“Are you sure it’s not just the ticking clock – you know you’re leaving, she knows she’s staying, so everything got heightened and exciting?”
“I’m not sure of anything, man. All I know is she’s worth it, for however long it lasts.”
Paolo frowns in concern, but Xavier’s saved from whatever he was going to say by Bianca’s return.
“Please tell me we’re doing dessert because I just walked by the display and the cannoli are calling my name,” she says as she sits next to him and smiles brightly at them both.
Xavier lifts his hand toward their waiter. “Let’s get you cannoli then.”
Theyallget cannoli, only leaving behind a smattering of fried dough as evidence of the demolished dessert course before they push away from the table and head out in the night.
“Where are you headed?” Xavier says as they hand their tickets off to the valet, annoyed that Paolo gave the waiter his credit card before he even met them at the table. He should at least be able to buy the older man a drink or two tonight.
“Ah, I have an appointment in . . . about an hour.”
“An appointment?” Xavier asks. “At . . . ten o’clock at night . . .”
Paolo shakes his head. “A lovely woman I knew back in Prague lives in Los Angeles now and I promised her we’d catch up while I was here.”
“That’s the most polite way I’ve ever heard someone describe a booty call in my life,” Xavier jokes, but leans in for a farewell hug.
“Booty call? Your generation doesn’t understand romance at all. Meeting up with a long-lost lover after years apart, and hecalls it a booty call. I’m ashamed of you,” Paolo teases back when he pulls away and then takes Bianca’s hand, pressing a kiss to it. Then, as the valet approaches with his rental car – an Alfa Romeo, of course – he turns back to Xavier. “Remember what I said. Think about it and let me know what you decide.”
Xavier shoves his hands into his pockets and nods. “Will do. I’ll see you soon.”
“A presto ad Atene!”
“What are you deciding?” Bianca asks as his car is brought around and the valet holds the door open for her and Xavier slides a tip into his hand.
“What? Oh, nothing, just a thing about housing in Greece. I’ve got time to figure it out.” He lies through his teeth because the only thing he can focus on, the only image running through his mind, is thirty years from now, him in LA for business, reaching out to Bianca, getting together for, what did Paolo call it, an appointment . . . long-lost loves reuniting for a moment before going their separate ways again.
His old professor might think it’s romantic, but to Xavier it’s the saddest thing he’s ever heard.
Chapter 18
The wave under her board is solid and keeps her upright as she rides it to a natural conclusion toward the Malibu Pier. It brings her nearly all the way back onto the sand and she pops off her board gracefully, before lifting it up under her arm and carrying it over to where Xavier is stretched out next to his board, his chest rising and falling in a way that makes her remember him stretched out across her bed, hair sweat-soaked, body spent.
As a smaller wave follows the one she rode in, it catches her ankles and makes her stumble at the contact, but Xavier doesn’t see. His eyes are closed, his breathing starting to regulate as she sits on the towel beside his, while the early morning sun casts long shadows over his face.
“You’re way better at this than you said you were,” he accuses, but there’s no bite to his words.
She can’t quite help the smile that quirks up at the backhanded praise. “I don’t remember claiming any particular level of skill.”
“You know what I mean.”
Bianca lets out a hum of agreement. “You are way less coordinated than you look.”
She’s teasing and he absolutely knows it. Most first-time surfers never even stand up during their first lesson. He actuallymanaged to stay upright on the board for a few seconds before face-planting into the water that last time and he’d gotten a mouthful of salt water and sand for his trouble.
“I thought I looked like Indiana Jones,” he grouses, turning away from her and spitting into the sand.
Wrinkling her nose, she digs through her bag and grabs a water bottle. “I’m not sure how closely you watched those movies, but for an action hero, he actually falls down a lot.”
“I feel like I swallowed an entire shaker of salt.” He wipes at his face, trying to get the sand off it, but she bats his hands away.
“You basically did. Don’t do that, you’ll make it worse. Keep your eyes closed.” She takes her water bottle and pours it gently over his head before pressing a clean towel into his hands. He presses the cotton against his eyes before he blinks up at her. “Here.”
He chugs the water bottle down and lets out a harsh cough once he finishes.
