The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(62)

I puff as I climb. Fuck, this hill is steep. “What was that?”

“Eat Cornetto ice creams.”

I smile as I listen.

“Watching a movie, Cornetto ice cream. Something was celebrated, a Cornetto ice cream. When I got my first job, he picked me up with a Cornetto ice cream.”

“I haven’t had one of those ice creams in years,” I say.

“Me neither . . . not since he died.”

We walk for a while. “What are your parents like?” she asks.

I think for a moment. “Busy.”

She turns and frowns, as if surprised by my answer. “And that bothers you?”

“Not necessarily.” I walk for a bit. “I just never had that time as a kid to hang around and be bored.”

She listens.

“I went to boarding school from the age of seven. Holidays were always rush, rush, from one exotic resort to another.” I shrug. “I don’t know . . .” My voice trails off.

“Will you send your kids to boarding school?”

“Not on your life.”

She turns as if surprised. “What would you do differently—I mean, to the way you were brought up.”

“Give them my time.”

She stops and turns. “You didn’t get time with your parents?”

“Still don’t.”

She stares at me for a moment. “What about your brothers?”

“My brothers.” I smile. “They take up too much time, I love those fucks.”

She giggles and continues walking.

“We only ever had each other growing up. They mean the world to me.”

We walk for a while.

“Our formative years were spent preparing us to take over Miles Media. We all sometimes resent that we never got to choose our own path.”

She keeps walking in front and I don’t know why I feel the urge to tell her all of this.

“I should probably shut up now.” I pant. “This hill is getting steeper.”

“Yeah, time to piggyback me, Miles. Impress me with your power.”

I laugh and we keep climbing.

“You know, I wish you were a plumber,” she says casually.

I frown. “Why?”

She turns. “Because then I wouldn’t have to share you.”

We stare at each other.

“And you could be a normal boring guy and fall for me.”

That would be the easiest thing in the world to do.

I smile softly. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“If that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever heard”—she laughs and turns back to climbing—“you must know some real assholes.”

“True, I do . . . I’m very good at cleaning out pipes though. So, I am a plumber . . . of sorts.”

She laughs out loud. “I know. A damn good one too.”

I lie on the deckchair and sip my cocktail.

The afternoon sun is just going down over the water and the sound of the gentle waves lapping on the shoreline fills my senses.

Kate is playing volleyball with some kids by the water’s edge. I watch as she laughs and talks with them as if they are long-lost friends.

She’s animated and laughing loudly, so carefree and happy.

She’s in a white bikini and I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so beautiful and flawless.

Calm.

That’s what she is . . . she brings me a sense of calm that I don’t ever remember feeling before.

I don’t have to try to be something I’m not, I can just be myself.

She doesn’t care about my name or my money, or how cool she looks.

She hasn’t worn makeup or styled her hair for our entire trip and I don’t think either of us have looked in a mirror once.

It’s liberating not trying to impress each other. She’s seen me at my absolute worst . . . and I’ve seen hers; and yet somehow, we just work.

I take out my phone and open my messages, smile when I see Pinkie’s name.

I’ve missed her.

Hi Ed,

I hope your holiday is going well?

Things are going well for me, my new boyfriend is turning out to be lovely.

It’s cold here, wishing I was in the sun somewhere . . . next year I hope to be away.

Enjoy your trip, in no time you will be back to being a garbologist.

Pinkie

Xoxo

I smile. Kate’s laughter echoes and my eyes rise to watch the volleyball game.

This is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever had. Pinkie Leroo is the absolute opposite of the kind of women I date, but she gets me, and I somehow get her.

I like our friendship.

What will I reply?

We walk home along the water’s edge holding hands. “I got you something.”

“What’s that?” She smiles up at me.

God, this could go either way . . .

I put my hand in my pocket and pull out two Cornettos.

Kate stares at them in my hand and her eyes immediately well with tears.

Fuck.

“I mean . . . I just thought,” I splutter. “It’s our last night and all . . .”

Her eyes search mine and she smiles softly and goes up onto her tiptoes to kiss me. “Thank you,” she whispers as she takes one from me. “You’re so thoughtful.”