Page 55 of Tender Temptation

Maybe it’s time for me to try to move past Cillian. Pierlo is very easy on the eyes. He’s kind, sweet, and an accomplished sculptor. He’s also my age.

Lucia exchanges a knowing glance with Matteo and suddenly stands up. “Well, I think it’s time for us to go check out the exhibit, don’t you, Matteo?”

“Absolutely. Ivy, Pierlo, enjoy the rest of your evening.Ciao.” Matteo waves as he follows her down a side street.

Before I can say goodbye, they’re gone, leaving us alone. An awkward silence falls over us, broken only by the clinking of cups and murmured conversations from nearby tables.

“Ivy, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now.” Pierlo leans forward and takes my hand.

My heart skips a beat. “Oh? What is it?”

“I’ve admired you for a long time. Not only as an artist, but as a person. You’re talented, and beautiful.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been too shy to say anything, but I would love to take you out. Would you consider it?”

The sincerity in his eyes is touching, I appreciate his courage in speaking up. “Pierlo, how nice of you.”

“But?” he prompts gently.

“I moved to Florence after my heart was broken. I don’t know if I’m ready for anything serious.” I choose my words carefully because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. “I’m still figuring things out.”

He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “I understand. I only wanted you to know how I feel. No pressure.”

“I appreciate it more than you know.” I squeeze his fingers.

We finish the pizza and our drinks, chatting comfortably about our classes. Pierlo holds my hand as he walks me back to my flat. It’s nice. I like him. As we reach my door, he leans in and kisses me softly. I close my eyes, waiting for a spark, the feeling of soul connection.

But there’s nothing. No attraction. No magic.

He pulls back and I muster a smile. “Goodnight, Pierlo. Thank you for tonight.”

“Goodnight, Ivy.” His eyes search mine for something more. But I turn and head inside, closing the door gently behind me.

I kick off my shoes and head to the bathroom to wash up and put my pajamas on. As I brush my teeth, I can’t shake the emptiness I felt during Pierlo’ s kiss. He’s wonderful, but he’s not Cillian. No one ever will be.

Why can’t I be a normal twenty-year-old and hook up with different people without a second thought for the fun of it? I crave the freedom to move on, to let myself be swept away by someone new, but my heart stubbornly clings to Cillian with a grip I can’t seem to loosen.

I’m being ridiculous, holding on to these feelings. It’s not like he’ll give me another chance. He said so himself.Cillian has probably been with a million women since me. I can picture him now, effortlessly charming. Drawing attention to him like moths to a flame.

The thought of Cillian with someone else twists a knife in my gut, making me feel foolish and naïve. The problem is, no matter how much I convince myself to let go, memories of how we were are seared into my soul. I misseverythingabout him.

Even though Ishouldmove on, my heart isn’t ready to let go.

It’s early, but I decide to go to bed and watch a movie. Halfway through, my phone buzzes—my parents are FaceTiming me from Seattle.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” I angle the phone so they can see I’m safe at home.

“Hi, sweetheart.” I see they’re sitting in my dad’s home office. “How was your day?”

I shift to my side and prop my phone up on my nightstand. “It was fine. I was out with some friends from school. We had coffee and pizza near the Duomo.”

“Sounds wonderful.” My dad has lost a bit of weight and he looks tired.

Rather than bring up his appearance, I use my father’s patented vague question tactic to shift subjects. “How are things going with the build?”

“Eh—I’ve got to say, construction is going well.” His face brightens. “We’re ahead of schedule. Cillian’s father took over for a bit during his health scare. He’s stayed on to help. We’re not only back on track, Rory’s stayed on. He’s a hoot.”

Every cell in my body freezes at the mention of Cillian, but I have to keep my composure. “Sounds terrible. What kind of health scare?”

“Eh—it’s fine now.” Dad waves his hand in front of his face. “The project is moving along faster than expected.”

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