Something about the way she says it, low and deliberate, makes my pulse spike. Like she’s not shutting me down, just reminding me of the line we’re toeing and of the temporary nature of this arrangement.
And the worst part? It looks like she believes that.
I dip my head, brushing my mouth close enough to hers that I feel her sigh.
“One kiss,” I murmur.
Her hand lingers where it is, then relaxes just slightly, and that’s all the permission I need. My lips find hers, quick and hot, stealing the taste of her laugh before the sound of footsteps jolts us apart.
She smooths her hair like nothing happened, stepping out of the alcove ahead of me with a sneaky smile on her face.
I drag a hand through my hair, trying to school my expression before I follow. And realize that I’m fucking done for.
22
MANUELA
“God, I love European towns.”Amelia sighs as she stops in front of a boutique window. A mannequin in a floaty white dress stares back at us. “Everything looks like it belongs in a movie.”
The cobblestones are slick underfoot, still damp from this morning’s rain, even with the sun shining bright in the sky. The town looks like something out of a postcard—rows of white-and-cream buildings with flower boxes hanging from every window, the scent of fresh bread drifting from the corner bakery. After getting back from the chocolate tasting, the men stayed at the house and we drifted lazily into the small town by the resort, going in and out of shops all afternoon.
Elle loops her arm through mine, tugging me along. “You just want an excuse to buy that dress and claim it’s practical for winery hopping.”
Amelia grins, unbothered. “Wouldn’t you?”
We duck into the boutique, bells chiming over the door. Inside, racks of silk blouses and sundresses line the walls, the air perfumed with lavender sachets. Nicole is towards the back, flipping through hangers with quick, practiced fingers, whileHannah drifts toward a display of handbags, her expression unreadable as always.
After a few minutes of casual browsing, Elle drifts toward a table of colorful scarves near the door, fingers trailing absently over the silk. I wander after her, grateful for the momentary lull and the fact that everyone else is otherwise entertained.
“You’re so quiet,” she says, glancing up with that perceptive tilt of her head I’ve come to know too well. “Are you having fun?”
I laugh softly, touching a red scarf with my fingers. “Of course. It’s been great.”
She narrows her eyes, like she doesn’t quite buy it. “I feel like I’ve been the worst host. Always pulled in ten directions with Jack and the others.” She pouts. “I thought I’d have more time with you.”
“Elle, stop. You don’t have to babysit me,” I say quickly, and I mean it. “I’m having fun. You’ve already done so much, and the trip has been amazing. Truly.”
Her shoulders ease a little. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”
I nod, smile. “Right.”
She squeezes my hand before drifting back toward the counter.
And I stand there for a beat longer, letting the noise of the shop swell around me—Nicole’s laugh, Amelia’s mock gasp at a price tag, Hannah’s flat, unimpressed hum.
“Find anything good?” Amelia appears at my side, sunglasses pushed up into her brown hair, a soft smile on her face.
“Just admiring,” I say. “Everything’s beautiful.”
“It is,” she agrees, eyes sweeping the shop. “It’s also a little… much, isn’t it? All of this.”
I glance at her, surprised. “You think so?”
“Sometimes I wonder if we all like the performance more than the actual stuff.” Her smile tilts, conspiratorial now. “Don’t tell Elle I said that.”
I laugh under my breath, the tension in my shoulders loosening a fraction at the unexpected vulnerability.
“Anyway,” she adds lightly, “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice having you around. I really enjoy spending time together.”
