Page 3 of Bound to You

“American?” The stranger’s eyebrow quirks up above the rim of his sunglasses.

“Sì,” May responds in anattemptedItalian accent, and I have to force myself to hold in the laugh that’s threatening to escape.

“Yes, we are. And we are actually totally fine here, so you can get on your way. We really don’t want to hold you up,” I say genuinely. We can sort this out by ourselves, we don’t need a man's help.

The corner of his mouth tugs up in a smirk. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you could use a hand here.” He moves past us, effortlessly switching to English. “Is this your car?” He inspects the Beetle.

“No, it's a rental.” I look over to May, and she looks just as unsure as I feel.

“Oh good, cause it’s a piece of shit,” he chuckles.

“Hey! It was running well for a bit. We can’t all afford a Ferrari.” May tosses her hair to the side, looking the guy up and down.

“Okay, well, you couldn’t expect it to last that long. I mean look at it.” He gestures towards it, sympathy now lacing his words.

The car is definitely on its last legs. The sky-blue paint is rusting off the exterior. Something was rattling the entire way here that was doing my head in, and the front left wheel has been wobbling pretty off center. But if you don’t look at it too hard, it’s perfect. Plus, with our trip being so last minute, we didn’t have much choice; it was the only car left in the yard.

“Well, look, there’s nothing you can do about it now,” he says when he’s met with silence. “Let me help you move it off the road and then I can drive you wherever you need to be.”

“No, really, we can just call a tow service,” I argue.

He ignores me, and May and I share a confused look as he drops his jacket in the back seat of the car and starts rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. God, that’s sexy. I swear any man could do that andboom, immediate sex appeal.

I suddenly don’t mind this whole damsel in distress thing.

With his forearms now on full display, he tries to direct the car off the road.

For all his confidence, the guy hasn’t moved the car an inch.

He mutters a quiet,what the fuck?under his breath, before turning to see May and me watching him in amusement.

He frowns before walking around to the driver's side with a puzzled expression. His features lift as he reaches into the car, and it immediately jostles.

“No wonder it wasn’t budging; the handbrake was on.”

Oh god.

I can feel a flush creeping up my neck as I cover my face with my hands and throw my head back with a groan, bracing myself for the slander I’m about to receive.

May lets out a cackle. “Oh, this is good.” She can barely get the words out and I can barely keep a straight face.

“Okay, okay.” I roll my eyes, holding my hands up in innocence.

“You know I hate to do this to you, Isla, but…I told you so,” May says with a grin as she shrugs her shoulders.

“Okay, you’re the one who picked this car so...”

She waves me off before I jump back in the front of the car, leaving her to push with Fernando.

After successfully movingthe Beetle to the side of the road where it won’t get absolutely totaled, I brush my hands off on my jeans—definitely a wardrobe mistake given the beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

“Is it a national holiday or something? No one has come down here in ages.” May looks over to our new companion, who’s now leaning against the car, his hands in his pockets.

“We’re not in a super busy area here. We’re actually just outside of a small historic town.” Great, we broke down in a secluded area—the perfect spot to be murdered and no one would ever know. “Where are you ladies headed?”

“Sorrento.” May brushes her hair behind her ear after the wind has pasted it to her face.

“May!” I scold. We’ve spent too many late nights cuddled up under a blanket watching true crime documentariesnotto be hesitant right now, and we especially shouldn’t be telling a stranger where we are headed.

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