“He’s already working on his first gig, some big launch event for a tech company at the Convention Centre. And he’s already hired a team to work exclusively on corporate. So yeah, I think he’s pretty serious.”
“Whoa, he’s good.” That was fast.
“You have no idea. He knows what he is doing, trust me. So are you going to do it with him?”
I blush, but luckily the quality of the call is blurry so he can’t see me that well. “Do what with him?”
“Work with him, you doofus.”
Oh. How silly of me. “Oh right. Yeah, why not. It can’t hurt, right?”
“I told him to take it easy on you.”
“Hanny!” I scold, frowning at him.
“What? He’s going to be your boss.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just Tristan, I can handle him. You don’t need to shelter me from everything.”
“Alright, I guess after what you’ve just gone through…”
I give him a warm smile. “I appreciate it but I’ll be fine. Business is business, alright? So I bet you’re glad to have him back in Sydney, huh?”
Hansley sits up and props a pillow on the wall, resting his back. “Yeah, I’m glad to have my bro back. My roommate is pretty glad too, she is doing my head in; constantly yapping about him. Tristan this, Tristan that,” he mimics her by imitating a higher pitched voice and grimaces. “Blech!”
I swallow hard at his sudden comment. His roommate Ashley, as in the tanned blonde yoga instructor who always wears skimpy tank tops and shorts? “What do you mean?”
“She keeps asking me to set her up with him. I don’t know why she would be interested in him when she lives with someone as good looking and cool like me right?” He chuckles.
“Uh huh, in your dreams. I can’t believe she’s lived with you as long as she has. You snore like a tractor! I used to hear you through my wall.”
He scoffs, “Hey! She gets to hear my beautiful voice 24/7. That’s a privilege, sis.”
“Why don’t you make her pay more rent if you set her up with him,” I suggest without a second thought.
He snaps his fingers. “Ooh good idea! You know what, she’s so keen on him I think she’ll do it.”
My stomach twists. I was kidding. He really wants to set Tristan up with a hot blonde? Why does the idea make me seethe with anger and nauseous all at once?
“Sis, you still there?”
“Huh? Sorry, bad reception,” I fib, before quickly resuming my happy demeanour. “Yeah why not, you’re a talented haggler aren’t you?”
“Hey, I’m good with money that’s why I’m in finance! Also, I’ll get her to set me up with her friend Jess. Not too hardball?”
I swallow hard. “Do what you want. Anyway, I have to go. Just wanted to call you and let you know I’m okay. I texted mom and dad, but I’ll call them tomorrow.”
Hansley yawns again. “Okay, thanks for the idea! Let me know if you need anything okay?”
Don’t set Tristan up with the Yoga bunny! I give a quick wave to my phone, eager to press the hang up button.
Throwing the phone down on the bed, I shake off any newfound thoughts I had about Tristan. To think I thought there was something there, something special. That kiss, albeit brief, was different in every way that was good for me.
It was powerful.
It was rough.
It was sweet.
It shook me to the core how much I liked it and to him it was a mistake. This can never happen again…. His words ring in my ear, something I need to remind myself every time I think about him. Which is often. Note to self, must start doing yoga.
What is Gabe up to? I open my door and make a sharp right to the next room, number 16. I knock the door in a way that Gabe knows it’s me – three successive knocks, followed by two slow ones.
“Come in!”
I turn the golden knob and walk into another gorgeous room. Unlike the cool blue ocean theme my room had, Gabe’s is like a warm rustic Spanish villa with yellow mustard walls and green furniture. Green bed sheets, velvet green curtains, a faded green dining table.
Gabe has changed from his usual ensemble of a neat cardigan, shirt and jeans into a linen shirt and white shorts. As usual he keeps his white scarf on, because that’s what Gabe does best – look stylish 24/7. From the looks of it, he has already started unpacking most of his things, including his large toiletry bag, filled with his hair products and creams. Unlike me, he packs 30/70 so he will be looking a lot more stylish than me.
“I just wanted to see how you were going. Looks like you’re settling in pretty well.” I walk in and take a seat on the firm double bed. Gabe continues to take some more clothes out of the suitcase, arranging them into planned outfits.
“Girl, you have no idea how much I’m loving this right now. Once I get my clothes sorted, we have to make our way down to the pool and get some cocktails.”
“I won’t have any, I’m meeting Amelia tonight for dinner. I want to be prepared in case she wants to go through our plans for her; any questions she might have,” I stress, trying to sound calm.
“Geez she said to worry about that tomorrow, tonight is just dinner. And knowing you, you are twice as prepared as anyone I know. Enjoy your first day here!” he insists, focused on his garments.
He’s got a point. I haven’t even been in Italy for four hours and all I can think about is getting my laptop and finishing my third run sheet - and starting the dark peppermint crunch block.
I heave a sigh. “I guess you're right.”
“Of course I'm right. Relax, girl! Let's go down to the pool and get some cocktails. Which board shorts should I put on? The gay pair or the really gay pair?” He points to two pairs of barely-there briefs, a white one and a baby pink one. I'm guessing the pink one is the 'really gay' pair.
“Go with the white one, you want to make people guess about your sexuality…for an extra minute at least.”
Gabe lets out a quick chuckle, “Why would I want to do such a thing? Fine, only because you said so. Go get changed! I'll get you in ten minutes.”
He grabs the tight whities and saunters to the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. I know he'll be more than ten minutes, so I’m not going to hold my breath and wait here. For someone with short hair, he spends an awfully long amount of time styling it with his endless amounts of creams, mousses and gels. Unlike me, I manage my wild and unruly hair with a wooden brush, hair ties and bobby pins.
I force myself off this ridiculously comfortable bed and open the door, walking with my head sticking out without looking. Without warning, the sudden impact hits me. Just like a speeding car heading out of a drive way, I've crashed into someone.
The mystery victim stumbles back. I look downwards and I see a tone chest beneath a tight grey t-shirt. Tanned, lean arms.
“Scusi, Io non ho visto…”
That accent, it’s so thick. It’s deep, hypnotic and lush.
“I-I’m so sorry—” I keep my eyes glued to the floor, trying to avoid looking at him. Given the way his voice sounded, I don’t even want to imagine how his face looks.
I can sense a pair of eyes looking at me, and I’m all too aware that I don’t have bra on. To think I slammed into his chest with my bare breasts like that. Hesitantly, I look up at this mystery man with the unbelievably suggestive voice.
I didn’t think it was possible, but his face is even more pleasant than his voice. Olive skin, wide and inviting jade eyes, tousled honey coloured hair, are the first things I noticed. The perfect scattering of blond stubble on his square jawline set off his full, bee-stung lips. This is the face of an angel, a Botticelli angel. If he was a half a foot taller he could easily be a model, but he only stands a few inches taller than me. I’ve got to admit, he’s gorgeous.
“No sorry bella….”
Words are not coming out of my mouth right now.
“Come ti chiami? Your name?”
My mind draws a blank. My name, my name… How c
an I not know the answer to this?
“Lacey.” I smile weakly at him thankful my brain hasn’t suddenly dissolved to the mental capacity of a two-year-old.
He takes a lingering glance at me, stopping short of my décolletage once again making me conscious that I’m not wearing a bra. What a sleaze! With an impish grin on his face, he starts to move backwards and turns towards the hall.
“Ciao, signorina Lacey.” is all he says and he walks down the corridor without looking back at me. The way he says my name, the way it rolls off his tongue and pronounces it is sexy.
What was that? I couldn’t string two sentences together. I almost forgot my name, for god’s sake. Get a grip Lacey, it’s just a guy. But who am I kidding, I’ve always been shy around cute guys. The idea of one flirting with me makes me shudder with despair, I’m totally clueless about it. I’m That Wedding Girl – give me a sixty guest wedding in a foreign country to plan any day. But having a thirty second conversation with a tanned lothario? That’s something I don’t have much experience in.
All of a sudden, Gabe opens the door behind me and steps out with a big towel in his hand, his aviator sunglasses on his forehead. “Hey, you’re not changed yet! I thought you were getting ready,” he whines.
“No, I am ready,” I grin to myself.
I’m suddenly feeling much more settled in, and keen to check out the scenery.
Get Book Two – Amalfi Coast here!
ARE YOU EXCITED FOR THE NEXT DESTINATION?
If you enjoyed this book, found it useful or otherwise then I’d really appreciate it if you would post a short review on Amazon and or Goodreads. I don’t want to have to beg but since I am a nobody at this stage I could use all the love I can get. I’ll reward (or punish) you with more of my work!
I do read all the reviews personally so that I can continually write what people are wanting.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I could not have done this without the following people (you know who you are but I’ll embarrass you anyway)
To my love Andrew – thank you for being my first beta reader, go-to opinion for male lingo and being you.
To my parents – thank you for saying I should have written years ago, I’m glad I’m finally doing it now.
To GY – thank you for starting before me. We’ll both get there one day, I know it.
To May – thank you for all the helpful advice from the very start, you have been an absolute godsend!
To Tracy – you are brilliant, that is all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Maggie Way is old enough to write about sexy romance, but young enough to blush at the steamy scenes. She hails from Sydney, Australia and lives with her boyfriend in who gets the privilege (and curse) of being the first to read her work.
When she isn’t in her own make-believe world conjuring up fresh and romantic adventures that lets her readers escape the daily grind, she likes to travel and watch cheesy movies while having fine cheese and wine with her girlfriends.
You can contact her at [email protected]
Feel free to say hi to at:
Twitter: @MaggieintheWay
Facebook: MaggieWayAuthor
Website: http://maggiewayauthor.com
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my team of beta readers: Anna Baucom Burr, Melesia Tully, Sandi Laubhan, and Brittany Bishop.
Also, I want to give a big thanks to my family and friends who have been so supportive of my writing and me. Thank you.
Chapter One
Olivia blinked her eyes open, slowly taking in the dimly lit room. The beige walls and bright carpet sent a chill up her spine. I’m in a hotel. She froze, her heart beating rapidly as the events of last night quickly played through her head. The bed creaked and shifted beneath her. Where am I?
She clutched the crisp white sheets in her hand as she sat up. Her eyes flew to the half-naked, or was he totally naked, man next to her. The maroon and gold filigree comforter pooled around his hips, giving her a good view of his toned back. Four long red marks trailed down his left shoulder. Are those scratches? Did I do that? Oh my God. What did I do?
Swallowing, she quietly eased out of bed, keeping the sheets pressed against her bare chest. The sheets caught and the man stirred, rolling to his side. Olivia cringed, holding her breath as she stared, praying the man didn’t wake. His eyes stayed shut and she let out a relieved breath, running her free hand through her long chestnut locks. I need to get out of here before he wakes up.
Her eyes lingered on his face a moment longer. Stubble adorned his jaw. His cocoa hair was mussed as if someone had run their fingers through it all night long. Yeah. You did. She flinched at the reminder.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I don’t even know this guy. Do I even know his name? One-night stands weren’t her thing. And she couldn’t even blame it on liquor; she hadn't been drunk—or even drinking.
But she had been emotional and clearly stupid. No more solo trips out for dinner. I can’t trust myself.
Stop thinking about last night. Find your clothes and get out of here before he wakes up. Holy crap, what if he wakes up before I’m gone? Focus.
Olivia swallowed as she shifted on her feet. Should she drop the sheet or try to tug it out from under him? Her fingers curled around the edges tighter. Before you do anything, find out where your clothes are. Her eyes flitted over the bright blue and gold carpet in search of her garments. Her shirt and bra were a few feet away, her jeans and panties a few feet further, while her shoes and purse were a few feet from the door.
She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Dropping the sheet, she ran through the bedroom, scooping up her clothes. She hopped on one foot as she slid her jeans on and buttoned them. Then she tugged her blouse over her head, suppressing a curse as a button snagged her hair. She twisted in an attempt to assess the damage. A thick lock of hair was wound around the clear button. Seriously? Come on.
Olivia mumbled under her breath as she hurriedly untangled her hair. Dressed, she picked up her flats and purse and tiptoed to the bedroom door. She turned, taking one last look back at him. Derrick. His name was Derrick. Last night had been fun and he did seem like a nice guy.
But she was too ashamed and embarrassed at what she had done to stick around. Not to mention, wouldn't it be awkward? What would they say to each other? What if he expected her to be gone? She shuddered. Leaving was the best solution.
Olivia tensed, casting a look over her shoulder as she carefully opened the door. The door squeaked and she cringed, stealing a fleeting look at the bed. Her pulse roared in her ears. Please don’t wake up. Derrick didn’t budge. She held her breath, pulling the door open far enough for her to slip through. Once the door was open she eased into the hallway.
A sigh escaped her lungs as she closed the door behind her. She leaned against the cool door for a moment while she gathered her wits. Her racing pulse calmed and she set her flats on the floor before sliding her feet into her shoes.
Digging into her purse, she pulled out a small brush and hair tie, quickly pulling her tousled brown locks into a ponytail. At least this way, the only people who would know she was doing the walk of shame would be her roommates. Please let it be late enough that they won’t be home. If they were home, she would have to deal with their questions. At least she didn’t live with her parents. She could only imagine what her mother would say.
Focus on getting home, Olivia, she chided herself.
Olivia rushed down the stairs and out onto the busy street. She chewed on her lip as she assessed her location. Having gone to school at Patterson University for the past three years, she knew the area well. It only took her a short minute to figure out where she was and the location of the closest train station.
Hiking her purse up on her shoulder, she walked briskly down the
street, nodding her head at the occasional passerby. Judging by the pink hue of the sky, it was still early. She could go home, shower, and spend the rest of the day in bed with a quart of ice cream and sappy movies.
After yesterday, she needed a day to herself.
***
Olivia slid her key into the lock and twisted the knob, letting herself into her apartment.
"Olivia."
She looked up at the sound of her name and suppressed a groan. Her roommate, Elena, was sprawled across the couch.
"Didn't you wear that yesterday?” Elena asked, quirking her brow up in question as she smiled. “You and Tyler are back together?" She sat up, tucking her legs underneath her as she studied Olivia closely.
Olivia sighed. I’m so busted. "I wasn't at Tyler's," she said meekly, avoiding Elena’s wide chocolate eyes.
"Wait. What?" Elena said, standing up. "Where were you?"
"I had lunch with Tyler,” she began. “It started out okay and then he started planning our future again and I just got so mad,” she clenched her fists tightly as she recalled the conversation. “I don’t know why he thinks I should just drop everything and move across the country. I still have a whole year left of school and he just assumes I’m going…” she vented, shaking her head. “Anyway, I wandered around downtown for a while and ended up at Louie’s. I got talking to this guy, we went to dinner, and then I went home with him," she admitted as she slumped down in the plush green lounge chair.
"Olivia, that isn't like you. Were you drinking? Did he take advantage of you?" Elena asked worried.
"I wasn't drunk. I didn’t have anything to drink. I don't know why I did it. I mean, I guess I do. He was nice and we got to talking—he was really easy to talk to. He was pretty hot, too. He had dimples, and oh God his stubble was just right," she said, closing her eyes, bringing his face back into her mind. "And the sex was…" she trailed off unable to find a word worthy of describing it.
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