Page 19 of The Fear of Falling
The square goes quiet.
For a moment we’re frozen in time, neither of us blinking, neither of us breathing, and I feel like I’m on the edge of a precipice, wondering which way we’re going to fall.
A group of tourists starts clapping as the last of the bells’ ringing fades. Benson pulls away, an unreadable look on his face as he slips his hand from mine and runs it through his hair. “Uh, I should head back to the hotel.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.”
Wincing, he seems to search the crowded square for some sort of explanation as he takes a step back, putting more distance between us than we’ve had since yesterday morning. “There’s some wedding stuff tonight, and I should be there for that.”
What happened to the guy who was willing to skip out on the wedding altogether? Did I do something wrong?
“I can take you back with me, but… You should do the tour,” he says and holds out my phone, his fingers barely touching it so there’s no way our hands can brush when I take it. Taking the phone back feels symbolic somehow, and I don’t like it. I thought for sure he was about to kiss me, but something changed. Did the bells break the magic spell?
Oh goodness, what if they put us under a spell in the first place when we were in the taxi driving in? Benson has been way too attentive over the last couple of days—there’s no way that’s normal. This could have all been a fluke, and now Benson has been snapped out of the madness.
Looking down at my phone, I glance through the dozens of notifications waiting for me, most of them from Eric and some of the people we work with. There are a couple of texts from Dani, and the partial preview of her latest message makes me wonder if she’s part of the reason Benson almost made a move.
Dani:
It’s been way too long since she last had a good ki…
“I’ll…” I don’t know what to say right now, standing in the middle of a crowded square with a ton of awkward tension between me and the man I was so ready to kiss a moment ago. “See you around?”
Grimacing, he gives me a nod that isn’t at all reassuring. I didn’t believe in magic spells before, but Benson’s one-eighty just now has convinced me that all of this was the result of some strange wizard who needed a laugh. “Can you get back on your own?” he asks.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Right.” He scratches his scruffy jaw, looking anywhere but at me. “Have…have fun.”
Goodbye, whirlwind romance. You were fun while you lasted.I watch him walk away until he vanishes into the crowd, and then I pull up my text thread with Dani. There isn’t nearly as much conversation as I expected, and most of it is pictures that Benson took of me. The last text doesnotsay what I thought it did.
Dani:
It’s been way too long since she last had a good kindred spirit to spend time with, and from what I can tell, you’re a lot like the sister I used to know. Thanks for getting her out of her shell. She looks happy.
The text was unread, so I don’t know if Benson ever saw it, but nowhere in these back-and-forth messages are there any texts from my sister that could be classified asjuicy. She did tell him my middle name, but not because he asked. It was in response to one of the pictures and she used my first and middle name as a reaction, complete with a million exclamation points.
Confused and a little disappointed, I pull up my booking for the Duomo tour and make my way to the entrance.
At least I’ll end the day on a good note.
Chapter 8
Benson
“Iaminsomuch trouble.” A crowded rooftop restaurant is not the place to have this conversation, particularly because Riccardo is here with all of his family and closest friends, but I’m out of my depth here. Hence why I have pulled my buddy aside and said the most out-of-context thing I could say.
Riccardo lifts an eyebrow, leaning against the wall overlooking the twilit city. “What kind of trouble are we talking here?”
This is going to sound so stupid, especially from me. “I might be falling for Avery.” Leaning my elbows on the wall, I stuff my hands into my hair and wait for him to pass judgment. When he says nothing, I look over and find him staring at me with one eyebrow raised.
“Who’s Avery?”
Ah right, he hasn’t been living my life the last two days. In fact, he hasn’t seen me except for half a second this morning when I stumbled out of his second cousin’s room, where I will unfortunately be spending the week. The guy seems niceenough, but his room only has a queen size bed. I’m man enough to share a bed when I have to, but Riccardo’s cousin sleeps in the buff, and that sight was not something I needed first thing in the morning.
Or ever.
“The woman I met on the plane,” I say, shaking my head.
