In a Heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) (6 page)

“I wouldn’t miss the local derby for anything. Count me in.”

Sampdoria vs Genoa? In the summer? Wow – Stella had wanted to be able to see a game, but she never hoped it would be the epic derby, since it was out of season. Her face must have showed exactly how excited she was, because Beppe narrowed his unnerving brown eyes at her and cocked his pierced eyebrow.

“You like football?”

“Yeah.” She tried to sound nonchalant, because it always threw people off guard. Football had been her passion since she was a little girl, thanks to her dad and Eric. Her brother had been an avid Liverpool fan and had taken her to numerous games. His enthusiasm had always been very addictive and, before she knew it, Stella had become as obsessed as he had been. After he died, she felt it was her duty to continue his allegiance to his favourite team. She felt that if he could see her, he’d be proud.

“So which team are you going to support at the match?” Beppe asked, testing her.

“Genoa. No question about it.”

It was the wrong answer, because Beppe’s face fell. On the other hand, Max’s lips spread into a lazy smile. So maybe it was the right answer after all.

“Just a piece of warning – the supporters of the losing team are buying the beer afterwards.” Beppe relaxed back in his chair, thinking he was off the hook.

“Better bring your wallet, then,” said Stella, as Max and Gia laughed. Beppe’s face grew serious, and Stella felt she had struck a chord and was about to be tested further.

Bring it on.

“Do you even know what colours Genoa wear?” Oh, she wasn’t a proper fan, was that it? Her opinion didn’t count?

“Red and blue home, white with red and blue stripes away.”

Beppe gaped involuntarily and Stella took her chance to strike again. “And before you say anything else, if it wasn’t for us Englishmen who came over here and
made
you a football club, your most popular sport would probably be beach volleyball. That’s why I’ll be supporting Genoa on Saturday – it’s the first football club in Italy, founded by Englishmen in 1893 and still proudly wearing St George’s cross on its shirts.”

Silence. Beppe was speechless. Max was amazed. Gia and Lisa had left to clear the table of the empty dishes without Stella noticing.

Beppe managed to sort out his thoughts after a few seconds and if Stella could judge by the wicked twinkle in his eyes, he was ready with his comeback.

“Speaking of flags, you English people should thank
us
, the people of Genoa, for lending you
our
St George’s flag when we protected your fleet while sailing our waters in the twelfth century,” he said, and smirked, proud of himself for that reply.

“We weren’t speaking of flags per se, we were speaking of football. Don’t try to lead the conversation in another direction. In fact, you should probably thank me right now, since I’m a representative of the nation that gifted football to your country. If you do, I might just overlook that fact that you’re bad-mouthing the very reason Italian football even exists.”

Max let out a throaty laugh and it was the sexiest thing Stella had ever heard. It filled her whole body with waves of pleasure and she struggled to remain calm and impassive, when what she really wanted to do was close her eyes in bliss. Her eyes darted in Max’s direction and he tipped his beer bottle towards her, before taking a sip. He kept his eyes on her as he drank, his Adam’s apple going up and down in his throat. Stella’s lips parted as she saw herself placing a kiss just below his jaw line and sucking on the tender flesh.

Stop it! Friends, remember?

“How about
you
thank
me
? We gave your country a fucking national flag!” Beppe’s voice was serious, but amusement played in his eyes.

“OK, I will. As long as you thank me for football.”

He eyed her incredulously.

“Well? Do we have a deal?”

“Over my dead body.” Beppe pronounced every word slowly and carefully and Stella couldn’t hide her smile. “Did he put you up to this?” he asked, pointing at Max.

“What? No!”

“Are you sure? Because it sounds awfully like something his half-English ass would say.”

Half English? That explained a lot.

“I’m going for a smoke.” Beppe stood up, taking out a box of cigarettes from his back pocket, and headed away from the table.

“You really got to him; he only smokes when he’s extremely frustrated,” said Max, boring his eyes into Stella’s. It was getting dark outside and without any light to reflect they looked almost black.

“Sorry. I just get a bit over-defensive when someone suggests I’m not ‘a proper fan’, because I’m female.”

“He never said that.”

“It was in his eyes.”

Max smiled and inclined his head to the side, the intensity of his stare melting any thought and reason in Stella’s brain. She would have given anything to find out what he was thinking.

*

Max’s head was filled with images of Stella, and in all of them he was much closer to her than he was now.

He’d spent just a few hours with her, but it was enough to draw some conclusions about her – she was smart, fun, with a great sense of humour; she knew who she was and was comfortable in her own skin; she respected other people, but held her own when it came to expressing her opinion; she liked football. Could she get any more perfect?

I doubt it.

“You read people well, don’t you?” he said in response to her previous statement. He’d caught her assessing everyone at the table with those greyish-green eyes of hers. She hadn’t been obvious about it, but Max couldn't miss it because he was looking at her the whole time.

“Sometimes.”

“Can you tell what I’m thinking now?” He knew he was teasing her terribly and prayed she’d take the bait.

“Pretty much.”

“You wanna share notes?”

“I’d rather not.” It wasn’t the response he was hoping for, so he raised an eyebrow in question.

“Why not? You might be right.” He was pushing his luck and he knew it, but she drove him crazy. He wanted to jump off that damn chair, pull her to her feet and kiss her until they both didn’t have any breath left.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Stella stood up, gathering some napkins in an empty plate. “I’d better go help Lisa ...”

He was on his feet and next to her in a second.

“Stella ...” he began, liking the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“Max, don’t. Stop flirting with me; you know there’s no use.” She looked up at him and her expression grew serious and determined.

“Why?”

“Because of Lisa.”

She didn’t have to elaborate. Max wasn’t stupid; he knew what she meant and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He had tried to play it cool over dinner, but when they were alone he couldn’t help it. Max couldn’t remember when the last time was that he’d been so attracted to someone.

“Look, I’m here for two months and all I want is to relax and have a good time. You and I ...” she circled her hand between them, touching his midriff and making his abs flex involuntarily, “it has too many complications. Why don’t you show me the real you, not the cheeky Casanova? I’d like to get to know you and find out why Lisa counts you as one of her closest friends. Let’s just drop the act and be friends.”

He wouldn’t mind being friends with her. With benefits.

But, yeah, she was right.

*

Niki came home just as everyone was leaving. She looked exhausted – running her own business had its benefits, but it also meant she had to work almost round the clock. They talked for a bit while she had some dinner in the kitchen and then excused herself to go to bed.

“Want some camomile tea?” Lisa asked as she put the kettle on.

“Yeah, thanks.” Stella texted her mum, because she knew that Helen would love to hear from her, but would like to give her some space and wouldn’t call to check on her every single day. As she put her phone on the table, Stella realised the only sound that could be heard in the whole house was the boiling water.

Lisa had her back to her, staring at the kettle.

“Hey. You OK?” All she got was a nod. “Are you worried about me and Max?”

Lisa’s shoulders slumped and Stella knew she’d hit the bull’s eye. Her cousin was too considerate to say anything, but she was uneasy. Stella stood up and went to her.

“Lis,” she touched her shoulder to make her turn and face her. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. I didn’t know who he was and neither did he know me. But now that we do – we’re going to be friends. He seems like a really great guy and I’d love to get to know him and see what
you
see in him.”

“But ... what you said before, about how much you were attracted to him ...” Lisa’s green eyes sparkled with worry and uncertainty.

“I think every woman with eyes would be attracted to him. Look at him! I have no idea how you’ve never felt anything for him ...”

“You’re not making this any better,” Lisa said, but she relaxed a little and even smiled.

“It’s cool, Lis. I can look beyond that. I can be friends with him, with all of them.” Lisa nodded and her whole face lit up in a smile as if a thick fog had been lifted. “Besides, my guess is there are
plenty
of other guys to lust after here, right?”

“You have no idea.”

They giggled as they stirred some honey into their tea.

Chapter Five

The next day Lisa was determined to make up for the last few days and spend the whole day with Stella. She had moved her shifts around and would have to work the whole day tomorrow, but today the girls had all day to themselves.

Lisa took Stella for a walk in Genoa’s old city. It was the biggest historical city centre in Europe, as Lisa pointed out. An incredible number of small streets and alleys, called
caruggi
, tangled together like a bowl of spaghetti and weaved through the whole place. Stella felt as if they were transported right back to medieval times and couldn’t believe such a beautiful, peaceful place turned into a bubbling pot of criminal activity at night. Lisa explained that the old city was alive with tourists, shops and restaurants during the day, but once the sun set it turned into a top spot for prostitution and the drug trade.

Everywhere she looked, Stella saw incredible buildings such as churches, palaces and museums, lavishly built to attract attention. Among them, the brightly coloured houses stood out, but strangely complemented the extravagance of the other buildings. The place was truly magical – it had energy buzzing through it, some kind of overbearing, overwhelming atmosphere that Stella had never experienced before.

After they spent a couple of hours wandering around and exploring the old city, the girls got a taxi and headed for the
Centro Commerciale Fiumara
– the biggest shopping centre in Genoa. It was located in the district of
Sampierdarena
, which used to be a huge industrial zone, but had been remodelled and rebuilt into this enormous, modern mall. It even had its own amusement park, as well as a cinema, a ton of shops and restaurants. The summer sales had already started and the girls took full advantage of that, killing a few more hours.

The weather was gorgeous outside and after a quick pit stop at home for a light lunch, bags drop-off and change of clothes, they headed for the beach. Lisa had taken Stella’s determination to get a nice tan to heart and had convinced her to buy a bikini that was so skimpy it ought to have been banned. It was black with gold embellishments that sparkled in the sunlight and seemed as if it moved – almost as though it were alive. The bottom was cut off at the hips and tied with tiny strings; the top consisted of two triangles held together by a couple of black ribbons. Stella was naturally slim, but after her diagnosis she had put extra care into her diet and exercised every day, so her body could definitely pull off the bikini. She did feel kind of exposed at first, but decided to roll with it.

I hope Max likes it. Or rather, me in it.

The thought came so out of the blue that it made Stella stop in her tracks and shake her head.

FRIENDS! Remember? He’s a great guy; get to know him. You can drool after a thousand other guys on the beach.

Determined to follow her own advice, Stella pulled her sunglasses over her eyes as they headed for the beach.

*

Max saw her immediately. Her bikini moved in sync with her body as if it was liquid. She had four ties – two on the hips, one on her back and one behind her neck. He imagined pulling them free with two swift movements and the bikini melting away. Just then he noticed that Stella had a tattoo – three Japanese symbols lined right under her left shoulder blade. Max wondered what they meant and, in his mind, traced the delicate lines with his fingers, making her shiver with desire and anticipation.

This was so not the time to think about that – first, he was at work and second, the orange lifeguard shorts were not as forgiving in disguising a boner as the black ones had been.

If Lisa was so uncomfortable with him and Stella hooking up, then why did she bring her here? Twenty metres away from his station? The beach was so big, they could have gone anywhere and he wouldn’t even know.