by Tharp, Emma
"I'm with you, Wes. And I told him that. You’ve got nothing to worry about from him or anyone else.” Emotion shines in her eyes. “I want to be with you.”
A weight in my chest eases. I know she's telling me the truth and she's never given me reason to not trust her. "I'm sorry. I know I'm overreacting."
It's her turn to grab my hand now. “I have something else that I’d like to share. Yesterday and today, I’ve met with a counselor. It feels good to talk to her and work through some things I’ve been holding on to. I know it’ll be good for us, too.”
I smile and it comes from deep inside me. “That’s great news.” She can only benefit from talking to someone about things that bother her. “And you know that if you ever need to talk, about anything, I’m here for you.”
"Thank you, Wes. I appreciate that. Now, let's have a nice dinner.”
This seems like the perfect time for my surprise. “I’ve got some news, too. But all I can tell you is to pack your bags. We’re going to be gone for three weeks.”
"Oh, really?" There's excitement in her voice and she’s wearing a grin from ear to ear.
"Don't even ask for a hint. I'm not giving it to you. Just be ready to fly tomorrow evening." I can barely stand keeping this secret from her. But she’ll know soon enough and I’m positive she’s going to love it.
There's a glint in her eye that's been missing and I love seeing it.
I hope this trip connects us again like we did in Tahoe and New York. We need it.
Twelve
Lydia
“We’re going to Rome?” I ask as we stand at the gate in the airport. I’ve been so curious all day where Wes was taking me. He was true to his word and didn’t give me any hints. He’d only told me that I won’t need winter clothes.
He nods. “I know how much you love Italy, and I can’t wait for you to show me around.”
I throw my arms around him and nearly cry. “Thank you for planning this. You’re going to love it.” When he asked me what my favorite city was, I had no idea that he’d set this up.
His smile is wide and stunningly handsome. “I’m sure I will.”
The seats in first class are comfortable leather that recline all the way to a lying position. Since it’s a redeye, I plan to try and get some sleep.
Wes has never been to Italy, so I can’t wait to show him around some of my favorite places. And to see them through fresh eyes with him is going to be amazing.
We will be here for the next three weeks, and we need the time away.
I've been getting in my own damn head and I know it. I'm letting things that are beyond my control get to me. Wes has proven to me again and again that he is a good man. Now I need to step up to the plate and be for him what he has been for me: a friend, a support system, and a true partner.
“You’re the sexiest tour guide I’ve ever seen,” Wes says and squeezes my ass firmly before kissing me. We both were able to get some sleep on the plane, so we checked into our hotel and hit the ground running this morning.
“Why, thank you,” I tell him. We just left the Spanish Steps to see the quintessential Baroque Roman architecture. And now we’re touring the Pantheon, a two thousand-year-old Roman temple that now serves as a church. “I’m not sure groping is allowed here.”
He laughs and pulls me in close to his side. “Maybe we should leave then.”
“Had enough? Let’s keep going. We have to go to Trevi Fountain next.”
“Lead and I will follow, signora,” Wes says in a sorry excuse of an Italian accent.
I can’t help but giggle. We leave the Pantheon and the warm Italian sun hits us. It’s a cloudless day and after we go to the fountain, I’ll be ready for a swim back at the hotel pool.
“What are you going to wish for?” Wes asks, gripping a coin in his hand, ready to throw it behind him and into the fountain.
“No,” I correct him and show him, putting the coin in my right hand and throwing it over my left shoulder. “That’s the correct way to do it.”
He mimics my gesture and throws his coin in amongst at least one hundred other tourists. “Why is that the right way?”
“I’m not sure.” I laugh. “It was probably the last time I was here for a show. A bunch of us took a tour.”
He plants a kiss on my cheek. “I hope my wish comes true tonight in the suite. Now tell me what you wished for.”
“You know I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” I say. Wes is already making all my wishes come true. My last hope is for a happily ever after with him.
“There’s one last place I want to see today before we head back to the hotel,” Wes tells me.
Even though it feels like we’ve walked for miles, I concede. He looks too cute and excited to say no. “Whatever you want.”
A taxi drives us to see the Colosseum—the most iconic symbol of Rome. It’s hard to believe that two thousand years ago, gladiators fought to the death here.
With stunning views of the ancient Roman architecture, hand in hand with Wes, I begin to feel like myself again. Neither of us can stop smiling.
There's a restaurant directly across the street from the Colosseum. Wes and I are seated outside and we stare at the grandeur across the street.
I take a long breath in and out, and delight in the smell of fresh bread and garlic and sigh. "I love being a tourist here. We don't get recognized and look at this place."
"It is magical. And you seem different here. More at ease. I like it," Wes says, laying his hand on my thigh.
We order pizza and a bottle of Italian wine and watch the sunset.
I take his hand in mine and kiss the back of it. "Thank you for being patient with me. I've been over-analyzing everything lately and I appreciate you sticking by me."
"That's what a good boyfriend should do. I am here for you and I want you to feel safe with me, okay?"
The backs of my eyes sting but I don't want to cry. I'm happy. Kissing his cheek, I lean into his side. He puts his arm around me, hugging me closer to him.
The fresh, piping hot pizza is set on our table and Wes and I look at each other with huge grins on our faces. I take a hot slice and have a bite, burning my tongue.
He grins, shuts his eyes, and moans with his first bite of real Italian pizza. "I would say this is better than sex, but it's not. As close as it can come, though."
I laugh and count my lucky stars for this trip and the man sitting next to me.
"I'm making a promise to you, here in Italy. I'm not going to let fear ruin our relationship. Sometimes, my head wanders with thoughts of what-ifs. It's crazy where your mind can go. And I'm done with that. I just want to enjoy this, enjoy us." Trusting Wes is easy. And with every fiber of my being, I plan to work my ass off to stay true to my word. I want Wes in my life and he deserves to have all of me, uninhibited.
He leans in and gives me a sweet kiss. "That's all I can ask for."
We finish off the bottle of wine and the entire pizza and head back to our hotel.
We barely make it in our room before Wes is kissing me. There's a deep sense of love, passion, and desire in every stroke of his tongue against mine.
His hands come down and find the hem of my dress and lift it up over my head. I stand before him in a black lace bra and thong.
He shakes his head. "So fucking gorgeous." His voice is hoarse and full of lust.
I strip off his shirt, shorts, and boxer briefs and take his length in my hand, stroking it up and down while we kiss.
He grows thicker, harder with every caress of my hand.
Running his fingers down the skin of my abdomen, he takes my thong off and slides one finger in my sex. He grins at me when he finds that I'm slick and ready for him.
Wes eases me down to the floor and we lay across the $10,000 rug. I’m not sure if that’s how much it costs, but it looks like it must. It's soft, fuzzy, and surprisingly comfortable against the skin of my back. With my knees spread wide, Wes eases into me so slowly. I'm up on m
y elbows so I can watch as he thrusts inside me. Neither of us can look away, eyes heated, taking in the sight of us joined together. I'm mesmerized by him and the force of attraction between us. I'm not sure if I have ever felt anything this strong.
Heat dances across my skin while I gaze up at his strong chiseled body worshiping mine.
"Look at us,” he says, voice raspy. "Our bodies fit perfectly together."
He drives into me harder, faster.
I arch my back and cry, "Yes, yes!"
Wes's fingers knead into my hips changing the angle and he slides in deeper. He's hitting a sensitive bundle of nerves that cause my legs to start to shake. I moan so loud I'm sure the neighbors in the next suite can hear me.
He leans down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, the pressure intense and enough to drive me closer to the edge. I writhe my hips up to meet his thrusts.
Wes's control starts to slip, his movements faster with less fluidity.
We're both on the brink and there's no going back from here.
I close my eyes and behind my eyelids, I'm on another planet as my body shudders in a mind-bending orgasm. He lets me ride it out, my body slowly coming back down to Earth.
Wes flips us over, so now he's on his back and I'm on top of him. He grabs my breasts and I clutch his chest as I ride him. His hands work their way down my body until he possessively grabs my ass and guides me up and down his length. The movement, the pressure, the way he's looking at me, it's absolute perfection and I can feel it starting again.
Reaching down with his thumb, Wes begins to stroke my clit. I lean down and claim his mouth, feeling the pressure swell within me. It isn't long and I'm climaxing again, shuddering around him. He joins me, thrusting hard inside me and calling out my name.
I collapse on his chest and hear his heart beating fast, matching my own.
When my breathing finally normalizes, I look up into his eyes. “I’m so happy. Being with you makes me the happiest I’ve been.”
“I love you, Lydia.” Wes strokes gentle circles on my back, as if he didn’t just tell me that.
I feel it—no, I’ve been feeling it. From him and for him. I don’t know why I hold it in and don’t say it back. Instead, I lean in and show him my love in my kiss.
Thirteen
Wes
“This place is fancy,” I whisper in Lydia’s ear. “It reminds me of being at a wedding. Maybe we can find a maintenance closet somewhere.”
She giggles. “Maybe later. And that’s why I made you wear a tie.” She leans in and kisses my cheek.
“I’ll wear anything you want me to wear. If only it were a bathing suit back at the hotel pool in Rome.” We left Italy two days ago so we could attend this charity gala. It’s to raise money for children with rare genetic diseases. Lydia had a cousin with Batten Disease who died at seventeen. Lydia has a huge heart and is always using her celebrity status to help out in any way. She is one among five singers here tonight who will perform a song for the event.
Her lips part slightly and her fingertips skim lightly across the neckline of her dress. “You have no idea how much I’d rather be sipping Italian wine by the pool, but tickets for this event sold for $500 each. We had to come back for it.”
“Excuse me,” Kenny, Lydia’s manager, says as he leans in Lydia’s direction to pick up the butter plate. She in turn leans into me, which I don’t mind at all, except for the fact that they’ve been acting this way all evening. Or rather, he’s doing all he can to get her attention and she’s going out of her way to ignore him.
This is only the second time I've actually met Kenny, and to say that things feel awkward today would be an understatement. Kenny and Lydia haven’t been in the same room together since she went off on him and told him she would like to take a year back in June.
The first time we met was the night I met Lydia. Kenny had had a few too many to drink and was in a jovial mood, much different than this evening. Tonight, his shoulders are rounded and he’s currently wearing a pout on his face.
“Lydia, tell me about your trip to Italy,” Kenny says, staring at the side of her face.
She looks at me and says, “How does my makeup look? Should I go reapply?” As if Kenny didn’t just ask her a question.
“It’s flawless,” I tell her.
I don't miss the way Kenny looks at her. It's full of affection and something else—longing, maybe. He wants her. It's a male’s sixth sense to feel it when another male desires his own. And Kenny wants to be more than Lydia’s manager. I’m sure of it, but I haven’t shared my opinions on my feelings with Lydia, because it all seems to be one-sided.
A male country music star that I’ve never heard of before takes the stage, slinging his guitar over his neck. He begins playing a slow song. The volume isn’t so loud as to disrupt people talking during the meal.
"How are you doing? You seem on edge," I whisper into Lydia's ear. Hoping to soothe her, I place my hand on her thigh and run my thumb over her smooth skin.
She kisses my cheek. "I'm okay. Ready to get this performance over with and get out of here." She gives me a wink.
I don’t prod her further. We can discuss it later. I know just how to relax her anyway. The dress she has on tonight is black and comes off her shoulders. It hits a couple of inches above her knee, giving the perfect view of her sexy legs. We won’t be home long before I strip her out of it so I can give her a massage and then make love to her long and slow. In Italy, we had sex every day, usually more than once. It was glorious.
The meal starts with shrimp bisque, followed by grilled filet of beef with red wine sauce, potato gratin, and glazed brussels sprouts. It’s fantastic, but I could eat at least one more plate of food, maybe two.
“Lydia, excuse me,” Kenny says, tapping her shoulder.
She wipes the corners of her mouth with her napkin and slowly turns toward Kenny. “What is it?”
Kenny purses his lips together. “Do you think we could talk? You haven’t returned any of my calls.”
“Not here,” is all she says before she cuts a piece of her steak and puts it in her mouth.
Kenny mutters something to himself before he, too, turns his attention to his meal.
We eat the rest of dinner in an awkward silence infused with uncomfortable tension. The evening can’t end soon enough.
Dessert gets served—warm chocolate mousse with raspberry sauce—when Lydia is called to the stage.
"I love you," I tell her, and she kisses me sweetly and makes her way to the stage.
I don't mind that she hasn't told me she loves me back. When I told her, I didn't do it with the expectation that she would tell me in that moment. I've known I've loved her for quite some time. When we first met, I was attracted to her beauty. But it wasn't just that. She is a light and people are drawn to her, me included. All it took was one conversation and I could feel her heart, she calmed me and I craved that feeling. I didn't know I needed or wanted anything like that until I was around her.
Kenny puts his napkin on the table and slides over into Lydia's seat so he’s sitting next to me.
"Did Lydia mention to you what she told me the last time we saw each other?" He scowls, deepening the small lines around his eyes.
My muscles twitch and I’m automatically in defensive mode. "Yes, we talked about it. We share everything."
He nods. "I see you're still keeping up pretenses." He studies me, looking me up and down and it makes my skin crawl. "You know she's only doing you for her career, right?”
Looking up at the stage, I stare at Lydia, doing what she does best. She has the crowd under her spell, listening to her beautiful voice sing the words she’s written from her heart. I’m in awe of her. Turning back toward Kenny, I say, "What are you talking about?"
“You know after you two met the first time, I told her that she should date you—that it’d be good for her career to be seen with a young athletic stud like you." He lifts his whiskey glass to his lips, takes a sw
allow, and swishes it around in his mouth.
It's like someone punched me in the gut. "I don't believe you." She wouldn’t do that. I remember the night we met like it was yesterday. We were drawn to each other, and the man sitting next to me had nothing to do with it.
"It's true. She wasn’t sure, so I encouraged it and told her to keep calling you and meeting you out in public places so you’d be photographed together. I don't care if you believe me or not, but that's how it started. Now I see she's developed feelings for you and she's willing to lay her career on the line for you. Take a minute to look around at all the good she does.” He points around the room. “People love her and she's going to ruin it all for you," Kenny spits out.
"You're not making any sense." I turn his words around in my mind. She’s burned out; that’s why she needs a break. Not because of me.
"She's willing to give up the tour for you. It's going to kill her career. You need to end this now while there's something left to salvage."
All of a sudden my throat gets tight and I have the urge to rip off my tie. Just then Lydia sings the last lines of her song. Her voice is angelic and beautiful and the room stands and begins to cheer.
Panic settles into my bones.
It won’t be me that takes this away from her or her fans.
Before I even have a chance to think, I get up out of my chair and walk out.
Fourteen
Lydia
My heart expands every time I look out into the crowd and see people standing and clapping for me. I thank the crowd and make my way off the stage and back toward my seat.
Wes isn't there. Tugging my chair out, I look to Kenny and ask, "Where’s Wes?" My tone is cold and emotionless, just like it's been all evening. I'm having a hard time faking it around him lately. It bothers me that he didn't take me seriously when we were talking about me taking some time off. Maybe I was being irrational, but at the very least he could humor me and hear me out. He's worked with me long enough to know my basic needs.