Page 38

“Wanderlust”

The entrance to the Blue Grotto appears no bigger than a tiny mouth in the Capri coastline, a dark hole that, from the yacht, looks like it could barely fit a mouse. I lose Fielder to his nonna, who shuffles to the back of the boat along with everyone else to await instructions from the captain.

We keep exchanging prolonged, heated looks.

Turning the image of him striding toward me over and over again in my mind, I can’t shake how mind-blowingly hot he looked with a sense of determination I haven’t seen from him in so long.

Wonder fills his eyes.

The captain translates instructions from the tour guide, who has come aboard from a gozzo that tied up to us.

“Some information and rules. You can only enter the grotto by rowboat. It’s a natural cavern about twenty-five meters wide and sixty meters long, and the entrance is less than one meter high.

” He demonstrates the height with his hands.

“We have a few rowboats waiting for you all, but these can only fit up to four, including your guide. When you enter, you must lie back flat in the boats in order to keep your head.”

“Keep your head?!” Fielder’s nonna says. “Sounds dangerous.”

“I’ve done it before, it’s perfectly safe,” Dad leans in and says reassuringly. “With my father as a boy. It’s something you’ll never forget.”

“Once inside,” the captain says, “you’ll be in for a couple of magical minutes.”

“Can we swim inside?” Tyler asks.

“No. Swimming is not allowed. It’s very dangerous,” the captain says.

“I thought you said it’s not dangerous,” Nonna Lemon asks.

“I wanna swim!” Jenni Lee slurs.

The captain looks at her and says, “No to this one. Liability.”

“I’ll stay back with her,” Trav says, disappointed. His fists clench in frustration.

“So, who’s first up?” the captain asks. “Our tour guides have two boats that will circle back until everyone has a chance to go in.”

“Topher, you should go in the first boat, since you so generously brought us all here,” Gabriella says, quickly adding, “With Sienna. Obviously. ” Then she leans into the captain and whispers so loudly we all hear her perfectly.

“You said the boats fit up to four, including the tour guide. Maybe I can hop in their boat?”

“Gabriella!” Guisy shouts. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m just saying, there’s room!” Gabriella laughs it off, but we all know she’s serious. If she could edge my sister out entirely, she would.

“Let the kids have the boat to themselves,” Rosa says. “The three of us can go together once they’re back.”

“Great idea.” Sienna’s voice is sharp. “The Blue Grotto awaits the magical stylings of the Coven.” She smiles sweetly, but her sass can slice glass.

Benny gasps. “Gooped and also gagged. I nominate Fielder and Ricky for the other boat. Just Fielder and Ricky. It’s time we cut to the chase and wrap up this storyline. Some of us have places to be.”

Monroe, Tyler, and Matty all whoop and holler.

I could kill Benny, and then thank him with a gift card to his favorite restaurant, LongHorn Steakhouse, to thank him for saying what everyone else is clearly thinking.

Everyone steps aside.

I feel a momentary pang of guilt for Cam, but he did say I was free to explore what I needed to with Fielder, so I take a deep breath and release it.

Fielder and I converge at the back of the superyacht.

The tour guide speaks very slowly in broken English. “Get comfortable together. It will be a bumpy ride in.”

Topher and Sienna move into their boat first, and he tosses up a “hang loose” hand signal and screams, “Let’s goooooooo!”

“You want me to go first, make sure it’s safe?

” I ask Fielder, who nods rapidly. Once inside, I do a cursory inspection for show, making sure to balance myself so that he sees how steady it is.

The small, white wooden rowboats have a deep V-hull built to cut through the waves smoothly.

“Sturdy. Good craftsmanship.” I give Fielder a thumbs-up, then hold out a hand for him. “I got you.”

Once we’re inside, our bodies are in such close proximity to each other we’re basically cuddling on the floor of the boat. I should have put my shirt back on, but Fielder doesn’t seem to mind, staring more at my skin than the rocky cliffs around the grotto.

The tour guide winks. “Lean-a back e enjoy!”

There are dozens of rowboats and gozzos wading in the sea outside the grotto’s entrance. The closer we get, the rockier the waves are, and Fielder grasps for me.

“I got you,” I whisper again.

His breath beats against me.

“How long-a you two, eh, being in love?” the tour guide asks.

Fielder looks to me, and I drown in his turquoise blue eyes. “Oh, um, we’re—”

“Our entire lives,” I answer, mouth dry, a bit breathless.

“Bellissimo!” He clasps his hands. “I sing a song just for you two inside.” When we both look at him, wide-eyed, he says, “It’s customary for, eh, sing.” He motions in front of his chest, as if casting a spell.

“Grazie,” I offer, and he nods in gratitude.

Fielder studies my face, his hand resting comfortably on my stomach.

“Ricky, before we do anything, we need to talk about . . .” His voice is a whisper so low it crashes with the waves against the rocks ahead. “Cam.”

“I don’t want to talk about Cam right now,” I say.

Rowing closer to the mouth of the cave, the tour guide hooks the rowboat onto a pull chain. “Okay, ready? Stay low! Have-a you camera ready!”

But Fielder doesn’t move.

“You’re not going to record this? You record everything.”

“I don’t want to miss it,” Fielder says. His heart beats so fast against his ribs it vibrates against my chest.

“You won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

Sliding his phone out just as the rowboat bobs toward the opening, he fumbles with it, holds it out over us, and presses Record. He’s not paying attention to the camera though, focusing entirely on me, us, and the grotto.

“Ready?” the tour guide asks. “Hold your breath, make a wish.”

He counts to three, and a swell from the sea pushes us toward the mouth of the cave, which gulps us into the darkness.

I pull him close, and he grips the underside of my body.

He sucks in a breath, and I don’t know how it happens, but one second I see a flash of the most brilliant blue emanating from under the water, illuminating the dark, dank walls of the cave in jewel tones, and the next second, I see Fielder’s blue eyes level with mine. His lips so close I can taste them.

I hold my breath and close my eyes.

“You’ll miss it,” he says.

“Not this time.”

I bridge the gap between us.

Almost.

Our lips hover over each other, the pull so strong they’re made of magnets.

“Ricky, I lo—”

I kiss him before he can say it.

It’s tender and soft, his lips fitting with mine so perfectly that I don’t know how I lived without kissing him for so long.

It’s like breath after being trapped underwater.

Every ounce of fear and trepidation and uncertainty that’s been twisting me up every single day of this last year, wondering whether I made the right decision to leave Fielder, vanishes.

My lungs deflate into him, our bodies fusing.

He whimpers, a desperate sigh of relief and passion, and pulls me toward him with great force, and we devour each other.

I don’t care about the grotto or the tour guide or the hunger of the sea; all I want is Fielder, so much so that I fight to hold back tears.

He releases my lips, and I search for his in the dark.

“Fielder?” I open my eyes.

He’s staring at me, smiling like a goof. “Making sure you’re real.”

I grab his face and hold it gently in my hands. His eyes flutter as he leans his cheeks into the roughness of my palms.

“Piccioncini!” the tour guide exclaims.

“What’d he call us?” Fielder whispers.

“I think it means ‘lovebirds,’ ” I say.

The tour guide nods, then says, “For you.” He launches into a rousing edition of “Bella Notte,” singing in an operatic voice so loud it echoes off the rock walls and rebounds.

Though it feels strangely American singing an old Disney song, other tour guides on different boats don’t hesitate to follow suit, and suddenly the cave is booming in song. It’s like they’re singing for us.

We hoist each other upright to get a better view, and the bright blue glow radiating from below us is nothing short of magic.

A scene from a Disney movie brought to life.

Fit for a prince and his craftsman.

The gentle rocking of the boat lulls us deeper into our own fairy tale.

“This is incredible,” Fielder says, panning the camera around the grotto, getting every angle, until he lands on me. “And so is this .” He places a hand on my knee and squeezes as “Bella Notte” swells to a climax.

“I don’t want to leave,” I blurt after the song dies.

The hand holding Fielder’s phone falls gently into his lap.

“Ricky, I have to tell you something that I’ve been wanting to ever since we landed, and I’m afraid that I won’t once we’re out of this cave because life is messy and this is messy and I’m a freaking mess, but I have to say it. I love you, Ricky DeLuca.”

Like a reflex, the phrase I always said in response to Fielder leaves my lips. “More than you know.”

His upper lip twitches.

I lean forward and peck it softly.

When I pull back, his eyes are cloudy.

That’s when it hits me. The last time he told me he loved me, I didn’t say it back, and my stomach drops as the boat dips into the bowel of a wave surge. He moves beside me and rests his head on my shoulder, weaving his fingers in between mine.

I open my mouth, but the words never come out.

“It’s time for us to be getting back,” the tour guide says, paddling us back toward the mouth of the cave. Motioning with his hands, he instructs us to duck down.

We slide into the cavity of the rowboat together.

I hold tight to his hand, and he curls into me like a missing puzzle piece locking into place. I don’t close my eyes, so his face is the first thing I see, bathed in the sunlight.

The ride back to the yacht is far too short, and I don’t want this moment to end.

Before we sit up, he steals a quick kiss, and we breathe together, sinking into each other. Deep inhale, long exhale. “For the road.”

“I—” There are a million things I want to say, but nothing comes out.

He sits up.

We move apart as we reach the yacht.

Fielder goes first, hoisting himself out of the rowboat and back into the yacht, suddenly surrounded by the entire bridal party asking how it was and what to expect.

Dad and Mom are eagerly waiting to ask me how it was when someone steps in front of them to greet me first.

“What’d I miss?” Cam asks.

Story

@LemonAtFirstSight 15min ago

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HOT MIC AUDIO TRANSCRIPT: . . . this is messy and I’m a freaking mess, but I have to say it. I love you, Ricky DeLuca.

12 COMMENTS

Grouchy.1505

RICKYxLEMON! I knew it!!

View 4 replies

Joey_Italiano

I’m gonna cry they are so adorable

Lemonstan007

i’ve been waiting for so long for this! they were always goals!!

amithedrama

Wow I heard Ricky was in a new relationship.

Guess not.

amithedrama

This is really disgusting behavior and rude to bf.

amithedrama

Fielder Lemon is a homewrecker