The Turning Point (12 page)

Pinning me against his muscled torso and the building, he set his hands on the wall, caging me inside his strong arms. He ground against me, his hardness pressed deliciously close to where I wanted him most.

In high school, I’d kissed a fair share of boys, had sex once, but none of those experiences held a candle to this. I wanted to climb inside him and never come out. In his arms, I felt safe, precious, like nothing bad could ever touch me, because if it tried, it would have to go through him to get to me.

Increasing the pressure on his mouth, I sucked his bottom lip past mine and took it between my teeth with a teasing bite. His hands went to my ass, squeezing, while he pushed and pulled me against his hard-on.

Bing. Bing. Bing.

Lucas stilled the blissful thrusts of his hips and broke our kiss.

Bing. Bing. Bing.

“What is that?” I asked breathlessly.

All at once, Lucas placed his hands at my waist and backed away from the wall. I slid down his body, feeling
all
of him on the way down. My feet touched the ground, but I wasn’t sure I had the strength to stand. Lucas kept one arm around me. “My phone,” he replied, running the other hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“No”—I cleared my throat—“don’t be.” I pulled in a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure, and looked away, brushing my skirt back down where it belonged.

Lucas took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “It’s Dean again,” he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. With a couple button clicks, the phone went dark and he slid it back into his pocket.

“He really wants you to come home.” I looked up at him. He stared back.

Every time our gazes locked, it felt like two puzzle pieces snapping together after an endless series of wrong pieces.

Lucas coughed, placing his hand in front of his mouth. “I realize this is way out of line, and I’m going to sound like a total creeper whatever way I phrase this, so I’m just going to ask.” He paused and swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You mentioned that you’re leaving for Sorrento in a couple days. Would you mind if I joined you?”

“What about Dean?” He’d called twice today; shouldn’t Lucas be thinking about going home? Why didn’t he want to go back?

Shaking his head, his eyes turned sad. The fire our kiss ignited had been suffocated by whatever awaited him at home. “Dean and I can work from anywhere. He’s fine.”

I was elated by the prospect of prolonging our time together. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye either. “How much of a creeper would I be if I said I’d love for you to come with me?”

The corner of his mouth pulled up, the same side that brought out his dimple. That crooked smile could get me to do things I would never consider. He tugged me to his side, keeping his arm securely fastened around my waist. “If I’m a creeper and you’re a creeper, then this trip just got a whole lot more interesting.” He winked as we continued our way down the dark alley.

The other couple was long gone. I wondered if we had chased them off.
How loud had I been? Had they seen us?
Images of crawling onto Lucas, my legs spread around him, sent chills down my back and goose bumps prickling my skin.

“Cold?” Lucas asked, squeezing me close. He ran his hand up and down my arm, shoulder to wrist.

I pressed my lips into a thin smile and shook my head, looking up at him. “Not in the slightest.” For once, it felt nice to shut off my brain and just
feel
.

M
y trip was flying by faster than I wanted it to. Instead of looking forward to all the amazing things I had yet to see, I was dreading the inevitable good-bye I had coming. I’d been in Italy for almost two weeks, and because of Lucas, it had been the best two weeks of my life.

We’d eaten our fill of pizza—real pizza, not the sad Americanized version. He’d consumed a gross amount of
un caffé
(how he slept at night, I’d never know), and my affinity for mint chocolate chip gelato was revealed every time we passed a
gelateria
. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever been so gluttonous.

But despite all the exquisite food, my mind focused on other things—specifically, Lucas and his glorious mouth. Since he’d kissed me in Naples, a week ago, there hadn’t been an encore, not even a prelude. Which was interesting, considering we shared a hotel room (Lucas gave me the bed and he took the hideaway). Despite the friends-only, no-touch policy he’d adopted with me, I couldn’t ignore the tension between us. If something didn’t happen soon, Sorrento was going to suffer a wildfire of epic proportions, because the heat between Lucas and I was bordering on incendiary.

Each night, after a day of roaming the city with “tourist” stamped on our foreheads, Lucas and I would walk back to the hotel, get ready for bed, say good night, and stare at the ceiling for an hour or more, the screams of our hormones ignored.

His demeanor had shifted from exothermic to endothermic in a matter of a week. I didn’t understand what brought about the change when there was a definite attraction between us…at least I thought there was.

Most mornings I’d lie awake, pretending to be asleep, as Lucas milled around the room. He worked during the early hours. While he waited for his laptop to power up, sometimes he’d do a set of crunches or push-ups (which, in my opinion, was better entertainment than books and TV combined, and a beautiful reason to give up on sleep.)

When he finished, he’d take a quick shower and log on to his computer. His fingers would click over the keyboard, responding to e-mails, I assumed. Sometimes he’d even call Dean to discuss facts, figures, and game concepts. But occasionally, their conversation would take on a different tone, something hushed and personal; the name Julia was often uttered like a swear word.

Hearing him say her name while he was awake was different, too. Lucas talked in his sleep, and Julia was the name he muttered most often.

Julia.
Who was she? What was her connection to Lucas, and why did he say her name like it left a nasty taste in his mouth? Which also begged the question, why did she star in his dreams almost every night?

All these questions bombarded my thoughts, and then there was the stupid voice in my head that reminded me of all the reasons I needed to stay away from Lucas and mind my own business. Lucas would only complicate things and it was important to keep him at a safe distance, because allowing my heart to voice its opinion would only result in suffering.

When my dad left, my seven-year-old heart shattered. When Penley died, it was too much and a part of me died with her. I’d come to realize that being close to people only led to pain and disappointment, similar to Lucas’s ideas about expectations.

I had Mom and Nonna. I didn’t need anyone else. The wall I built around my heart was the perfect way to hide my emotions and pretend I didn’t feel hopeless inside, and school served as the perfect distraction from life.

Chemical equations, chemical bonds, statics, diseases and disorders with long, complicated Latin names were my bricks, and fear was my mortar. I had built a strong wall. If no one came inside, I’d remain safe from ever feeling the kind of loss and sadness I felt when Dad left and Pen died.

It was best that Lucas kept his distance. Accepting that he was my friend already put my wall on shaky ground. I couldn’t risk it falling down and exposing the remains of my scared heart, leaving it vulnerable for someone to wreck completely.

Then, like peering into a crystal ball, my brain reminded me of something else…

A handsome, distinguished, gray-haired man bearing a gorgeous dimple in his left cheek sat at the bedside of a sleeping, withered, white-haired lady with sallow, olive-colored skin. He wiped the woman’s chin with a napkin, whispered something into her ear, and clasped his hands over hers. He looked on her with love like the ocean, endless and crystal blue, as salt water trailed down his cheeks.

Fear shocked my heart like a cattle prod. A painful reminder of what my future could hold and how much I wanted to spare anyone from witnessing my demise.

I wouldn’t let myself fall for him. I had no business letting him inside, not after what my dad had told me. After Italy, he’d go back to California, and I’d leave for St. Louis. We’d take our memories and move forward. He’d live a long, happy life, have a slew of gorgeous children, and grow old with an exotic beauty at his side.

Me, I’d stay the course I charted for myself, because I didn’t know what else to do. I’d poured my heart and soul into school, all my hopes and dreams into becoming a doctor. I’d carry on until my body put on the brakes. But no matter what, I’d continue on alone. That was safest for everyone.

Lucas opened the door of the hotel, and I stepped onto the sidewalk, plopping my new fedora on my head.

“Cute,” he said, flicking the brim of the hat. “I like it.”

I sported a toothy grin and slid my sunglasses up my nose. “Thanks.”

“What’s the plan, Linebacker?” he asked, putting his hand on the small of my back.

I shrugged. “For once, I am without a plan.” I took in the busy, sun-drenched street, looking left and right. Boutiques and dozens of eateries lined the road, but I wasn’t really in the mood to shop or eat.

“What? No plan? I am bringing you over to the dark side.”

I turned to look at him just as three motor scooters flew by, observing no speed limit. “Geez, the people who drive those things are crazy.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow and smiled crookedly. “Why don’t we give crazy a try, then?”

“Huh?”

He nodded in the direction of the long-gone Vespas. “Let’s rent a bike for the day and go sightseeing.”

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “You are crazy if you think I’m getting on one of those things.”

Lucas nudged me with his elbow. “Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Drinking gross espresso is about as adventurous as I get.”

Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, “Please.” His voice was low and sexy. “I’ve already got the mental image of you straddling me from behind in my head, and I can’t think of a better way to spend the day.”

Umm…words? Gone.

The combination of his hot breath, deep voice, and the image of being pressed against Lucas’s back, him sitting between my legs, had me ready to give in to the crazy. “Okay,” I muttered.
God, why can’t I function like a normal human being around this guy?

“Awesome, let’s make it happen.”

We headed down the street in search of a place to rent a scooter, which I was sure wouldn’t be difficult—rental places were as plentiful as lemons in Sorrento.

“Do you even know how to drive a motorcycle?” I asked, getting more nervous by the minute.

“Look at you, all worried.” He slung his arm around my shoulders. “Yes, I have a bike at home. Living along the PCH, it’s kind of a must. You’re safe with me. I promise.” A throaty laugh rumbled in his chest. “This place looks good,” he said, coming to a stop.

“If you say so.” I knew nothing about renting a vehicle. I hoped he knew what he was doing. I took in the bright, modern-looking building with a showroom full of high-end motorcycles.

Walking inside, I took off my sunglasses just in time to see a gorgeous Italian salesman coming to meet us. “How may I help you?” he asked in a thick, panty-dropping accent. I was sure he could sell ghost peppers to the devil.

“We’d like to rent a bike for the day,” Lucas answered.

“Ah, yes. Right this way.” The salesman led us to a tall counter on the side of the room.

Shuffling some papers to the side, he smiled at us. “I have a few Yamahas left.” He pointed to vehicles on display behind us. “Similar to those.”

Lucas glanced over his shoulder, then back to the man. “Perfect.”

“Excellent.”

The gentleman brought out a stack of papers and he and Lucas went to work filling them out. Fifteen minutes later, the man was dropping a set of keys into Lucas’s hand. “Enjoy, Mr. Walsh.”

“Grazie,”
Lucas replied. He glanced at me, a big smile on his face. “Ready?”

No!
my inner voice screamed. “I guess so.” My heart kicked into high gear.

“You’re going to love it,” Lucas said, grabbing my hand.

“Want to follow me outside? We’ll get you on your way.” The man came from behind the counter, leading us toward the door.

Outside, a sleek black bike was parked at the curb. “Here she is. The Yamaha X-Max 250.”

Lucas’s face lit up like a kid in a candy shop as he ran his fingers over the handgrips. “Wow.” He whistled. “Nice.” Kicking a leg over the seat, he put the key in the ignition. “Hop on, Soph.” Twisting his torso around, he patted the seat behind him.

Why did I let him talk me into this?
Slipping on my sunglasses, I cringed as I straddled the bike. Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around his waist. Lucas helped me out, gripping my hands in his, making sure they were secured against his taut stomach. “Hold on tight!” he shouted, firing the engine. He was far too excited about this idea.

The machine rumbled to life beneath us. My stomach was in my throat.

Lucas waved to the salesman, revved the engine a few times, and looked over his shoulder before pulling onto the road.

Merging into the flow of traffic, Lucas took it slow, getting used to the feel of the machine. Weaving in and out of cars and buses, we were forced to stop at a red light.

Glancing over his shoulder, Lucas shouted, “See, it’s not so bad.”

I pulled off my hat and nodded. “Yeah, as long as you keep it under thirty miles per hour.”

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “We’re going to open this baby up as soon as we get out of town.”

Shit.
What had I gotten myself into?

The sun hung low on the horizon, kissing the sea as it slowly disappeared. Warm Mediterranean air blew my hair backward as I hugged myself to Lucas, resting my head on his shoulder. Today had been wonderful. He’d been right. I loved this. Our sun-drenched, windy drive along the Amalfi Coast Road was exactly what I needed.

The view from the back of the scooter was breathtaking. The sea was a giant, gleaming sapphire, sparkling in the sun. Italy rose majestically out of the water, the towering cliffs dotted with centuries old buildings painting a rainbow on the landscape. The engine hummed in my ears but didn’t mask the howl of the wind. This was freedom.

For the several hours we’d been gone, I’d been able to let go of everything weighing me down. Soaring down the road at seventy, sometimes eighty miles per hour, I was flying…rising up to meet the clouds. And for just a moment, I almost convinced myself that everything was going to be all right. With my lungs full of crisp salt air, adrenaline coursing through my veins, I let myself believe I’d live a full, long, happy life.

I drew in another breath, closed my eyes, and allowed myself to hope.

Lucas steered us back into town as the city’s lights twinkled to life. We turned in the direction of the hotel, Lucas weaving in and out of traffic. If there was one thing I learned today, it was that Italian traffic laws were more of a suggestion than a requirement. Even though I’d loved every moment of the day, I still questioned Lucas’s sanity for wanting to drive here. I was more than happy being a passenger, even though he’d tried to get me to drive a few times.

With our hotel a block up the street, Lucas pulled the scooter into an open space on the side of the road and killed the engine.

Putting a hand on my leg, he twisted his body around so he could see me, a huge smile on his face. “Well? Was it as bad as you expected? Were you disappointed?”

A smile broke onto my lips, and I shook my head. “It was amazing.”

He patted my leg as I kicked off the seat. I shook out my wind-tangled hair and plunked my hat back on my head. Lucas climbed off, too, coming to stand in front of me. I looked up at him, our eyes locked. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he said.

“It was perfect.”

His big, strong hands gripped my shoulders as he brought me close. Squeezing me in a tight hug, he pressed his lips to my forehead. My hat fell backward, tumbling toward the ground. With lightning-quick reflexes, Lucas caught it between his fingers, resting his hand against my backside.

“Oops,” he laughed, his warm breath spreading across the top of my head.

God, his smile was beautiful. His exuberance for life was magnetic. It was impossible to look at him and not feel the same way.

Lucas’s hand lingered for a beat longer. Then, slowly, he dragged it upward over my curves…the dip at the small of my back…the length of my spine…never taking his eyes off of mine.

I shivered. I couldn’t help it. He made me
want
in a way I’d never wanted before.

“You lost something,” his voice rasped as he dropped the hat back on top of my head.

“Glad you found it.” I smiled.

He breathed deeply, his chest expanding, as he hugged me tightly again. “Damn, you smell good.” He exhaled. “Like sunshine and fresh air.”

“Thank you for today.”

“Next time, I’m taking you out on the PCH.”

Next time.
I tried to hold on to my last shreds of hope. I wanted there to be a next time more than I wanted to take my next breath. But was that fair to him?

NO!
Old Sophia shouted, guilt boiling away what was left of my hope.

Lucas brushed a few strands of hair off my forehead. “I want to take you out tonight. What do you say we hit up one of the swanky clubs around here?”

“I’m not much of a dancer.”