system to bring down a horse.

I spent the remainder of the train ride dissecting what Chiara had that I didn’t. She was Italian. She had lovely brown skin, quite a few shades darker than mine. Her black hair was long and silky. She wasn’t supermodel gorgeous or anything, but she was pretty and quite kind. You know who else can be kind? Kidnappers who tell you they’ve got puppies and candy inside their windowless van. He really ought to be careful with her.

I groaned and my breath fogged up the glass. Gianluca was perfect though, beyond. Utterly annoyingly beautiful and smart and thoughtful. The man could have picked anyone (me!) and he’d gone for her! A colossal mistake if you ask me. I should tell him what a mistake he’s making, I thought. There aren’t any puppies in that van, Gianluca, and if there are, they probably have rabies.

“We’re here,” Adrianna said, bumping my shoulder and interrupting my emotional nosedive.

“Oh.”

I stood, adjusting my towel and beach bag, and chanced a quick glance back at Gianluca. He was talking to Massimo with his back turned to me, but Chiara saw me looking. There was recognition in her eyes and I whipped back around, trailing after Adrianna off the train.

What a mess. The day had started out so brilliantly. I was knackered from swimming and sunning and I knew I’d turned another shade darker. I’d had some of the best food in Italy and my muscles were sore from all my laps in the sea. But somewhere along the way, Gianluca had pulled away, distancing himself from me so he could make a real play for Chiara. God, he’d just gone on and on about how he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and now he was flirting with her like that?!