WE SIT around a large table in the resort restaurant, an assortment of desserts spread between us. It feels similar to last summer, but somehow, nothing is the same.
Nico’s wandering fingers brush against the palm of my hand beneath the table. At every opportunity, he’s been sneaking small touches. There’s no use fighting him anymore. If anything, I want each of his grazes to be imprinted on my skin. Maybe then, when summer expires, we and these past few months will feel real—not like a fever dream.
“Just want to let you know that you’ve been playing footsie with my right leg for the past several minutes.” Luca’s low voice is directed at Nico.
“Oops, my bad, just a little antsy.” He fibs and tries to ignore my terrible attempt to hide my laughter.
Luca sighs, seemingly unable to find a grain of truth in the lie.
“Nico, now that’s my left foot. Please, cut it out. You’re dirtying my favorite loafers.” He reaches for his drink, almost knocking the small row of candles from the table.
“Whoa, watch out for the open flames, Luca.” I smirk. “Or you may lose another patch of hair.”
“You told her?” Luca whips his head to Avery, who grins into her water and shrugs.
Nico laughs. “Lily Rodin, firefighter extraordinaire.” Luca’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Just predicting how this week will end if you keep testing out your new paternal side on us,” Nico says.
“This week—” Luca starts.
“Hey, come on, let’s be civilized,” Avery sings. “We all have to be on our best behavior for the game.”
“What game?” All three of us say in unison.
“I signed us up to compete.” She points to the podium behind me.
Chairs are set on a large wooden stage, each corner lit with flaming fire pits. An oversized, vivid-green arch of plant life completes the ensemble. The windows behind the stage are pitch-black.
“What are we playing?” I look toward Nico for an answer, but he shakes his head.
People clamor their way toward the big stage.
“The Newlywed Game.” Avery’s voice is confident and bright despite the ridiculousness of what she just said.
I narrow my gaze at her. “I think I forgot to attend my own wedding.”
Staying at this all-inclusive resort makes me miss the luxury of our private London apartment. The only person I had to entertain was the tattooed man sitting next to me, and our games were far more fun than whatever this could be.
“Oh, stop. It’s for a chance for the four of us to win a private yoga session with an expert.” Avery grins at Luca, whose stern, fatherly facade has vanished and is now replaced with a boyish grin sweet enough to be considered charming.
The man is an enigma.
“Don’t these games ruin relationships?” I point out. “One wrong answer, and suddenly you’re wondering if the person beside you is the same one you married.”
“Grim, Rodin, very grim.” Nico kicks me beneath the table. His cheeks are sucked in like he is trying hard to suppress a smile.
It’s true.
“I’d be ready to stake a bet that at least one couple leaves the stage in an argument,” I say. The look in Luca and Avery’s eyes is enough to tell me I shouldn’t have brought it up. “Never mind.”
If there’s one thing that gets the actual newlyweds at our table going, it’s a betting game.
“We know everything about each other.” Luca wraps his arm around my best friend’s waist, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “Don’t we, cariño?” “We’re definitely going to win the yoga session with Davide Benne.”
She beams, her head bobbing up and down in excitement. “Now come on,
you two. Be good sports.”
“The Davide Benne?” Luca rises out of his seat so quickly that he almost drags the tablecloth with him, and Avery furiously nods.
Her face might actually fly off.
“Who?” Nico and I ask at the same time.
“Only the best online yogi. Luca watches him all the time.” Ave rocks on her wedged platforms. “He’s got a bit of a man crush.”
Her husband clears his throat. “You’re both playing.”
My eyes shoot to Nico in a final plea, hoping he’s as unexcited about this idea as I am, but he simply grins. “Anything for my brother.”
I force a happy face, knock down the last sip of my passion fruit martini, and follow them toward the decorated stage. Maybe this is a worthy distraction to keep my mind off the lingering thoughts of plagiarism, the atypical lack of plans for my looming return to New York, and the unsaid things between Nico and me. There’s also telling my pregnant best friend that I’ve lied to her for eight years.
Ugh.
“Princesa.” Nico looks back at me, dragging me out of my daydream. He wraps his hand around mine as we climb the last few steps onto the stage. “We have to look the part.”
Ah fuck it, it’s not the first time we’ve pretended to be married.
Hopefully, it’ll be the last.
All six couples nervously shuffle toward center stage as we receive an introductory game-play walkthrough.
Each participant gets a small whiteboard, the host asks us questions, and we simultaneously write down an answer before revealing it to the group.
If the couple’s answers match, the pair gets the point.
“Reminds me of trivia nights.” My best friend gives me a sad smile, both of us painfully aware those days are behind us. Avery looks over at her husband and mouths, You’re going down.
“We’re on the same team, Ave,” he reminds her, ever the patient and calm soul with her.
“Right.” She glances back at Nico and me. “You’re both going down.” “Stop, you’re scaring everyone.” Nico playfully tosses his marker at
Avery. Luca catches it and curveballs it back at his little brother, striking him square on the head. “Ouch.”
The host’s voice crackles through the speakers. “Are you all ready to get started?”
A wave of applause erupts from the audience. The rest of the participants on the stage join the clatter of hands.
“Alright, couples, complete this sentence: I knew I found the love of my life when she… You have ten seconds, starting now.”
I blink up at Nico, searching for some hint or clue, but he’s already scribbling something. My eyes land on Avery and Luca as they’re both about to burn a hole in their boards.
Okay.
Time trickles down, and my clammy palms struggle to write down the first thing that comes to mind.
“Hold up your boards,” the host commands, and we all reveal our answers.
I quickly glance over to Nico, skimming the words on his board: Buried me in a sand grave.
It’s a match.
We stare at each other, gobsmacked.
Luca’s stare is sharp enough to drill through our skulls.
Ave realizes the battle of eyes between us and glances at our boards, trying to see what the fuss is all about. When she catches our matching answers, her lips curl upward, and she knowingly nudges my arm with her elbow.
“What the fuck, Nico? Are you cheating?” Luca scowls.
“Bloody hell, Todd. You gotta be joking.” A middle-aged woman in a high-neck cowl dress scowls at her partner across the way. Their board reads: When she shagged me.
“See, Ave, one relationship already ruined,” I say.
“Good, less competition.” She focuses her attention back on the host. “Next question. If you asked your husband what color lingerie you
should wear, what would he choose?” This game is gross.
Why aren’t there any questions asking the wives what color dish gloves their husbands should wear?
“Everyone in this room is going to be picturing us in lingerie now,” I whisper to Avery, who makes no effort to entertain my humor. A game face is ironed on her features.
“We only have ten seconds. Hush.”
Right.
I write purple because it’s the color panties he ripped off me the night I tied him up on the London balcony.
The timer sounds; another correct answer. Nico flashes me his signature grin.
The fire pits by the stage must be causing the sweat to trickle down the back of my neck.
“Where was the wildest place you two did the deed?” The host scrunches his face into an exaggerated wink as members of the audience gasp and murmur.
Luca stretches his neck to look over at Nico. “Your board better stay blank.”
Nico waves him off and returns to his writing.
“Luca, focus.” Avery attempts to kick her husband with her foot, but he’s sitting out of reach. Part of me wants to write every place down just to get a big rise out of Luca.
The hammocks, the beach, the outdoor shower, the indoor shower, the first class seats, the balcony, the museum in Amsterdam.
I scramble to write something. The timer goes off. We reveal our answers.
Three points for Nico and me.
Avery glances over at our boards. “The museum?”
“What museum?” Luca’s eyes are wide, his own board blank.
“A paddleboat?” I catch Avery’s board, and we laugh hard enough to rock our bamboo chairs against each other.
“Thought you guys didn’t have sex.” Luca’s nostrils flare, sweat dripping off his face.
“Wild coincidence.” Nico shrugs, biting back a smirk.
For the next three rounds, each of us scores a point. Avery grows more frustrated that we’re an entire point ahead as if losing this silly game is the end of the world. The flaring of her nostrils finally cools when Nico and I get a question wrong.
What’s your husband’s favorite color? I randomly wrote down blue because it’s the color of the Flight Falcon logo, and I didn’t really have anything else to go off. Nico’s answer was green.
“Really?” I whisper. “Green?”
“Your eyes.”
He says it so casually, but my heart is nearly about to explode.
Only the four of us remain on the stage as the host makes an elaborate display of walking around us like we’re circus animals. “Time for the tie- breaking kiss. Which of these couples has the best lip work?”
Ew.
“You aren’t doing that.” Luca reaches over and nudges Nico’s arm, and my fingers curl loosely in my palm. This game of scolding is getting a bit excessive for my liking.
“Relax.” I glare at Luca.
“Luca, think of Davide Benne,” Avery urges.
“It’s a tiebreaker, which means if we kiss, we’ve won. They don’t need to,” he explains to Avery, but the host’s voice booms again, not giving her a chance to fight him on it.
“Who’d like to go first?”
Luca stands, extends his hand to help Avery to her feet, and walks with her toward the center of the stage. A bright, retina-searing light shines on them. Ave yanks at Luca’s tie, dragging his face to hers, and kisses him deeply. The crowd hoots with applause when my best friend walks back to her seat, her presence vivid enough to rival the sun.
“Now, our second couple.” The host waves at Nico and me, gesturing for us to take our places beneath the light.
Nico doesn’t move. His eyes run over my face as he waits for me to decide how we’re going to play this round of the game. My gaze bounces from the anticipatory crowd to Avery’s eyes, brimming with excitement, to Luca’s attempt at a neutral expression.
Oh, fuck it.
I hate being told what I can and can’t do. Even if it’s for my own good. My hand wraps around Nico’s.
“Catch me,” I whisper against his ear and take the faintest breath, collapsing backward. Nico’s quick enough to piece together the move. His arms wrap around my waist for support as he catches me only a few inches from the stage floor. A beat of time passes as I hang in the warm hold of his embrace.
I connect my lips with his.
We kiss the kind of kiss that always fills me with an edge of worry and euphoria. It seems to last forever. Each swipe of our tongues is like a crawl
to the finish line. For the sake of theatrics, I stretch one of my legs around Nico’s sturdy thigh.
The eruption from the audience is twice what it was for Avery and Luca. “Looks like we have our winning couple,” the host says into the microphone, prompting Nico to pull me closer and lift me into a spin until I’m settled on my feet beside him. My head is dizzy from more than the
silly performative swirl.
“We put on a good show.” I smile up at him, my heart beating fiercely in my chest.
“Two months of method acting will do that.”
 |
NICO
r u gonna tell her?
LILY
Don’t think so :/ I can’t stress her out before our spa day
NICO
seems like it may be the best time to mention it
tomorrow is your bday, it would suck to do it then
LILY
I’ll worry about Ave. You worry about Luca not drowning you
NICO
he would miss me too much
would u miss me?
Of course I would.
LILY
Maybe
NICO
love it when ur coy
I stare at my phone, trying to wash down the eruption of my heartbeat whacking at my chest. This entire exchange is making me feel like I’m talking to a high school crush.
LILY
No. You just love it when anyone talks about you
NICO
just you
only when u talk about me
or when u talk to me, are around me, come bc of me
“Who are you texting?” Avery’s voice sounds from behind me.
I toss my phone into my bag and face her. “Um…Molly.” What’s another lie to add to the bucket I have to dump on her?
“Tell her I say hi.” Avery walks toward me with two green smoothies. She hands me one, then sits next to me on the beach chair. “This spot is so cute.”
We’re in a private beachside cabana. Above us, a canopy of linen and bamboo blocks the bright sun.
The beach is similar to the one where I spent most of my days in Rio, and part of me aches to return to that time.
Avery gives me a soft tap on the knee. “Everything alright?”
I face her, wanting to talk about the email I received from Grand City Institute this morning.
“So, I have to take next semester off college because I missed my class registration deadline.” I sigh. When I read the email, my thoughts bounced between relief and dread.
It’s strange how your life can morph and change in a few weeks without you even realizing it. But two months after deciding to ditch returning to New York, I’m struggling to reconcile the parts of me I’ve always kept close to my chest.
Avery places one of her warm hands on my knee. “I know how important this degree is to you, but this could be a good thing. You’ve changed your major so many times. This might be a sign for you to pause and reflect on what you truly want, Lily.”
“Maybe.” I say, not feeling convinced. “I just don’t want to prolong my degree any longer.”
But if I was being honest with myself, the idea of going back to school amidst everything feels overwhelming.
“Of course, you don’t. Though, occasionally, time away from something so important can help provide a new perspective.”
“That’s true.” It’s possible that all I need right now is for things to settle down, and I can return to school feeling revitalized.
“Either way, I’m proud of you for taking the summer off and giving yourself a break. Never once have I seen you this…I don’t know how to describe it. You have something new about you.” She swings her legs over the side of the beach chair and leans in to inspect me. “I can’t seem to place it, though.”
Huh, where to start?
I became a bestselling author who had her work plagiarized. I’m having wild sex with your brother-in-law, who’s the only person that’s seen almost every side of me and didn’t want to turn away. Oh, and I’ve fallen in—
No. Nope. I can’t let my brain try to make sense of that right now.
This could be the perfect time to tell her all of this, but the words struggle to leave my lips. “Everything is just as it was at the beginning of this summer.”
“I don’t believe you even a little bit.” Avery’s eyebrows raise. “The kiss you had on stage with Nico yesterday was something special.”
“You know I like to be flashy.” I attempt to dodge the topic.
“Mhmm,” she says, seemingly unconvinced. “You also don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve.”
“I don’t think putting vital organs on display is advised by medical professionals.”
“Sure, lover girl, you can try keeping up this made of stone act as long as you want, but I know you better than that.” Avery shrugs, but she doesn’t pry any further.
A beat passes between us, and I clear my throat. “Tell me about what newlyweds do on their honeymoon and all about Molly’s yacht.”
“Well, there’s been a lot of yoga, like the session you won yesterday, and plenty of stretching off of the mat.” Avery giggles. “Honestly, I still can’t believe I’m gonna be a mom.”
“Well, as long as you had sex in the captain’s quarters, you’ll be the coolest mom I know.”
