“Not yet, but all’s good.” I catch Bianca’s gaze and kiss Nonna’s forehead, and before anyone else can call me over, I slip out.
The infinity pool is dimly lit with fairy lights, an extension of the endless night sky. It’s like a scene from a Disney movie. All I need are talking fireflies and singing rabbits urging me to “kiss the boy.”
To make time pass as I wait, I contemplate posting the footage from dinner service and critiquing the food. I decide it’s not the best idea, given Chef Vittoria’s reaction, so instead, I make a quick montage of the food and splice it with some footage I shot of the seaand villa at large—that’s when I notice Ricky in the background. I toy with the idea of clipping him out, but I know my viewers will be looking for him, for context clues as to whether we’re back together. I’ve already gained more followers in the last few hours, so it certainly can’t hurt to just have him there, right? Pull a Taylor Swift and plant hidden messages and sit back and collect on views? Especially given the upcoming @FoodForChange contest, I’m going to need all the likes and viewer power I can muster to vote for my content once I figure out what the hell I’m doing for that.
It’s fine—this is fine.
Except. It doesn’t feel fine, or right, but neither does cutting Ricky out.
Then again, it’s not like I’m zooming in on Ricky or anything. He’s just . . .there.
When I hear footsteps, I don’t bother editing the sound levels and audio because my adrenaline is pumping, so I press the upload button and shove my phone into the pocket of my jeans.
Matty and Ricky turn the corner.
Ricky freezes.
God, he fills out a button-down shirt so well these days. And those pants. The thighs. His face in the low light is hauntingly beautiful, and I can’t help myself; I have to stare, to study him, take him in the way I used to.
“Sorry!” Matty waves his hands in the air overdramatically. An actor, he is not. “I did not know you would be down here, bro. I’m gonna jet.” Matty turns on his heels.
“Wait, Ricky,” I call after Ricky, but he hasn’t moved. “Can we—”
“Talk?” Ricky finishes for me.
@LemonAtFirstSight 3 min ago
Views: 10
10
CAPTION:Amalfi FTW!! Bellissima!
HOT MIC AUDIO:
FIELDER: . . . this lemon tiramisu is the best thing I’ve had in my mouth since—
MATTY (WHISPERS): Let me guess, does his name rhyme with Mickey?
1 COMMENT
amithedrama
How gauche. This is who you want representing you
@FoodForChange?
Chapter 10
I’ve Got Moves You’ve Never Seen
There’s nowhere for either of us to hide.
Like the sun, I avoid staring directly at him. If I do, I risk being blinded.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say.
He scoffs. “You’re one to talk.” His voice isn’t exactly warm as he snakes around the far edge of the pool area and leans over the stone wall.
