With her other hand, she lifted her glass. He pulled back and lifted his. She quietly sang, “You’re the one that I want, you are the one I want.”
He grinned and returned, “Ooh-ooh-ooh.”
They finished the prosecco, stood, and left the table hand in hand.
AS THEY WOUND through the Ghetto and back to the center of town, the distant sound of a cello drew them into another piazza. In the middle, a lone cellist sat on a stool, hat at her feet brimming with coins, playing a sonata. After watching for a moment, Nick tugged Sewanee into his arms and began dancing.
As much as she wanted to get back to the hotel, this rhythmic swaying felt like the pinnacle of intimacy and she melted into him. “Can we stay like this forever?”
She felt his chuckle in her chest. “Yes. At least until we have to go back to the real world. Or get hungry.”
They continued dancing. Sewanee knew that beyond Nick’s humor, there was a sobering truth. She knew what she could expect from him in a hotel room; she didn’t know what lay beyond that. She felt safe enough in his arms to ask: “What happens then?”
“Are you asking what my intentions are?” She heard the smile in his voice.
“Kind of. Yeah.”
“Simple. I want to be with you.” At her silence, he pushed her away, coaxing her out into a lazy spin. “What do you want?”
Sewanee smiled back, but exhaled. Long and slow.
Nick reeled her back to him. “Remember, now: there’s nothing more attractive than a woman who knows what she wants.”
His tone was light, all unaffected nonchalance. But she also felt the slightest hint of discomfort.
“I want to know this is real,” she said. “But how can . . . is that even possible?”
“You want the Romance version or the Women’s Fiction version?”
She looked up at him. “Neither. I want the real-life version.”
He spun her back out, thinking. “We do long distance for a while. Until we can organize our lives in such a way that we can be together.” He pulled her back in.
“How?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“But how?”
“We just will.”
“How can you be so confident?”
“Because I believe in us.” He peered down at her. “Don’t you?”
“Of course.” She used the opportunity of ducking under his arm to break eye contact. “But there’s so much going on. So much up in the air. For both of us. Something could happen and then what?”
“Something will happen. Probably many things. We’ll get frustrated. Angry. We’ll disappoint each other. We’ll say things we don’t mean but deep down kinda mean a little.”
“Or worse.”
His feet slowed. “What’s going on?”
She tugged his shoulder toward her, willing him to recommit to the dance, even as she kept her gaze averted. “I think I’m scared.”
“Of?”
“You. You’re . . . you’re like some . . .”
“Yes?”
“Some super-stealth sex weapon that could go rogue at any moment,” she blurted.
Nick belted out a laugh. “What?”
“You’re like the Jason Bourne of Romance. You know things no man should know. A military-grade weapon just walking around in broad daylight.” She widened her eye, leaned into how absurd her fears were, especially as she was now saying them aloud. “How can I know you won’t use your powers for ill?”
Nick answered honestly. “You can’t.”
In for a penny, in for a pound, she supposed. “How can I know you’ll always want me?”
“You can’t.” Again, with a tone of sincerity. His refusal to engage in false reassurances or empty flattery tugged a disconcerted chuckle out of her. “I’m serious. How can you know you’ll always want me? What if I gain a hundred pounds? Lose my hair? My mind. What if, what if, what if?”
“I’d still want you,” she answered seriously.
They stopped dancing, but remained close. He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“Feelings aren’t constant, they’re transient. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not. You can believe in them, but you can’t know them. How can you know what something is before it becomes it? It’s like . . .” His voice faded. “Like a caterpillar and a butterfly.”
“What?”
Nick shook his head. “Nothing. Riffing.” He reached up, pushed her hair off her face. “You just got done telling me you can’t know an HEA until it’s been lived, but now you want a guarantee of getting there?”