What Happens Abroad (9 page)

I took a shaky breath. “I'm okay. Joelle, um, this is Hunter.”

Her eyes widened and she stared at him in disbelief. “What's he doing here?”

Hunter coughed, and I shrugged. “Just traveling, I guess.”

He didn't contradict me, and I was glad. If he thought we'd have some magical, romantic reunion, he was going to be disappointed. Even if he had come all that way to find me, I was still reeling from the sight of him. My heart was pounding erratically, and my mouth was suddenly dry. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Joelle eyed me critically. Finally, she stuck out her hand. “I'm Joelle. Camie's . . . mentioned you.”

Hunter grinned sheepishly. “She probably told you I was an ass.”

“Yes,” Joelle said, not beating around the bush. “Are you?”

Before Hunter could answer, Sarah appeared. “Who's this?”

“It's Hunter,” Joelle said, her voice laced with meaning. Sarah let out a little squeak.

“Is he going to stay with us?”

“No!” I finally found my voice. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

Hunter shrugged, but I thought he looked hurt. “I'll find a place. No worries there.”

Sarah nodded, and her eyes searched mine. I don't know what she saw; I could barely figure out how I was feeling. Finally, Sarah turned to Joelle. “We should get back. I want to shower off the sand.”

Joelle nodded, watching me. “Coming, Camie?”

I glanced at Hunter. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

They started to walk away, and Hunter reached for my hand. “Camie,” he began, but I clenched my fist and he dropped my hand.

“I'll see you, I guess,” I said, turning to leave the train station.

Hunter fell into step beside me. “Will you?” His voice was serious.

I sighed, pinching my nose before I remembered my sunburn. The skin on my face pulsed angrily, and I put my hand down. “I don't know. It's . . . unexpected, I guess.”

He nodded. “I just want a chance to talk with you.”

Hadn't I wished for the same thing? A second chance. I studied his face, and my stomach turned over. “We can talk, I guess. But not right now, okay? I'm really tired.”

He nodded, and his smile returned. “That's a pretty nasty sunburn.”

I snorted. “Two days on the beach without sunscreen. Not my brightest moment.”

“You're still beautiful,” he said, his voice low enough that I pretended not to hear him.

I walked out into the twilight, acutely aware that Hunter was a couple of paces behind me. Joelle and Sarah were hovering on the corner, and I nodded in their direction. Then I took a deep breath and faced Hunter.

“Look,” I began, “I don't know what to say to you. But I'll meet you tomorrow, if you really want.”

He nodded. “I do. I didn't come all this way to lose you again.”

My voice wobbled. “I'm not promising anything. But we can talk.”

He grinned, and my heart broke a little. “Where did you want to meet?”

“Let's say the Duomo. You should be able to find that no problem.”

Hunter chuckled. “Camie, I'm not as incompetent as you think. Well,” he amended, “maybe I am at relationships, but I'm really, really good at travel.”

I nodded. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“What time?”

I shrugged. “Morningish? I don't know. I'll walk over once I wake up.”

“I'll be there by eight.”

“I might sleep in.”

“Still.” His eyes held mine for a moment. “I'll wait for you.”

A shiver raced up my spine, and I looked away. “Whatever.” I walked away quickly, keeping my eyes focused on Joelle and Sarah waiting under the streetlight, but I could feel Hunter watching me as I left. I gritted my teeth and tried not to look back.

When I reached the girls, Sarah looped her arm through mine and Joelle patted my shoulder gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I exhaled, realizing I'd been holding my breath since I walked away from Hunter. “Not yet.”

Joelle nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Not yet.”

~

Joelle insisted that we go out for breakfast the next morning, and she found a cute little bakery with buttery pastries, custard-filled éclairs, and plenty of coffee. Tucked around a small round green table in the back of the shop with our knees bumping, I struggled to explain my crazy, conflicted emotions to the girls.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Sarah sipped her coffee and stared at me sympathetically. “I think it's really romantic that he came looking for you.”

Joelle shot her a look. “Or maybe he's just trying to manipulate you.”

I shook my head slowly. “He doesn't seem like that kind of guy.” I hesitated. “And then there's the thing with my ex.”

“I thought you weren't worrying about him?” Joelle looked confused.

“I wasn't, but that's just because I didn't think I'd have to deal with it right now.”

“So why do you?”

I sighed. “If I want to be with Hunter or Jim, I need to figure that out, right? It wouldn't be fair to Jim to leave him hanging if I'm going to try to be with Hunter, and vice versa.”

Sarah looked at me skeptically. “But I thought you didn't love Jim. You said you loved Hunter.”

“I don't know!” I buried my head in my hands. “I don't know anything anymore.”

“Well,” Joelle offered, “Hunter's here now. That has to count in his favor, even a little.”

“When are you meeting him?” Sarah asked quietly.

“He said he'd be there by eight, and he'd just wait for me to show up.”

Sarah exhaled softly. “That's sort of sweet.”

Joelle shook her head. “I don't know. Are you sure you can handle talking to him? Do you want us to come along for backup?”

I hesitated, but then I shook my head. “You guys can't do this for me?”

Sarah squeezed my hand. “Just trust your heart, Camie.” She smiled. “Besides,” she whispered, “second chances don't happen every day. I'd kill for a chance to try again.”

Her words surprised me—I'd thought Sarah was doing a better job putting her heartbreak behind her, but she sounded as sad as I felt.

Before I could say anything, though, Joelle sighed. “It's not that hard, Sarah. Just go back to London and stalk his job.”

Sarah flushed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“No more than Hunter following Camie here. And you said that was sort of sweet.”

Sarah paused, seemingly lost in thought. I pushed my chair away from the table and stood up. “I guess I have to face him sooner or later.”

Joelle handed me the last éclair. “Take fortifications. For strength.”

Hunter was sitting on the steps of the Duomo, watching the people clustered around the piazza. I studied him from a distance, and my heart turned over in my chest. I'd wondered if the pull I felt toward him had been something I made up after the fact to justify everything that had happened in Paris, but now that he was in front of me again, I realized it was real. It was as if something compelled me to notice him. His height made him stick out, but it wasn't just that. It was everything about him, from the set of his shoulders to the stubble on his chin, from his messy brown hair to the way his lips barely turned up at the corners, even when he was staring into space.

He looked up and caught my eye across the crowd, so I hurried forward. Hunter looked like he wanted to embrace me or something, but after a moment, he just patted the marble step beside him, inviting me to sit.

Tucking my skirt around my knees, I sat down. “So,” I began nervously, “what did you want to talk about?”

Hunter looked out at the piazza, and I followed his gaze to a flock of iridescent-headed pigeons. They were pecking the cobblestones insistently, as if they could transform the slate stones into food just by wishing. Hunter cleared his throat, and I brought my eyes back to his face. He hadn't shaved that morning, I noticed, and I almost reached out to stroke his face. I sat on my hand instead.

“I hadn't really thought this out. Well,” he amended, glancing at me, “that's not true. It's all I've thought about since you left Paris, but I never thought I'd actually see you again.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You've been thinking about me?”

I wanted to lie, to play it cool, but I couldn't lie to him. “Yeah. A bit.”

He bumped his knee against mine. “I've been thinking about you constantly.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You have?”

He nodded. “We both said some stupid things—”

I cut him off. “You already apologized.”

“I know. But . . . I guess what I'm wondering is, will you hold that stuff against me?”

I shook my head. “I don't.” I paused. “I hope you've forgotten what I said, too.”

“Not forgotten. Forgiven.”

I shrugged. “Then I don't see how it matters.”

“What if it comes up again, down the road somewhere, and I realize that you still sort of hate me for the nasty things I said?”

I chose my words carefully. “Wouldn't we have to be together for that to matter?”

Hunter looked into my eyes, and my heart started to beat wildly. “That's sort of the point.”

I swallowed nervously. “I don't understand.”

He took a deep breath, as if he were scared to continue. “Camie,” he finally said, “I want a second chance with you.”

I didn't say anything. My eyes were locked with Hunter's, and I couldn't break away. Slowly, he leaned forward. He pressed his forehead to mine, our lips hovering inches apart, but he didn't try to kiss me.

“I want to be with you,” he whispered, his exhale warm on my lips.

My heart started pounding, and for a moment, I felt like I couldn't catch my breath.
What would happen if I just kissed him, right now?

I pulled back.

“I don't know if I can.”

Hunter nodded, his eyes sad. “I was afraid of that. But Camie,” he reached for my hand, interlacing his fingers through mine before giving me a gentle squeeze, “I'm going to keep trying. Until you say yes or no. As long as it's a maybe, I'm going to be here.”

I stood up hurriedly, pulling my hand away from him. “What do you want me to say?”

“Say you'll think about it. Say we can hang out again.” His Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he said, “Say you think we can start over.”

“We went too far for that.”

His smile slipped. “Well, then, maybe we can pick up where we left off.”

Before I could respond, a raspy voice close to my ear broke my concentration.

“Kiss the boy, girl. Just one kiss!”

Startled, I looked around. A gnarled old woman in a dirty dress and colorful kerchief was standing close to me. “What?”

She gestured to Hunter and smiled. A couple of her teeth were broken. “Kiss him!”

I sidestepped, trying to get away from both her and Hunter, but her hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

“One kiss to heal it all!”

I looked at Hunter, and he shrugged. His eyes looked hopeful. “You know I make it a point never to go against local customs.”

That statement was so full of the Hunter I remembered that I laughed, despite myself. The tension broke, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at him.
This guy followed you to Italy for a second chance. That doesn't happen every day.
Hesitantly, I stepped forward. Hunter let me come to him as the old woman cackled behind me. Finally, when I was in front of him, I reached up on my tiptoes and brushed my lips across his, gently. His lips were warm and sweet, and he kissed me back, slowly at first, then with more passion. I pulled my mouth away the minute his hands folded around my waist, but he didn't let me go.

The woman laughed again. “One kiss, see!” She hobbled off, moving faster than she looked like she should be able to, and I exhaled raggedly.

Hunter still had his hands firmly wrapped around my back. “You better check your bag,” he offered casually.

“What?”

He tipped his head in the direction the old woman had gone. “She got awful close to you, and you weren't really paying attention.”

Suddenly paranoid, I dug through my bag, but my fingers closed on my wallet and my camera, and I sighed in relief. Then I looked back up at Hunter, and time stood still for a moment.

Finally, I broke away, and his arms fell to his sides. “Hunter . . .”

He smiled crookedly. “That was better than no.”

“Do you,” I hesitated, but then I spit the words out. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You've got a kitchen?”

I nodded. “We rented an apartment.”

Hunter grinned. “That sounds like a great idea. Will your roommates mind?”

I shook my head. “I don't think so.”

His smile stretched even wider. God, he was sexy! “Maybe I can convince them that I'm good for you.”

I laughed. “They won't be the ones deciding.”

“But it couldn't hurt!” His vulnerability was gone, replaced with the cockiness I'd gotten used to, but I didn't mind. Too much. I told him where we lived, and he promised to come by around seven. Before I could change my mind, I gave him a little wave and hurried away from the piazza. If I stood there talking with Hunter much longer, I'd either fling myself into his arms or start crying, and I wasn't ready to do either just yet.

I ended up back at the Internet café where I'd stopped at the start of my trip, and almost on autopilot, I went inside and paid for a computer. After I'd logged on to my e-mail account, I opened the message from Jim and stared at the screen for twenty minutes. What should I say? Where could I even begin?