Page 51 of Second to None

“I mean...” His hand was still curled against the side of my neck. He let it fall to lie flat on the mattress. “We could take a few pictures, post them afterwards? Not while we’re there, though. We don’t want people figuring out where we are, right?”

“Levi, no.” I covered his hand and squeezed. “I actually meant that I wouldn’t want that. Just us is good. Nothing to do with... that.”

“Oh.” His body language shifted, just subtly—his foot brushing mine, gaze lingering on my face. “Okay, yeah. Good.”

“Good,” I echoed, and a small, crooked smile broke through his somber air.

“You’ll come, then?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Even if what we wanted were two different things, even if I might get hurt—I’d happily risk it for another chance with him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Wow,” he said with a chuckle. “Formal.”

I kissed the grin off his face, morning breath be damned, and it was another couple of minutes before he rolled out of bed, quickly gathering his clothes before he dashed off to meet his acts. There was a small, nearly invisible hickey just above the collar of his hoodie. I decided not to mention it.

The room plunged into silence once he’d left. I fell back onto the bed, into sheets that still smelled like him, and didn’t move for a long time. Sardinia, huh? Well, hey. Maybe a nice, big scoop of gelato would sweeten the potential heartbreak.

* * *

Olbia,Sunday, August 24th

Some thirty hours later, I stepped into a clean, salty breeze, the faint outline of hills in the distance. The sun was already tilting toward the horizon. A black rental car awaited us on the tarmac, Frank inspecting it with a critical eye while I greeted the guy who’d delivered it.

“Buenas noches!” I said, only to then wonder if that was Spanish. It had been months since my last show in Italy, and while I always tried to pick up a few words for the local crowds, I tended to forget half of them within a week.

The guy gave a polite nod, clearly not a man of many words, and went to help Frank with the luggage. I checked briefly whether the prearranged additional suitcase, filled with holiday essentials, was already sitting in the trunk, then shoved my sunglasses into my hair and slid into the car’s cool interior.

My assistant had outdone herself. She carried a gold iPhone and wore Louboutin heels, but I clearly wasn’t paying her enough. I leaned back in the plush leather seat and disabled my phone’s airplane mode to tell her just that. A message from Mason diverted my attention.

‘Italy?!?’

Funny how Levi and I had spent years hiding from the public, but when it came to the other guys, gossip traveled like it had frequent flyer miles to burn.‘Who told you?’I wrote back before composing a heartfelt ode of gratitude to my assistant.

Once Frank started driving, I put my phone down for a little while to enjoy the view. The road wound lazily through stretches of Mediterranean scrub, olive trees casting long shadows over the dusty asphalt. The island itself was bathed in golden evening light, and every so often, the landscape opened up to reveal glimpses of the rugged coastline.

When I checked my phone again, Mason had replied.‘Levi told Jace,’his text said as though it answered my question. It kind of did.

‘And Jace told you?’

‘And Ellis.’

Of course. I bit down on a smile.‘Should Levi and I start charging you guys rent for living in our business?’

‘We mean well.’

I glanced up when we turned off the main road onto a narrower path lined with stone walls. Bougainvillea seemed to spill out of nowhere, vivid pinks and purples catching the last light of the day.‘Funny enough,’I wrote back,‘I don’t actually doubt that.’

He replied with a string of hearts and pleased-looking emojis that might be ironic or maybe not. It was followed by,‘You know what you’re doing?’

Not even a little.

‘Did you ask Levi the same thing?’I replied instead.

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘Attorney-client privilege,’he shot back.

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