Page 49 of Giovanna

As the smoke around us clears, I see Elio watching us. His eyes flick from Sammy rubbing sunblock on her thighs to Bluey reclining next to me and over to me.

“Shotgun?” I quirk my eyebrow at Sammy and she grins. I pluck the joint from Bluey’s large lips and draw on it hard. Meeting in the middle as we hover over the big redhead, I grab Sammy’s chin and seal my lips over hers. Thick smoke pours from my mouth to hers, the smell of damp lawn clippings surrounding us.

Whoops and cheers sound from a group of guys nearby, but Elio doesn’t react.

Bluey passes the joint back to me after taking a few more puffs. The way he settles back cradling his head, it looks like he’s going to allow the weed to float him off to the land of nod.

“Nap time, you big baby?” I ask and he gives me a cheeky grin, nodding.

Sammy climbs over him and we finish the joint together sitting cross-legged and that’s how Giovanna finds us an hour or so later. Seriously stoned and subtly moving to the music.

“Is Bluey still alive?” Giovanna frowns as she approaches.

I want to kiss the lines that are gathering between her brows. She is the most perfect human I’ve ever seen. No makeup and with her hair pulled into a top knot she is wearing board shorts that come to her mid-thigh and a sporty black bikini top. I’m thankful for my dark sunglasses because I am drinking in her body slowly and thoroughly.

She used to have a full six-pack with a V leading to her pubic area. Now, at 38, she still has her upper abs but her lower stomach has softened a little. I want to kiss that tiny soft pouch of fat that sits between her hips too.

“Francesca, are you alive?” She waves a hand in front of my face.

“Oh sorry, I thought I answered you,” I giggle. “Bluey’s stoned. Just having a nap.”

“You’re stoned too, princess,” she remarks wryly, winking at Sammy.

“Oh my god, seriously! You’re the third person to call me princess today. Do I give off brat vibes or something?”

She chuckles which makes me happy because extracting smiles and laughs from her is my favourite challenge. “Nothing to do with brattiness, darlin’. You’re just regal. Take it as a compliment.”

Giovanna shoos us over to make room for her on the daybed and Sammy lights up another joint, passing it to me when she’s taken a few drags. I blow smoke away from Giovanna’s face and picture giving her a shotgun too.

I hold out the half-smoked joint, offering it to her, but she shakes her head and waves her e-cigarette. The way she reclines, running her gaze over the party while she puffs on her vape, has my pulse settling between my legs. The power and confidence she exudes is intoxicating.

My stoned brain conjures a fantasy where I’m kneeling in front of her, her hand roughly in my hair. I shudder. The idea of bending over for her or being dominated by her drives me fucking wild. The rapid dampening of my little white bikini bottoms is evidence of that.

I turn to look at her and find she’s watching me already. Panic runs through me for a second until I remind myself she can’t read my thoughts. I should stop smoking weed.

The party starts to thin out as some leave to head into town and others go home to crash, wasted from day-drinking. Bluey woke up a while ago, around the time Matty and Massimo arrived home.

We forgo the catering and order a pile of fish and chips that we demolish sitting on the daybed. My face aches from smiling and laughing so much and I can’t remember the last time I felt so content or like I belong.

These are good people.

Even if I’m pretty sure they’ve all killed people before. Even Massimo. I found a gun in his glove box the other day and realised that he is just as much a gangster as his siblings. Not Sammy though. Unless she has a secret past she hides from everyone.

The worst thing about day becoming night is that I have to take off my sunnies and can no longer stare at Giovanna without being noticed. The best part is that when she goes to get herself a sweater, she brings one back for me too and it smells like her.

She catches me smelling it as I pull it over my head so I mumble, “Smells so good.” She always smells divine. Not too feminine and not too masculine, she smells fresh with a slightly heavier patchouli note. There’s a tinge of leather there too.

My contentment is only disrupted by the performance Elio and Madame Alcopop are putting on across the pool from us. As their group disperses, they remain glued to each other. The sexual tension between them is electric.

“Look at them. This is insane, G. Why do I have to marry him?” I gesture toward her brother, but I immediately regret saying anything. She looks so uncomfortable. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s fine,” she sighs. “I know this is shit. I’m sorry he’s treating you like this.”

“He’s a cunt. I know he’s your brother and all, but seriously, what a fucking arsehole,” Sammy interjects.

“I never bought into fairytales and all that,” I sigh. “But I thought I might end up with someone who at least likes me enough to want to spend time with me. All these experiences I thought I would have, I just won’t get now… I’ve never even been sent flowers, you know?”

“No one ever bought you flowers? Is that important to you?” Giovanna’s frowning, trying to understand.

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