Page 1 of Bound to You

chapter one

ISLA

“I’m thinkingwe should probably move off the road before some sexy Italian man smashes into us in his fancy sports car,” May says from the passenger seat beside me.

A little hula girl bounces around in the hot sun on the dashboard of the VW Beetle, and I can’t help but feel like she’s mocking us as we sit here slowly melting in the middle of the road.

The car’s old school with a soft top. It’s classic, but the little beauty has turned out to be pretty useless. We’ve reached a premature stop in the middle of the road somewhere along the coast of Italy after it sputtered to a stop about an hour from the rental agency. And I, for one, do not have the specific skill set to revive it.

“I mean, it’s not the worst way to die, I guess, as long as Mr. Fernando is remorseful.”

I drag my eyes away from the hula girl to roll them at my best friend, holding back my grin at her stupid comment.

My eyes catch on the lush setting now surrounding us. A swift breeze weaves through the trees on either side of the road, the leaves whispering to each other as it passes through.

The paved road is a dark contrast to the burst of brightness at its edges. As quick as the inspiration for a painting comes to my mind, it fizzles out, the image watery in my mind. That’s been happening a lot lately. I haven’t had the desire to paint in weeks. It’s been fading more and more, even before the last thread of my ambition snapped three days ago.

I used to hold a paintbrush in my hand every day. I could be sitting there for hours without even noticing. I’ve loved it since I can remember—I was one of those kids who decorated the kitchen cupboards with crayon masterpieces.

I’ve never been a super ambitious girl. I never dreamed of climbing the corporate ladder or furthering an academic career, but art has always been the one thing I’ve connected with. It’s something that I didn’t necessarily have to be perfect at—it’s all up to interpretation, and I loved that. So when it came to a college degree, art was the obvious choice, the only choice.

For me, anyway.

Turns out my family didn’t share the same excitement that I did towards a career following my passions, and neither did my boyfriend Brandon.

My now ex-boyfriend, Brandon.

When May called me two weeks ago proposing an Italian summer, I brushed it off.Sun, sand, and pasta,she said. But I shut her down. We had only just graduated college, and I was planning on moving in with Brandon.

But when I came home to my parents and Brandon sitting around the dinner table, each with a serious look on their face, I quickly had a change of heart.

My dad and Brandon dug into me over a perfectly good roast about finding a ‘real career.’ What they meant was getting a job at a bank or something equally as financially stable and soul-sucking.

To them, my fine arts degree was a hobby, not the path towards my future success. That’s when the light winked out inside of me.

Since graduation, they had been acting weird, always asking me about getting a job, and tiptoeing around the subject. My confidence was already slowly waning, but that little intervention of theirs was where I drew the line.

I’m not usually the kind of person that lets someone else’s opinion affect me, but something about the way they talked to me that night just made me feel so small, made me second guess myself.

So that’s what this trip is about—reconnecting with myself, my goals, soul searching, whatever you wanna call it.

“Isla?” May waves her hand in front of me.

“Yeah, what? Sorry, I spaced.”

“Yeah, I got that much. We were talking about moving the car, remember? Trying not to get killed on our first day in paradise.”

“Right. Okay, you push I’ll steer.”

“I don’t thinkI can do this by myself,” May grunts as she attempts to shove the car so I can steer it off the road.

“Come on, May, you’ve got this. Use what your mama gave you!” I yell as she turns around, trying to use her ass to push the car.

“Seriously, Isla, Miles did us dirty by not being here when we need him,” she puffs, blowing her cropped blonde hair out of her face. It suits her so well, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly.

She used to have long, golden locks, but after college she chopped it all off, and she looks even more stunning with the shorter cut. She’s always had men turning their heads when she walks by, but now they practically trip over themselves to talk to her.

“Well, it’s not like we gave him much notice,” I yell back.

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