The Turning Point (8 page)

I
don’t know about you, but my feet are killing me,” Lucas said, falling into the train’s seat.

I sat beside him and nodded in agreement. The blisters on my feet had blisters, courtesy of the stone-paved streets. I also discovered my legs had muscles I didn’t know existed (and I knew of a lot of muscles).

“I can’t remember the last time I walked that much.” Sighing, I closed my eyes. Tired didn’t even begin to cover how I felt. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, take a shower, and collapse into bed.

“This was supposed to be my last day in Naples, but I don’t have the energy to pack up and leave tonight.” Lucas exhaled loudly and stretched his long legs out, propping them on the empty chair in front of him.

“You’re leaving?” My heart dropped into my stomach. I didn’t have a reason to be upset by this turn of events; we’d only spent five hours together. Albeit, the most enjoyable five hours I’d spent in the company of another person since Penley had died, but who was counting? “Where are you going?”

The rickety train groaned and creaked as it pulled out of the station and picked up speed. We’d be back in the heart of Naples in no time. I wished I had superpowers, a way to stop time.

God, did I.

“Sorrento…Amalfi…maybe Capri? I don’t know, haven’t decided yet.” He reclined his head, closing his eyes.

“What’s that like? Not knowing what you’re going to do next. Without plans, I’d go crazy.” Singular focus was the only way I survived. But I admired his carefree spirit and wished I had the guts to go where the wind blew me.

Lucas shrugged. “Hmm. I’ve learned from experience that plans can go south in the blink of an eye. At least this way, if I don’t have a plan, I have no expectations. I won’t be let down.”

“What happened? What plans went south?”

The train made a sharp curve to the left and the momentum forced me into Lucas’s side. He rolled his head to the left and looked down at me, grinning. Without a second thought, he raised his arm and draped it over my shoulders. Tucked beside him, my heart tried to beat against the viselike grip wrapped around it.

“See, I’d wanted to put my arm around you since we got on the train but kept talking myself out of it. My expectations were disappointing me, but fate stepped in and handed me the perfect opportunity.” He flexed his arm, squeezing me close.

My whole body stiffened, afraid if I moved, he’d pull his arm away. That was the last thing I wanted. I pulled in a long, steadying breath. He smelled like the outdoors—sunshine and wind…and something else…something masculine and uniquely him. Whatever it was, it was both intoxicating and comforting. All my earlier worries of him being a criminal disappeared.

“What about you? What are your plans?”

Shifting in the hard seat, I sat up straighter, clearing my throat. “I got here two days ago. I plan on staying in Naples this week. After that I plan to visit Sorrento, Salerno, Capri, and I have to make it to Battipaglia at some point, too.”

“A full itinerary. Do me a favor, though. Leave a little wiggle room in your plans for fate to step in.”

I cracked a smile. “Will do. I’m kind of flying by the seat of my pants on this trip anyway. I’m just certain of the places I want to check off my tourist list.”

“Battipaglia is on your list?” Lucas asked. “Not exactly a tourist hot spot.”

“My grandfather lives there.”

“Oh.” Lucas sat up.

“My father’s dad. I’ve never met him and my dad wants me to pay him a visit.”

“You actually have family here. That’s cool.”

Yeah, family I knew nothing about. Family I had no connection with. There was nothing cool about that. “What about you?” After he told me about Dean and WalStock, he got quiet, turned into a master of the fine art of changing the subject. “I’ve been the topic of conversation all day long. You know I live with my mom. You know I work at her gelato shop…” I held up a finger each time I ticked off a personal item we’d discussed. Then, rolling my eyes, I held up a third finger. “And I even offered up my sexual history, the whole awkward story.” My cheeks flushed with heat. I still couldn’t believe I’d told him the gory details of that awful night. I wanted to erase that conversation from existence, not to mention the whole terrible five minutes with Scotty. Yet, there was something about Lucas that made me want to open up to him…to tell him all my secrets…save one.

Lucas smiled devilishly, his eyes shining like bright blue stars. He shook his head. “Tragic.” Shifting in his seat, Lucas turned his body toward mine and scooped my hand between his. His eyes searched my face, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “All right, I’ll tell you a story, but I’ve got to warn you, you might find it sad.”

I nodded. “Tell me.”

Again, he shook his head, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds. I could see the struggle on his face like a war between his mind and his mouth. He didn’t like letting people in…just like me. “You’re sure?”

“Only if you are. If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to.” His struggle was real. This story was deeply personal.

“When I was ten, my mom and dad divorced. When it came time to divide the belongings, my mother went through the house and handpicked all the things she wanted to keep. Sitting quietly on the living room couch, I watched her, wondering which parent I was staying with that night. When they split, I’d been living with my dad. But I had friends whose parents were divorced and they went back and forth between their parents. I figured at some point I’d do the same.

“As I sat on the couch, I counted the times my mom passed by. Seventeen. She walked by me seventeen times and never once beckoned me to come with her. When she finished picking the house apart, she knelt down in front of me, Mr. Waddles in her hands, and looked me in the eyes. ‘Lucas, you’re a good boy, but right now, I need to be alone. You’re better off with your dad.’ She set Mr. Waddles in my lap, stood up, rounded the end of the couch, and walked out the front door. I never saw or heard from her again. Parents divorcing each other was one thing, but I’d never heard of one divorcing the kid, too.”

I was speechless. Dear Lord. How could a mother do that to her child? My dad had walked out on me, but at least he remembered to send me birthday and Christmas presents. Not a real dad, but he hadn’t disappeared completely.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That story was probably a bit much to unload on a stranger.” His arm flexed around me.

“No.” I cleared my throat. “No, I’m glad you told me. Misery loves company, right? My parents are divorced, too.”

I held his gaze. I was happy to have found a kindred spirit, but reality was a bitch, and this perfect day was an anomaly. As the train pressed toward Stazione di Napoli Piazza Garibaldi so did the end of our time together. In just a few minutes, I’d never see him again. As it should be, I guessed. I had no right to want more time with him. I didn’t even know him. Yet, selfishly, I did want more. In spite of my corrupted DNA, med school, and the fact that I knew very little about him, I still wanted more.

“Lucas, if Mr. Waddles is tied to such a sad time in your life, why keep him?”

He relaxed into the seat, his arm still around my shoulder. Looking upward, he blew out a loud breath, his internal war still raging. “It’s the only thing I remember her ever giving me. Aren’t gifts usually given to people you love?”

I nodded but stayed quiet. A heavy tension settled over us like a wool blanket on a summer’s day.

The train slowed, pulling into the station. It was the end of the line. Time for us to go our separate ways.

I wasn’t ready. I wanted more time.

In these last few weeks, time was the one thing that had become most precious to me. It didn’t seem I had enough time to do anything anymore. How much life could I cram into the little moments I had left? I was twenty-two; I wasn’t supposed to worry about how much time I had left. But as the train screeched to a halt, the clack of the wheels on the tracks resembled the slowing of a ticking clock.

The wool blanket threatened to suffocate me.

Once the train came to a stop, Lucas rose and I followed. His hand slid down my back as he ushered me toward the open doors.

The train station was still bustling with life despite the late hour. We navigated through crowds of tourists and locals, finally making our way outside the station. This was it, the inevitable good-bye. Today had been a beautiful distraction…just what I’d needed. I was silly to think anything more would come from today.

Lucas wrapped his strong hand around my elbow and pulled me to a stop. Facing each other, I looked up into his eyes.
Damn those eyes.
Even in the darkness they burned so brightly. “Where are you staying?” he asked.

I glanced to the southwest and pointed. “That way, I think. I’m at the Hotel Suite Esedra.”

“Can we walk from here, or should I flag down a taxi?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s close.”

“Good.” He looked up at the sky, then back at me, a bemused smile on his lips. “I’ll walk you back.”

Yes, please!
I wanted to shout. “That isn’t necessary, if it’s out of your way.” I shook my head.

Waving away my comment, he continued. “I kind of kidnapped you today. The least I can do is make sure you get back to your hotel in one piece.”

“Kidnapped me, huh?” I huffed, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “So the truth finally comes out. You are a criminal. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” I was sure to keep my tone light, joking. But when I saw the split-second flash in his eyes, my stomach tightened. I knew I wasn’t in danger, but trouble, yes. The kind of trouble that involved my heart. A kind of trouble I had no business welcoming into my life.

The walk back to my hotel was slow, deliberately so. I was in no hurry to put an end to the day, and by Lucas’s leisurely gait, I assumed he felt the same way. Where my feet would have welcomed the five-minute cab ride, I ignored their cries of pain and concentrated on the energy between my body and Lucas’s. That energy had grown to combustible limits, and our pace and the silence only added fuel to the fire. I’d never kissed a stranger before, but damn, I wanted to now.

Though we weren’t holding hands, we walked close enough that our arms brushed occasionally. Pressure built inside me like charged air right before a lightning strike.

I slowed and turned the corner, leading us down a narrow street that resembled a back alley more than an actual roadway.

“This is me.” I stopped in front of the small yellow-and-gray-sided hotel. There was an extraterrestrial glow on the sidewalk courtesy of the huge, green backlit letters spelling out the hotel’s name on the building’s façade. Sandwiched between two drab-looking apartment buildings, the Hotel Suite Esedra resembled a single ray of sunshine peeking through gloomy clouds. It was very quaint. Not five-star quality, but nice all the same.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Sophia.” Lucas held out his hand. After the intimacy of the day, it felt oddly formal that he’d want to depart with such an arbitrary good-bye.

Ask him to come inside,
a tiny voice echoed in my head. It sounded like mine, but with a hint of mischief, wanting, and confidence. The words were on the tip of my tongue.

I brought my hand to his, willing myself to speak as our palms touched. There it was again, the zing of electricity…an opened circuit…free-flowing energy.

Lucas pumped my hand gently up and down.

I felt like a battery; the energy of our touching hands recharged my courage and I opened my mouth to speak. “Would you—”

“What are you—”

We both paused, smiling, having spoken at the same time, then promptly apologized in unison. “Sorry.”

I dropped my hand from his and laughed. Lucas continued to smile, the dimple in his left cheek making it hard to concentrate.

Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him,
the voice in my head chanted.

He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

I was in Naples until Saturday; then I was headed to Sorrento. I knew which cities I wanted to visit, but had no formal itinerary, thanks to my mother and her insistence on me absorbing Italy at leisure, “off the clock,” as she had put it. I shrugged, fidgeting with the flap of my messenger bag. “I don’t know yet. Haven’t decided.”

Lucas stepped closer. “I thought you weren’t the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of girl.” A light breeze whistled in the alley, blowing a few escaped strands of my messy bun across my face.

“Usually I’m not.” My voice caught in my throat.

Lucas trailed his fingers over my cheeks…my temples, brushing my hair back into place. “You’re pretty good at it. Glad you bumped into me today, Linebacker.” He winked.

Kiss him, dammit!

“Thanks.” The lightning was about to strike any second, especially if he kept touching me.

He put his hands on my shoulders. “So, we tackled Pompeii today. Why don’t we hit the Naples National Archaeological Museum tomorrow? Oh, and have you had the pizza here yet? We need to get pizza.”

My heart paused midbeat. “I thought today was your last day in Naples. Aren’t you leaving?” He’d just said that on the train, but I prayed he’d changed his mind.

“Oh,” he drawled, “I think I can stick around another day.”

And my heart resumed beating, double time. Inside, a
woohoo
fought to be unleashed, but I swallowed it, biting down on my smile. “Great. That sounds great.”

I wanted to sing. I felt like a different girl. Post-Penley-Sophia was adverse to spontaneity, always shackled to a textbook or worrying about everything and anything. An über control freak. And in the last few weeks, she had every right to be a control-freak-worrywart of the most obnoxious kind. But right now…this trip…that Sophia was willing to take a backseat so
Sophia Italia
could have some fun…while the clock was still ticking.

The effervescing tingle in my veins was exhilarating. I could have gotten high on the feeling.

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up in”—Lucas smoothed his hands down my arms and examined his clunky gold wristwatch—“seven and a half hours?”