Page 14 of The Fear of Falling
If I could think of any, I would, but I will be missing out on this chance to impress the hot man. Though, it doesn’t seem like I need to do that. He has already admitted he’s interested, which is hard for me to swallow. This guy is sexiness incarnate, and I’m an uptight publisher who owns too many pairs of slacks and forgot how to go through life without a plan. “Honestly,” I say with a shrug, “I don’t know anything about art. I’m more of a literature and architecture kind of gal.”
“That’s what I thought. Come on.” He holds out his hand.
I stare at it, trying to understand what in the world is happening right now. This man came out of nowhere, took a picture of us kissing—well, he did the kissing—stole my phone, and now he’s looking at me with the kind of look you don’t see except in movies and novels where the dashing hero grabs the innocent heroine and tells her to go with him if she wants to live.
Chuckling, Benson shifts closer, his hand still at the ready. “Relax, Avery. I’m just offering to help you live life in a different way from what you’re used to. A little spontaneity won’t hurt you.”
“But what if it does?” I can’t stop myself from asking. The more important question: what if letting go leaves me worse off than when I started? I can’t remember when I started living with caution, but it has served me pretty well for a while.
Hasn’t it?
“Whatever turned you scared,” Benson says, his voice low, “it didn’t follow you here to Italy. You have a week to be free and let the real Avery have her time in the sun.” He quirks his lips up in that irresistible smile of his. “Don’t waste it.”
How is a girl supposed to argue against that?
Chapter 6
Benson
Distance.Emotionaldistance.Ithas to be my best friend right now or I might be walking myself right into the sort of attachment I’ve spent my life trying to avoid. But Avery is not making it easy on me as she admires yet another Florentine building.
I still don’t know anything about her, but she has somehow made herself the most interesting part of Florence. All we’ve done is wander the city—my all-time favorite way to explore—but she has this way of seeing everything that gives her a sort of childlike quality.
Whoa. No. Definitely not that. I’m not looking at this woman like I would a child.
She’s…innocent? Still not the right word. Not naive. Full ofwonder.
Yeah, I guesswonderfulis as good a word as any.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, or…?”
I smile wide at Avery’s question, not at all embarrassed by being caught. Ever since we got to the Basilica di Santa Croce a few minutes ago, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her while she keeps her gaze on the sunbathed church. I figured taking her around the city would be fun, but this is more fun than I’ve had in a long time. Enough so that I lied to Riccardo and told him I had some work to get done this afternoon and would have to miss the winery tour everyone is doing.
Maybe it’s crazy to skip out on the whole reason I came to Italy, but this week is a vacation for me, just like it is for Avery. I get so few real vacations that I want to make the most of this trip, and right now that means unabashedly admiring her. After the things she said about me to her sister? I’d be an idiot not to take my shot.
“Are you going to spend all day with me?” I ask instead of answering her question.
Tilting her head to one side, she looks from me to the basilica as crowds of people wander around us. People I’ve barely given any thought to even though I usually pay attention to who’s around me. As far as I’m concerned, we’re completely alone in the square. “I guess that depends on if you know of more places like this.”
Did she really plan to spend all afternoon in an art gallery? I have nothing against art and the talent it takes to make it, but as soon as she told me her plans, my gut knew Avery wanted something more substantial. My guess is the gallery was her ex’s idea and non-refundable, like her flights. The moment she said she was going to the Uffizi, the light in her eyes dimmed. Sure, the gallery has its own architectural points of interest, but nothing compares to places like this. The contrasting colors on the facade of the church are the epitome of Florentine vistas.
“Are you kidding?” I say and bump my shoulder into Avery’s. “Have you forgotten this is Florence? You can’t walk a block inthis city without running into something beautiful.”Especially if you’re walking with someone like Avery.
Whether she catches my unspoken thoughts in my expression, Avery blushes and tucks an arm around herself. “For the record,” she says, waving toward the basilica, “this was on my itinerary.”
“For the record, it would have been a lot less fun if you’d come here without me.”
“We’re just standing here, Benson. I have a tour scheduled.”
Then I’d better make this more interesting. Slinging an arm around her shoulders, I nudge her a few steps closer to the building, where a group has gathered around a tour guide who’s talking about the building’s design. I bend down and speak in Avery’s ear. “There are a bunch of old dead guys inside that everyone likes to talk about.”
She shivers, leaning into me. “That is the worst way to talk about da Vinci and Dante. A bunch of old dead guys?”
I chuckle. “If you already know who’s inside, why bother putting it on your list?”
“Because I want toseeit!” She waves an arm again, like that gesture speaks more than she could say with words. “I mean, look at it!”
I would, except I’m too busy looking at her as she once again becomes enraptured by the architecture. Her light auburn hair has been slowly slipping from the bun she twisted it into this morning, and a strand of it hangs right where my hand is resting on her shoulder. My fingers itch to start playing with that bit of hair, but I worry it will overwhelm her again if I pull a move like that. In all honesty, there are a lot of moves I’ve been wanting to pull since running into her earlier, but she’s made it clear that my interest confuses her.
