Through Her Eyes (16 page)

Last night we dropped anchor off the island of Ischia. Only a few miles off the coast of Italy, it was a secluded paradise—the secret gem of the Amalfi Coast. Hidden away and only accessible by private boat.

A tiny beam of sunlight peeks in through the portal in my cabin. I smile. A true, honest to God smile. After stretching my arms and yawning to dispel the morning sleep still harboring inside me, I have to ‘hit the head’ and then freshen up. Looking at myself in the mirror, I stare in horror and laugh. Chase can
not
see me like this. Since when do I care what Chase thinks of how I look? And in that moment, I realize I do care. I care a lot, and although that feeling originally scared me, it doesn’t scare me now. It excites me. My cheeks turn a soft shade of crimson.
I have a big crush on Chase Porter
.

I make my way into the salon and find Chase reclined on the white sofa, his head resting against the pillow. His eyes are closed. I cough once to signal my presence, and when his eyes catch mine, they sparkle so brightly they take my breath away.

“Hi.” It was almost a whisper.

“Hey, you’re up early.” His lips part so broadly, it melts me. Good to know I’m not alone in my excitement.

“The sun was streaming in and woke me.”

“That will happen. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I still want to.”

“But your food is poison.” I wink.

“I don’t think it’s too hard to splatter a little Nutella on a piece of toast.”

“In that case, I would love some.”

“Okay, great. Let’s go.” He stands and brushes a single kiss against my forehead, then takes my hand in his and leads me into the galley. Goosebumps form across my arms, my body responding immediately to the gentle kiss and my hand being enclosed in his.

I watch from the table as Chase prepares my breakfast. His long, lean body works in precision as if he’s creating a masterpiece. As I sit there and stare, I’m hungry— ravenous—but not for food. In such a short period of time I went from wanting to keep him at a distance to seeking him out every day constantly. I hunger to know more about him. The need to know everything grows immensely inside me. Every time we speak, I feel as though he’s helping me not only unlock another piece of the puzzle of who he is, but also of who I am and who I want to be. My eyes trail his movements. I once thought that guilt would consume me for having these feelings. That I shouldn’t want him. But that’s not how I feel at all.

He leans forward, and I suck in air as his finger lifts to swipe away Nutella that has collected on my lip. His hand slowly falls away from my face and I watch as his fingers trace his lips. My breathing stops.

“You’re delicious.” His gaze rakes my body and smolders like two burning embers.

My body heats.

My heart pounds.

I want to lunge for him.

I want to kiss him.

He looks at me, and everything becomes clear. The curtain has been lifted. He wants this as badly as I do.

So why don’t I jump into his arms and make him consume me? Because I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve him. If I let him in . . . I’ll crush him.

Just like I did Parker.

No. I won’t go there again. I can’t hurt anyone else. This is the only way.

Nothing can happen.

I tell myself this, but not one part of me believes it.

We step out on deck, and the morning air is chilly on my skin. My arms instinctively wrap around myself and are then replaced by two strong and firm ones. I peer up to find Chase looking down at me. His arms enclose me.

“Want me to grab you a sweater?” I shake my head.

“I’ll be okay, plus I have you to keep me warm.” My eyebrow rises suggestively.
Where the hell did that come from?

“That you do. That you do.” His hands slide up and down my arms, causing the friction to warm my body further. My breaths of the cool air become short and shallow. I will myself to calm at his close proximity. My visceral reaction tells me to run. Run far and run fast. Instead, I continue to breathe through the panic.

“What’s the plan today?” I ask as his soft fingers make circles across my forearm.

“I made arrangements to go to a local vineyard, followed by the best lunch you will ever eat. You ready to see this island?”

“Sounds fun. Thanks for doing all this. For planning everything.”

“It’s really my pleasure.” His eyes focus on the water, and I watch him. Take him in. He’s so beautiful it makes me lose focus on everything but him. What’s really beautiful about Chase is not just his looks but also everything else that makes up the man who stands before me. As if he senses me staring, he turns his head and smiles down at me. A knowing smile. A smirk. Then he turns back and continues to stare into the dark abyss gently lapping below us, once more consumed by his own thoughts.

We arrive at the private vineyard a little after eleven. Stepping out of the cab, I walk toward the wrought iron gates.

“A bit early to drink.” I look up at Chase, and with a tip of his head, he motions for me to enter the courtyard.

“Never too early to get a bit frisky.” He offers me a devastating smile. Even the white of his teeth dazzles me. I’m sure he can hear my sudden intake of breath as a devilish look creeps into his eyes. Something is brewing between us. I sense it in every look, in every touch, and I no longer know if I have the strength to stop it.

“Want to sit down over here?” He points to a table overlooking the vines. Tilting my head up, I peer at him and nod then turn away, taking in my surroundings. Lush green, rolling hills, and olive groves fan the property. It stretches out like a quilt of green and gold, a pattern so intricate and beautiful it takes my breath away. The sun is radiant in the distance. The perfect backdrop to an afternoon drink. Just then, a woman with wavy red hair strides through the courtyard toward us. Her fiery locks float in the wind. When she arrives at our table, she gives us a casual nod and pours two glasses of a light wine. I lift the glass to my mouth for a sip. It’s fruity and refreshing. The smell is heavenly.

Chase leans back into his chair, sipping the liquid contentedly. I turn my attention back to the sommelier that’s offering us an explanation of the wine we are tasting in broken English. She rustles her hands through the unusual layers of her dress. Blood red tulle flaps lightly against neon yellow silk. “I shall get some light snacks. If you need anything, I’m Pia.”

“Thank you, Pia. This is Chase, and I’m Aria.”

“How beautiful, Aria. It’s very fitting.” She makes a slight gesture toward me before placing the bottle down on the table.

“Yes, it is,” Chase, agrees as his eyes find mine. I raise my brow at him in question.

“Your name—Aria—in Italian, means air. Look at you. You’re like a beautiful, refreshing breeze that I know will pass shortly.”
If he only knew how accurate his words were.

As we sit in the vineyard sipping glasses of Pinot Grigio, Chase decides it’s a perfect time to play our game again, offering up twenty questions. I wasn’t aware this was ‘our game,’ but I go with it since I love the idea of finding out everything about him.

“Favorite movie?” Chase asks first, kicking off the game.

“
Heathers
?” I reply.

“I can see that. You are totally the type.” His eyes gleam with mischief.

“Are you saying I’m crazy?” My eyes narrow, but I can’t stop my lips from betraying me and turning up into a smile.

“No, just the dark, brooding type.” He laughs.

“Whatever. I’m so not. What about you? Let me guess.
The Godfather?
”

“Think I’m that predicable? For your information my favorite is
Field Of Dreams
.”

“Of course it is. I forgot you’re existential and shit. Okay. My turn. Favorite singer?” I stick out my neck and mock him.

“Ol’ Blue Eyes.”

“God, really? Who are you, a seventy-year-old man?”

“Princess, I can promise you I’m not.” His eyes light up as he raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Okay, there, killer. Next.”

“No, you go first.”

“Fine. Adele.”

“Hmmm. First Date?”

I’m frozen in place knowing I need to answer, but a memory flashes through my mind from a few years back.

If crying were a job, I would win the award for best employee after I sat on the front steps of my house with tears streaming down my face.

“Hi, baby girl.” If I could die of mortification that would be the moment when it happened. Of course, he was there.

“What are you doing here?” I choked through my sobs.

“I called the house to see if you were home, and your mom said you were sitting outside. What happened?” I peeked up at him. My hair covered most of my face, but his soft fingers pushed the stray, limp strands back.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, come on. You know you can tell me anything.” His hand cupped my face, and I relaxed into him.

“He never showed,” I whispered, my eyes locked on his.

“Who?”

“Dave. At school he said he would come over to watch a movie. He never showed,” I stammered.

“Shhh, Shhh. You’re okay. I’m here now. I got you.” And I knew he did. He always did. “You’re too young to date anyway. God, Ari. You’re only fourteen.”

“I’m not a kid, okay?” I snapped at him. God, why couldn’t he see that? If only he did, I wouldn’t be here crying. He wouldn’t be comforting me about another guy. I would be his. But that wasn’t in the cards for us. I blinked my eyes a few times to stop more tears from falling.

“I know, I know. Shit, Ari, you got to stop crying. You’re killing me, and now I’m going to have to kill him. What’s his last name?” I pulled away from him and crossed my arms at my chest.

“You will do no such thing, Park. God, I would die of embarrassment. Please don’t do anything. I don’t want anyone at school to know.”

“I don’t know, Ari. I kind of think I have to. One day I’ll see Owen up above, and he might not let me enter the pearly gates if I don’t kill this douche bag.” I laugh.

“There she is. There’s my favorite girl.” He smiled broadly. “Good to have you back, baby girl. Get up. Let’s go watch this movie you were supposed to see.”

I shake my head as I pull myself out of my memories.

“Umm. No, too embarrassing to admit. Next.”

“Okay, fine. First time?” He crosses one leg over the other and reclines back, waiting for my response.

“I’m so not telling you that.” I shake my head adamantly.

“You suck.”

“You wish,” I joke back, but he’s no longer laughing. His pupils have dilated, and his breathing has become shallow. “Fine twenty. Another glass—” I stutter, and he lets out a soft laugh, never breaking our connection. “Your turn in the hot seat,” I lift the almost empty glass to my mouth to conceal the sheepish smile playing on my lips.

“Ask me anything you want.” He straightens his shoulders and cracks his knuckles preparing himself. He’s such an ass.

“Okay. First time?” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“Sixteen.” He looks proud as I murmur ‘player’ under my breath.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” He’s such a dork. “Since you won’t tell me your first time, how about your craziest sex location?” My whole face warms.

“Cab,” I mutter under my breath.

“No shit, Princess. I didn’t see that coming. Your turn.”

I eye him with a calculated expression, and then ask, “Ever had a torrid love affair?”

“A few times.”

“Last one?” I try to keep my response composed and indifferent.

“Last summer.” My heartbeat accelerates with his answer.
Last summer?

“Name?”

“Maria.” Oh God, she’s Italian. She’s probably gorgeous with olive skin and green eyes and had—
Why do I even care?
Because I do, and that in itself is troubling and should send up red flags that I’m out of my depth.