Page 50 of (UN)Bounded

After our breathing calms from that decadent quickie, we take a quick shower and then head downstairs for breakfast. The crew is already working on their different tasks for the day with bright smiles on their faces. I’d be a happy camper, too, if my view were an endless beautiful ocean.

“What’s the plan for today?” I ask Gabo after a dreamy bite of roasted salmon and capers on rye toast.

“I thought we could enjoy the yacht today, go for a swim. Have lunch on the yacht’s bow. Maybe you could get some inspiration and draw something? I know I’m always inspired so long as you’re with me.”

I melt on the spot. “That sounds like fun. You know what? I thought about something that I consider crazy and would love to do with you.”

Gabo’s eyes open wide, expectant about what I’m going to say next.

“Do you have jet skis?”

“Now I feel offended,” he scoffs, and I laugh.

“You’re right, silly me. So maybe we ride those for a while and then we swim?”

“Do you know how to use a jet ski?” Gabo asks.

“No, but I know you’ll teach me.”

“You’re absolutely right. Let’s go. We need to put our gear on,” he says as he extends his hand to me.

“What gear are we talking about, exactly?”

“Wetsuits, of course. The water will hit you like needles at the speed we’ll be going.”

“Hold on to you for dear life. Got it,” I tell him, and he laughs out loud.

“You’re adorable. Did you know that?”

“Among other things, yes,” I answer.

“Yes, adorable, confident, smart, determined, sexy, beautiful, kind. Should I keep going?” he asks as we get to our room. He then goes into his closet, looking for swimsuits, I assume.

“It’s doing great things for my ego, so I wouldn’t mind if you keep going,” I tell him with a giggle.

“I’ll never stop praising you, Bella mia.” He gives me a soft kiss as he hands me a wetsuitthat looks like the perfect size for me.

“Did you have this here already?” I ask, curious how he had it on hand.

“Yes, there are a bunch of sizes for both men and women. Anytime I had friends over, they could wear these. But now I’m going to order a custom-made wetsuit for you.”

I chuckle at his extravagance, but I know it’s a moot point to tell him no, so I leave it at that.

Gabo rides incredibly fast on the jet skis, and all I do is hold on tight to him. Even though I’m terrified of having a freak accident, I know I’m safe with him. After a few laps around the yacht, I feel more comfortable and let go of the vice grip I had on his middle. He slows down the jet ski and brings it to a halt.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, concern in his tone.

“Yes, G. Everything is great. I’m just feeling more comfortable now, so no need to hold on so tight to you.”

He releases a breath and moves around the jet ski until I’m in the driver’s seat. “Let’s go, principessa. Take us for a ride.” He places his hands on mine and shows me how to push the throttle as I let go of the brake. After a few tries, I get the hang of it and start riding around the yacht, faster each time. The time flies by, and before I know it, we’re having a candlelight dinner and watching the sunset. Another blissful day with my guy.

Tomorrow, we’re heading back to Bologna. Gabo has to go back to work, and I need to go back to my summer class. I’ve been trying to work on the project for Gabo’s firm, but the man refuses to let me work. I don’t want to look like I’m just taking advantage of my title as his girlfriend, so I’ve been waking up early to log in for at least a couple of hours of work each day.

Gabo decided to give the crew the day off so they could enjoy the island, leaving the yacht for ourselves. I’ve been sketching all morning. Gabo wasn’t lying when he said I could get lots of inspiration here. It’s been beautiful to see how the color of the ocean changes according to how the sun's rays hit the water. I’ve been trying to work on something I want to give Gabo for his office, but having him around all the time makes it difficult to surprise him. He has been sketching portraits of me, and I'm in awe of his talent. It’s been fun getting to know each other more. I always thought I enjoyed the silence while painting, but talking with Gabo has been a nice change.

“Hey, G. What was your favorite soccer team growing up?” I ask him. It’s unbelievable, but we’ve discussed every single topic under the sun, and we agree on most important things, yet we haven’t talked about soccer. I wonder if he’s not as into it as my brother Luca and his friends are.

“I grew up following La Católica, but to be honest, besides the Soccer World Cup, I don’t pay much attention to soccer anymore. What about you?”

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