My So-Called Sex Life (How to Date, #1)(27)

“I’m so glad I’m helping you fight jet lag,” I say dryly. The server swings by with the espressos. I ask for one more with the pizza.

“Of course,” he says.

After he leaves, she lifts her little cup in a toast. “To staying awake by the fountains.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

We clink and down our espressos.

She sets her cup on the table and nods toward the fountain attracting flocks of tourists. “Since you’ve plied me with espressos and sunshine, maybe we can take a quick tour of all the piazzas and fountains today?” She sounds so hopeful, and it tugs on my locked-up heart. “That one is gorgeous.”

“That’s called the Fountain of the Four Rivers. Designed by Bernini. Commissioned by Pope Innocent X,” I say as she gazes at the baroque beauty in the middle of the square. I can’t help it. I love history.

Hazel turns to me. “Seriously. I’ve never been to Rome. Can we fit in a few?”

I smile. “Eat fast, sweetheart.”



The first fountain I take her to is located in an alley only a few steps away from the Piazza Navona. The Fontana dei Libri, or Fountain of Books, is a smaller fountain, carved into a brick wall. A stone deer head rests in the center, flanked by huge stone books that spurt water.

I tell her the story of the fountain that pays homage to the universities in Rome, then the deer head with its religious origins. “But mostly I think the point is knowledge flows from books,” I say, gesturing to the water pouring from the stone pages.

She sighs contentedly. “Then this is a perfect fountain for me to make a wish at.”

I scoff. Hazel makes wishes? “Seriously?”

“You don’t believe in wishes, Huxley? C’mon. You’re not that grumpy.”

Wishes are so not my thing. Actions are. But that sounds douchey, so I keep it to myself. “I only wish upon stars,” I deadpan.

With a smile, she reaches into her travel purse and plucks out a few coins. “Here you go, then. This wish is on me.”

“So generous,” I say as I take the penny, then flip it over a few times between my thumb and index finger. “You really want me to make a wish?”

“Yes!”

“For real?”

“We’re at a fountain,” she says, then scans the alley, which is surprisingly quiet. “I won’t tell a soul you made a wish. I’ll protect your grumpster rep.”

“Thanks,” I say, then fiddle with the coin some more, unsure what to wish for, unsure if I should even wish.

Fountains and me, we have a complicated history.

But then, so do Hazel and I.

She tosses her coin into the water with relish, like she enjoys the plink of the metal against the liquid.

“What’d you wish for?” I ask.

She gives me a look, like don’t try to pull that. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I ask, with a doubtful rise of my eyebrows.

“Of course I do,” she says, adamant. Huh. She does believe in wishing rules. Who would have thought?

“Hazel Valentine, are you…superstitious?”

“With some things, yes.”

Holy shit. This is excellent fodder. I can use this to poke and prod her. I need new ammo. “Do you avoid black cats, ladders, and opening umbrellas in houses?”

“Why would I need to open an umbrella in a house? It’s never raining inside.”

Fair point. “But the others?”

With a smile, she shakes her head. “No. I only believe in wishes,” she says, soft, almost under her breath.

Like she’s embarrassed to admit it.

This is going to be so good for me. I push on. “What about eyelashes? Do you wish on eyelashes that fall?”

“I do,” she says with a genuine smile.

“And dandelions?” I ask, delighted by this charming fact.

“Yep,” she says in that same vulnerable tone.

And dammit.

That tone makes it impossible for me to tease her about wishes now.

Especially since it’s too hard to look at her right now, with that softness in her lips, that warmth in her eyes.

Instead, I turn to the gurgling water, and I flick the coin into it, making a wish for the trip—a wish that’s entirely in my control. I can make this wish come true all on my own.

“What’d you wish for?” she asks as we leave the alley.

“You told me not to tell a wish.”

“I know. But it’s a natural human impulse to ask what someone’s wish is after they make it.”

“When you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

She huffs. “Fine. When mine comes true, I’ll tell you what it was.” She offers a hand to seal the deal.

Once again, we shake hands.

Once again, I wonder what it would feel like to yank her against me.

If she asks again about my wish, I’ll lie.

Once again.





13





THE LONG CON


Axel

We visit the Fountain of Neptune next, then the Piazza Colonna. Finally, we trek toward the Trevi Fountain.

The day hurtles toward evening. Hazel yawned only a few times during the afternoon. I might have logged a few too. I am looking forward to bedtime more than I usually do. Sleep is awesome, and it’ll be more awesome tonight.