Page 56 of One True Loves

I laugh and slap my knee.

“Oh, is that what my heartfelt compliments inspire? Derisive laughter?” He nuzzles me with his nose, and I can feel the smile on his face. “I take it back!”

“No, no, it’s nice,” I say, and he makes a face. “Really! I’m just not used to it... this, I mean, being authentic? It’s, like, a reflex or a defense mechanism or something. I’ve evolved this way after years of guys telling me this fluffy shit, but not really meaning any of it. It’s gonna take a while to adjust.”

“Well, you’re going to have to get used to it because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop telling you how beautiful you are.” He pulls his arm from my shoulders and strokes my cheek with his thumb.

I search for all of the warning signs. Marcus would never quite meet my eye. Jay would expect something physical in return.

But Alex doesn’t look away. And he treats our kisses like they’re something special and important, and not just the lead-up to something more.

I keep looking for cracks in the facade, because surely I don’t get this from the universe, this love story—orexcuse me, this really-really-like story. I’m not delusional. If someone up there made a mistake, though, I’m going to grab on and enjoy it while I can.

I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him close to me, pressing our lips together. I can taste his hazelnut gelato. Hewraps his free arm around my lower back, fingers drifting under the lace of my top. It lights up my chest and makes my stomach ache.

I pull away, raising up my camera to my eye and pressing the shutter button before he has a chance to smooth out his face.

“Hey!” he laughs.

“It’s gonna be a good one,” I assure him. And it is. The clear blue sky and the gleaming white church is behind him, and his eyes are half closed, with his thick lashes shading them. His lips are pink and full. I love it. The picture. I mean the picture, of course.

“Okay, take one of us now?” he asks. He gestures at my camera. “Does that ancient thing do selfies?”

“What, to remember you by?” I smile, leaning into that space between his neck and his shoulder that feels like it was meant for me.

“Sure, but I keep telling you, I’m going to be here after this cruise. You’re not going to get rid of me now that easily.” He scratches his head and twists his lips to the side. “But I mean that in a totally romantic way. I don’t know why it came out all... murder-y boyfriend about to be tackled by Mariska Hargitay onLaw & Order.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say, waving that away. I turn the camera around, hoping we’re in the frame. He kisses my cheek right as the camera flashes.

We sit in silence, cuddled close, as we wait for the picture to develop. And I can feel the anticipation between us, almost likewe’re waiting for this photo to tell us what this is, if we look as good together as we feel.

It delivers. The peaceful look on his face as his lips meet my cheek. His glossy curls mingling with my locs. My eyes all squinty in pure delight. It’s everything.

“Oh, that’s a good one. I think I might have to keep it for myself.”

“Um, yeah right, man. We’ve already established that it’s all mine. Plus, I’m not trying to give you more pictures for your creepy murder-y boyfriend board.”

His head falls back in laughter. I want to snap a picture of that too, but I resist. I only have so much film left, and if I try to capture everything that I like about him, I’ll run out before the end of the day.

“Am I that then... your boyfriend?” His face still has that mischievous smile, like he’s joking, but I can see the kernel of seriousness there.

And to be honest, it makes me a little nervous. Because I’ve never had a guy try to be all boo’d up with me this quick. This is the polar opposite of Jay, who strung me along for months, throwing out scraps of commitment. For the millionth time, I wonder,How can this guy be real?

“Okay, I can tell that freaked you out big-time, so I’m going to formally retract that question,” he says. He makes a weird noise with his mouth.

“What was that?”

“Rewind.Clearly.” He laughs. “Now we are currentlyin the time before I asked you that embarrassing, insecurity-revealing question—”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

He takes a lick of his gelato and then waves me away with his cone. “And I’m going to ask you a totally normal question instead. Can I look at your pictures from today?”

I laugh, grateful to let it go. “Sure.”

The ship docked earlier this morning, and we took a thirty-minute train ride out to Pompeii. Well, most of us did. Wally stayed on the ship, and my parents, infuriatingly, didn’t say a thing about it. I could tell they were mad, but of course they kept it cool and collected in front of the Lees.

I was honestly a little skeeved out about going to these ruins where so many people were killed by a volcano erupting, but Etta insisted. And itwasvery sad, seeing these freaky body casts where they legit poured plaster into the spaces left by bodies that disintegrated. But I’ll admit that parts of it were cool, too—walking through this ancient town that was preserved due to its tragedy. I ended up taking lots of pictures.

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