Page 84 of Best Wrong Thing

This entire trip has been a tease. Other than for lunch, all our stops have been brief. We’ve been able to see wonderful things but not explore the many trails, instead spending most of our time on the coach, travelling between fantastic destinations.

“Something to add to my bucket list,” I say.

“You want to come back?”

“Definitely.” I risk glancing at him. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

I smile. “Together, maybe?”

“I’d like that.” He moves his hand towards mine but falls short of touching me.

I hate this. Feigning indifference to each other in the villa is one thing, but this trip was supposed to be our chance to be together. It wouldn’t be so bad if Barry were enjoyable company, but he isn’t. His constant sniping at Jacob is wearing me down. Seriously, how has Jacob got to thirty-five without losing his shit at his dad?

Will Jacob and I come back here together? I’d like to think so, but do we have a future? Before talking to Regan, I didn’t fully understand why Jacob was so reticent about revealing our relationship. I respected his fears, but I didn’t get them. But that’s me. I have a rosy-eyed view of the world. I’m Mr Idealistic, and I’ve fallen for Mr Realist. Maybe that’s exactly why I’m so drawn to Jacob. Why we click. We temper each other.

“Is something wrong?” Jacob asks.

I shake myself. “No. Just thinking.”

“About?”

Barry stands at the front of the group, listening to our guide intently, well out of earshot and not looking in our direction. Even so, I don’t risk holding Jacob’s hand, stroking his cheek, or running my fingers through his chaotic hair. “Us.”

His cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “I’m sorry we won’t get to watch the sunset together.”

“We’ll be together.”

“Yeah, with Dad the gooseberry. It’s not his fault.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can take a photo of you. You can’t come to a place like this andnotget a photo of yourself.”

“All right, but I want to take one of you too.”

“Let me.”

My heart leaps at the female voice. I spin around, almost colliding with the woman who’s been on every trip with us, along with her family.

“You should have one photo of the two of you here. Your Dad’s not looking.” She smiles at Jacob.

We stand together, not too close, our postures radiating friends rather than lovers, as the woman takes a photo on Jacob’s phone.

She hands it to him. “I took a few in case either of you were blinking.” With a wink, she returns to her family.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“She thinks I’m in the closet.”

“Huh?”

“She noticed the two of us being affectionate on the last two trips.”

“And now we’re not.”