CHAPTER 7

“Sparks Fly (Taylor’s Version)” – Taylor Swift

IT’S 6 AM, AND I’M wide awake.

Everything about last night felt like some extended lucid dream. Kissing the lips of my crush after these many years, and then having a conversation with his best friend over something only my best friend knows about, is really piquing my whole impostor syndrome.

Of course my phone stopped functioning as soon as I tried calling Georgia back last night. But she’s still at work right now, so I’ll have to try again later today.

Sleep brought some more sense into my logic, knowing how Enrique still suggested to meet again. And tomorrow will be here in no time.

I know I’m in a good mood when I forget to turn down the volume of my playlist after stepping out of the shower. As I’m changing into my marigold crop top and white denim skirt, I hear three loud thuds vibrate off the wall behind my bed .

Then Luca’s voice startles me from the window, interrupting my karaoke session of one. “Could you not throw your party until after I’m awake?! Or maybe close your window?”

Shit. I guess I forgot to close the window last night. Needing the extra air after both of those conversations.

I lean forward from the balcony and notice how his window is also open. Feeling guilty for waking him up, I call, “Sorry!”

A lack of response makes me think that he’s thankfully already asleep again.

Once I’m ready, I knock on Luca’s door first. I wonder if he’s doing anything fun today. Not that I particularly want to join him, but I’m not really used to doing things by myself. I like spending time with other people, and he just happens to be the only other person here that I know. But there’s no response.

After returning from breakfast (aka me swallowing three pancakes and a cup of grapefruit juice), I knock on Luca’s door again. Still no response.

I almost give up and decide to make my own plans, when I hear him from behind me. “If you’re trying to break in at least don’t be so obvious.”

I turn around while rolling my eyes, but then abruptly pause.

Luca’s hair is so disheveled, he’s covered in sweat, and to my dismay, adjusting his shirt as if he just put it back on.

“I wasn’t,” I say. “I wanted to see what plans you had for today.”

“So that you could ruin them?” he takes a guess.

I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know?”

“I’m meeting Sofia at the gallery we work at,” he says. “We’re organizing a few things.”

He’s not inviting me, so I guess it’s time to invite myself. “That sounds like fun. Do you mind if I join? ”

“It’s not as glamorous as you might be thinking. Besides, I thought you wanted to make all these ‘ big plans ?’” he gestures with his hands.

“Exactly,” I confirm. “This is the one free day I have so I thought I’d offer to spend it with you.”

“How generous of you,” he says, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. “I’ll be ready in thirty minutes. I have to take a shower.”

While I wait for him to get ready, I notice how things weren’t awkward the way I wondered they’d be after last night. Maybe it’s the fact that our conversation was one that was so personal for me that it’s oddly made me the very opposite of anxious for once. Comfortable even. Something I’m not used to.

_________

I’m not sure what I was expecting Luca’s car to look like. Definitely not the steel grey sports car that he approaches when we reach the resort’s valet. While I’m busy analyzing this frivolous detail, I almost miss how he’s opened the passenger door for me, reminding myself to take my smile down a notch at a gesture I’ve also never experienced before.

But as soon as I relax onto the cozy leather seat, I realize the car matches him pretty well. Complex, mysterious, and effortlessly appealing.

“How far is the gallery?” I ask.

“About 30 minutes,” Luca says, “sometimes 45 with traffic.”

“Do you mind if I play music?”

“I don’t know…” he hesitates purposefully. “Can I trust you?”

“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”

It takes me a bit longer to find my playlist, suddenly distracted by his side profile, the few freckles by his cheek and the curve of his golden lashes now standing out.

Luca touches the screen to the page where I can connect my phone to, redirecting my attention to his long and toned fingers that I not only held during surfing, but also felt on my shoulders. And devastatingly just for a second on my hips.

I quickly search for the shuffle button, trying to snap myself out of this temporary lust, when the first song that starts playing is “Bailando” by Enrique Iglesias. This is 100% a sign. My attention, luckily, is back where it’s supposed to be.

“It’s fate,” I gush out loud, more so to myself.

Luca must have heard me when his brows furrow. “What’s fate?”

“This artist’s name is also Enrique,” I explain.

“Isn’t this your playlist?”

“Yeah, but this song came on right when I pressed shuffle.”

“Oh. Right. Makes perfect s ense,” he deadpans.

I raise a brow at him. “I take it that you don’t really believe in fate then?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he glares at the road, before replying, “I think the more you think about something, the more everything around you starts to feel like it revolves around that one thing. And then you mistake a coincidence for fate when your awareness is what really changed.”

His lack of a direct response doesn’t go unnoticed.

More signs point toward an opposition, but he also didn’t flat out say no.

I reply, “Yeah, my reasoning sounds a lot more fun.”

“ Totally. Convincing yourself something’s true even when it’s not does sound fun. And super healthy too,” he says .

“Well it’s what’s kept me sane all these years,” I argue. “So I’d appreciate it if you would just let me continue to live in my delusions.”

His features soften, and he looks like he’s about to say something but doesn’t.

While rolling down my window, a string of purple beads catches my attention. “I think someone left their bracelet here.”

“What?” Luca asks, glancing over for a moment.

It probably would be best not to distract him while he’s driving, and so I pick up the piece before speculating. “ Wait .” My increased volume only reflects my growing excitement. “Is this an Eras Tour friendship bracelet?!”

He gives another quick glance and confirms, “Yeah. Where did you find that?”

“In the door pocket,” I reply.

“I must have left it here after the concert,” he explains. “Sofia and I made them for the Madrid show.”

“I can’t believe you got to go.”

“We almost didn’t. Sofia, my mom, and I were glued to our phones as soon as the international tickets were released, and somehow my mom managed to get two tickets.”

“I guess you got lucky. How was it?” I ask.

“Insanely good,” he says with a slight curve to his lips. “And that’s saying a lot since I think I saw the film at least three times before we went.”

“Okay I think your sister and I might be just as obsessed.” I smile wide. “It’s nice that you went with her.”

“Our friends don’t really listen to Taylor Swift’s music as much as we do so we decided to go together,” he says.

My eyes widen. “You listen to Taylor too?”

“I thought that was obvious,” Luca says, his brows creased.

“ Why would that be obvious?”

“Why would I go to her tour?”

“I thought you went for Sofia,” I say.

“And why’d you ask it like that ?” he says, looking at me with brows raised.

“Ask what like that?”

“That I listen to her music,” he clarifies. “You sounded so surprised.”

“I don’t know. I guess I kind of am. I know Enrique doesn’t really listen to her,” I explain, remembering this detail from years ago.

“So you just assumed I don’t as well?” he says, amused.

I shrug. “Okay. My bad. I just haven’t met many guys that like her music. I think it’s amazing that you do, though.”

“I think social media just makes it seem that not as many guys listen to her,” he says, “but I remember in college I knew quite a few guys that did.”

“I think you’re right. I also love how her Folklore and Evermore albums widened her audience a lot more,” I say. “It made me happy to see people who maybe dismissed her work before finally appreciate her artistry.”

“ Evermore was her first album that had no skips for me,” Luca shares.

When his eyes light up as he says this, my heart skips a beat. I could talk to him about this all day. “Someone has taste,” I say. “Favorite song?”

“On Evermore ?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “In general.”

“That’s impossible to choose. It depends on my mood.”

“That’s fair.”

“Although recently I can’t stop listening to ‘Hoax,’” he says .

“The bridge in that one is actually sickening,” I add.

There is so much to unpack here. Finding someone who shares a similar passion that spans decades of admiration for arguably my favorite artist is something that only happens once in a blue moon.

I want to know more, and so I ask, “Have you always liked her music?”

“Not until I listened to Speak Now ,” Luca replies, “but Sofia’s been a fan since the beginning.”

That explains the purple theme for the bracelet.

I no longer care if my smile looks embarrassingly wide. “This is amazing. We have so much we need to discuss.”

“I’m guessing you’re a fan,” he says with a smirk. “Do you have a favorite album?”

“Sometimes my favorite changes, but I think Fearless would have to be my favorite overall. You?”

“ Speak Now or Folklore ,” he answers. “There’s a few songs from Fearless that I also really like. I’ve noticed even if an album might not be my favorite, some of my favorite songs can still be on it.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I express. Being used to vague descriptions from guys in regard to music, Luca’s responses are not only making him even more attractive, but it’s also so refreshing to see. As I glance out the window, I’m reminded of the song he just brought up. “Now I can’t get the background music of ‘Hoax’ out of my head,” I say before I attempt to hum the melody.

He snorts so loudly that I almost don’t hear the music that’s still filling the car. “Are you sure you were singing a Taylor Swift song just now?”

Before I even have a chance to react, I finally read what the bracelet says. “Shut up! ”

Luca almost jolts in his seat. “What?”

“This says ‘Foolish One,’” I explain, my eyes beaming. “That’s one of my all-time favorite songs from Taylor.”

“Sofia made that one for me,” he says with a tone that implies confusion on his sister’s song choice for her brother.

“So she also thinks you’re delusional when it comes to love?” I tease, noting how that doesn’t sound like Luca from the little I’ve learned about him.

He raises a brow, his lips curving to the side. “I wouldn’t say I’m as delusional as you, but I’ve definitely had my moments.”

Oh now I’m intrigued. “What kind of moments?”

“Ones where I don’t particularly feel the need to share,” he replies a little cockily.

“So they’re recent moments?” I guess.

He glances over at me, a flicker of amusement tracing his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?”

Literally every person that I meet. Of course that’s not what I tell him. I try to explain, “I think it’s equal parts me being naturally curious, but to some extent also searching for understanding through others’ experiences.” I look out the window again, this time more solemnly. “I guess I try to look for a common ground to maybe feel a little less weird about how I am.”

Luca’s eyes lose their playfulness. “I wasn’t trying to imply that it’s a bad thing. And I don’t think waiting to do something until you feel you’re ready makes you weird.”

So he remembers everything that I told him last night, and didn’t forget anything the way I had hoped for?

I sigh. “By the way, sorry for ruining your night.”

He shakes his head. “You didn’t ruin my night. It was one of the more interesting conversations I’ve had in a while actually. ”

“I still can’t believe I told you all that,” I admit, slumping down the passenger seat, continuing to dwell on my lack of a filter that’s only emphasized when my anxiety is at an all-time high (aka last night). “As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough, now someone else knows about this.”

“I told you I won’t tell Enrique,” Luca reassures.

“No I mean, I wish I didn’t tell you either.”

“You think I’m going to make fun of you for it?” He sounds genuinely insulted. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“It’s not about you. I’ve never talked about this with anyone other than my best friend and my mom. But I freaked out last night and well…you know the rest,” I say, taking a deep breath.

“I understand.” His voice softens. “I won’t bring it up again if it bothers you.”

“No it doesn’t bother me. It’s just a lot of firsts,” I explain. “Like having lunch the other day with a bunch of guys also felt new for me. I’ve never even had guy friends. Hence why I don’t really know what I’m saying half the time around any of you.” I sigh.

“You think guys know what they’re saying around girls?” Luca counters. “No one really knows what they’re doing. We’re all just winging it and hoping for the best.”

“That’s a relief to hear,” I admit.

Then something I didn’t even consider earlier enters my mind.

“Oh and about the experience thing, it’s not that I’ve never had the opportunity. I’ve been asked out before.” My awkward phrasing at the very least matches everything else.

“I don’t doubt that,” Luca says in a tone that I can’t quite read.

“I’m being serious,” I say .

“So am I.” His forehead creases as he glances over at me. “Why would I be sarcastic about something that clearly seems this personal to you?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I can’t really tell when you’re being sarcastic.”

“ Really ?” he exaggerates.

So he sees through my words. Since in reality, I’ve been picking up on his sarcasm pretty well.

I guess it feels a bit odd to think I’m finally being understood by a guy for once.

Growing more self-conscious, I add, “Just clarifying that it’s mainly been my own decision to wait.” That’s only partially true. Given how there’s a multitude of reasons as to why it hasn’t happened yet. Reason’s that even he doesn’t know about yet.

“You don’t need to explain the reason to me,” Luca offers sincerely.

I sigh at his simplicity. “If only everyone would react that way.”

“Well everyone isn’t important,” he emphasizes. “If a loser is going to ridicule you about something like this, it speaks more about them than it does about you.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a little better after hearing this.

Even though Georgia has said something similar to me previously, hearing a guy confirm it as well makes it seem more validating. I know how this sounds, and I’d like to think that I’m smarter than this. I know I am. His opinion isn’t any more meaningful than my friend’s, so this is yet another layer of my insecurities resurfacing.

My eyes widen when we pull into a street filled with small shops and boutiques just minutes later. “Are we already here?” I ask.

“Yup,” Luca confirms.

“That felt like ten minutes.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” he says facetiously.

I scoff. “And I thought that I was the most sarcastic person that I know.”

“I thought you couldn’t tell when I was being sarcastic?” he says, raising a brow at me, smugly knowing that he just proved a point.

I bite down on my smile. It’s hard to keep up with his wit. But I also find myself not knowing how to stop.

_________

The gallery is also nothing like I expected it to be. Thinking it would just be filled with paintings, I’m surprised to find pieces of pottery in the corners and intricate sculptures in the center. The tones are bright, yet balanced. Some vibrant, others more subdued. It’s hard to focus on one standout piece though, when the room is filled with the most vivid color palette.

My attention is redirected when a woman quickly comes from the back, struggling to hold a few boxes. Luca rushes over to help her, but she insists, “I got it.” The box on the top slowly slips from her hands as he catches it. She turns her face to the side that was previously covered by the cardboard, when I notice how much she resembles Luca.

He immediately confirms my suspicions. “Sofia, those took hours to find. I thought we agreed on carrying them one at a time?”

As she moves closer, I really start noticing the similarities. She has the same shade of dirty blonde hair and golden tan from the summer sun as her brother. Her height is several inches shorter than him, but she’s still pretty tall. The main difference I pick up on is how her eyes are a few shades greener than her brother’s, almost teal rather than pure blue.

The sparkle in her eyes continues to brighten while she walks toward me with a wide grin. “Are you Jasmine?”

“Yeah.” I smile back, wondering how she knows my name.

That would mean Luca talked to her about me, right?

Sofia’s voice brings my focus back. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet sooner. I’ve been running around all week preparing for this art festival.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” I say. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Please excuse my short replies right now,” she says while walking toward the back again. “Just give me a few minutes, and we can go grab a cup of coffee. I can’t wait to hear all about your stay so far!”

“No worries. Take your time,” I say before turning my attention back to Luca. “Your sister’s so bubbly. I wonder where she gets it from.”

“Subtle. Nice,” he says, feigning a smile.

“I find it interesting how you told her about me,” I add coyly, pretending to look at the paintings.

“Yeah, I told her how I met someone clumsier than her,” Luca deadpans.

The moment I’m about to reply, a stunning portrait of the beach catches my full attention. It’s so vivid that it looks more like a picture than a painting. But my brows immediately furrow when I notice how the artist has the same first name as Luca. It’s then that it occurs to me how I don’t know his last name yet. I doubt this is his picture though.

He said he does finance .

Before I have a chance to ask him, Sofia’s back.

She sets another batch of boxes onto the counter that Luca’s now sitting at and asks, “Do you mind bringing the rest? My shoulder’s already sore, and I still have a day’s worth of paperwork to fill out.”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says.

“You’re the best. I love you,” she says, leaning forward to kiss the side of his hair.

He quickly pushes back with a look of disgust, making me giggle to myself. “We’re still doing that?”

“Bye!” Sofia replies as she walks toward me. “There’s a café a few shops down,” she says, before locking her arms with mine as we exit the gallery and fall into steps with each other on the sidewalk.

When we sit down with our coffees, she looks at me with a mischievous smile. “Luca didn’t mention how pretty you are.”

I immediately blush. “Oh you’re too kind. Look at yourself? You’re stunning.”

“Aw thank you.” She takes a sip of her drink. “You’re from California, right?”

“Yes, Dove Cove.”

“I miss living there especially during the summertime,” she says, her eyes glimmering just like her brother’s.

“I know it’s so picturesque during the summer. Does your family also go back pretty often?” I ask.

“No,” she explains. “We don’t have family there, so we rarely go. Luca goes more often though with Enrique, like this year.”

“Yeah, I heard. I didn’t see him there though. I just saw Enrique. ”

“You like him, right?” Her question catches me so off guard that for a second I wonder who she’s referring to until she clarifies, “Enrique.”

Feeling dumb for even considering that she might have been referring to her brother, I regain my focus. “Yeah. I do. I’m not sure if he likes me though.”

“That’s just how Enrique is,” Sofia explains. “He loves everybody. So sometimes it’s hard to tell if he really likes you. I’ve also had a few friends that had a crush on him. And they were just as confused.”

“ Great ,” I say with a nervous chuckle. “Honestly it’s nice to get a woman’s perspective. Luca doesn’t speak anything but good things about him since they’re so close.”

“There’s that, but Luca’s also so hush-hush,” she says with a gesture of her hands. “It’s honestly annoying sometimes, even though it makes him loyal as hell. Like I had to practically beg him just to find out more about you.”

Hearing her say this assures me even more that my secret’s safe with Luca. But also increases my heartbeat, wondering what exactly he said to her.

Then my shoulders grow more tense, realizing how I’m more confused now than before I got here. “Even when I feel like I’m finally learning more about men, all of a sudden I feel like I know less than when I started.”

She puts down her coffee, nodding. “Literally same. That’s why I try not to get attached to just one crush. I probably have like three at a time.”

“The statistics for success just seem higher that way,” I add.

“Exactly. And I’m no expert in stats, but have you seen Luca and Enrique’s friend group?” Her eyes widen the same way mine did when I saw them all shirtless yesterday .

“Like the ones who they surf with?” I ask.

“Yes!” she replies.

I purse my lips. “Okay. They’re all beautiful.”

She chortles. “I tried going surfing with them once, I crashed so hard in a wave since I was busy doing more important things…”

“Staring at their abs?” I guess.

“I’m too old to admit that out loud, but I also don’t care. So yes. And the ocean punished me for it. And I never surfed again .”

I nod, deeply relating to this. “Surfing is so scary honestly, and I feel the same way about the ocean. It’s equally stunning and terrifying.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she says. “Besides, I’m much more comfortable reading on the sand while sunbathing.”

“Sounds like a perfect afternoon to me.” I grin at how similar we seem. “Have you gone out with any of his friends?” Part of me now wonders if she ever liked Enrique as well, considering how she also thinks the rest of his friends are attractive.

“No I haven’t. Unfortunately. Luca always tells me that they’re off-limits. And I’m like ‘says who?’ You ? I don’t think so.” She sighs wistfully. “If I’m lucky, one day.”

I giggle along with her, asking, “You’re younger than Luca, right?”

“No I’m actually older,” she answers. “I just turned 29, and I’m already dreading turning 30. I feel so old . I’m sorry if that sounds terrible, but it’s how I feel.”

I note the fear that’s almost written in her eyes. The same one I resonate with.

Placing my coffee aside, I express my frustration over this, “Okay, but why do I feel the exact same way even though I’m five years away from 30? ”

“It’s because women are never happy with their age. Unless they are, which is great. I wish I felt like that,” she admits.

“It’s wild to me how accurate this is,” I say. “The irony is that if you ask a woman who just turned 18 if she wishes she was older, she can’t wait to turn 21. Then if you ask a woman who’s 29, she wishes she was still 25. You can’t win .”

“And the pressure from our families to settle down,” Sofia adds, sighing, “even though we’re still so young.”

I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “Don’t even get me started on that. I remember when I turned 20, I was told by the same people to not worry about any of it. And even earlier, that I should just focus on my education and how that stuff will come later. Which to be fair is really good advice, but why the sudden shift in opinions now that I’m a few years older?”

She leans in and says, “Welcome to the double standards of being a girl. You’re too young but then boom, you wake up, and you’re suddenly too old .”

“Seriously,” I say, frustrated. “And look, now I’m told to go find someone when I’m trying to stay focused on my career. As if it’s also that easy. For starters, with what time ?”

Sofia’s eyes turn a bit gloomy. “I don’t know how my mom did it. Especially with being the first generation in her family who worked while raising us, and to continue it all as a widow. And she’s actually content with her age. I hope I feel that way if I’m lucky enough to get to her age.”

“My mom’s the same way,” I share. “If I have a trace of her confidence one day, I’d be grateful.”

“You know, Luca said that you and I would get along. But he also said that about his ex, so I took it with a grain of salt. I have a feeling he’s right this time though.” She grins so warmly that it also makes me smile.

Why am I getting so attached to his sister this quickly? More importantly, it seems that Luca did tell his sister more about me than he’s letting on.

It’s then when I remember the painting from the gallery. “What’s your last name by the way?”

“Rivera,” Sofia says. “Why?”

That’s the same one I saw in the gallery.

I explain, “I saw a painting in the gallery with Luca’s name written in the corner, but I didn’t know what your last name was. Did he paint that?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it beautiful?” Her face beams with pride as she says this.

“It’s unreal,” I say. “I thought he does the finance.”

She doesn’t quite roll her eyes, but still manages to come off as frustrated when she replies, “Technically he does. He used to do both, but since his degree was in finance he stepped down from painting recently and just focuses on the finance part now.”

“Well, he’s talented. That’s for sure,” I admit, still shocked at how the painting is really his.

“I’ve told him plenty of times. I wish he’d get back into it.” Sofia’s face almost drops all of a sudden. “I can tell he misses it even though he doesn’t ever say it.” Her phone buzzes before her brows crinkle at her screen. “Should we maybe head back? I have a few calls I need to make before I can start working on the lovely stacks of paperwork.”

“Sure. Yeah.” I smile softly, wondering what that was all about.

I can tell that whatever it is, she realizes it’s not her place to tell me.

________ _

Sofia immediately gets on the phone when we’re back at the gallery, while I walk up to Luca. “When’s the art festival?” I ask.

His attention is still on the boxes as he replies, “In a few weeks.”

“Are you submitting anything?”

He abruptly stops what he’s doing and looks at me. “ What ?”

“I saw your name on one of the paintings,” I explain, but judging by his tone, maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing to bring up.

“I thought I removed that one,” he says, his eyes going blank.

“No. It’s still there,” I reply. “It’s incredible.”

“It’s old,” Luca says. There’s no expression written on his face and no detectable feeling in his voice. No sadness, anger, regret, joy, sarcasm. Nothing.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask tentatively.

Ignoring my question, he moves toward the front of the gallery. “Sofia must have put it back,” he almost mutters to himself. “I told her I didn’t want this to be here anymore.”

“Why?” I ask. “It’s probably the nicest painting in here. No offense to the rest of the stuff.”

He takes the painting off the display and moves past me. “I appreciate that, but I don’t feel the need to explain myself more than this. I painted this a while ago. I don’t paint anymore. It’s not a big deal. Like a hobby you just stopped. That’s it .”

“ Okay ,” I reply just as dryly.

It sure sounds like a big deal to him.

Once we’re driving back, my curiosity gets the best of me again. “If I could paint like that, I would be telling everyone about it.”

Luca sighs. “Please. I really don’t want to talk about it. ”

“Okay. We won’t talk about it,” I give up. For now. Plus it wouldn’t be smart to burn my bridges with the one sort of friend that I have here.

This is the first time since we met where I’m the silent one. Luca’s still a stranger so even with my extroverted self, I’m skeptical with the words I choose to speak next.

It’s a relief when he finally says something, though. “I’m not annoyed.”

Yeah. He’s clearly not.

“I didn’t say you were,” I reply.

He glances over at me. “Well your silence is starting to freak me out a little.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“You know what I wanted to talk about,” I remind him. “And I’m respecting your decision to not talk about it.”

“Did you enjoy the rest of the gallery?” he asks, presumably to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Yeah everything was beautiful,” I reply, when I get a notification from my phone. “Enrique just texted me,” I say, more to myself. “Okay, I didn’t ruin things then.”

“I told you he wouldn’t be bothered by what you said,” Luca offers.

“I think it just threw me off when he told me that he would see me Monday after mentioning how he only has a short shift today,” I explain.

He mumbles under his breath, “So that’s why you wanted to come today.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, but instead as if he figured out a missing puzzle piece. I also sense a trace of something that almost resembles sadness, but it’s hard to detect .

“Well. No. Not entirely. I could have stayed at the resort or explored the city on my own.” I want him to know I’m grateful for his company and for introducing me to his sister, so I add, “I’m glad I came today. I’m so happy I got to meet Sofia as well.”

“I had a feeling you two would get along,” he says, a smile forming on his lips.

Seeing him grin again makes my cheeks feel all warm. “Yeah, she told me that too.”

“Oh no.” Luca’s voice turns more sarcastic. “What else did she tell you?”

“Something about how she wasn’t sure if you would be right since she remembers you saying something similar about your ex.”

Fuck. Sofia said this lightheartedly, but after I say it out loud, a part of me questions if it’s something I shouldn’t have repeated back to him.

Seeing his face drop again confirms that I really need to think more before I talk. It’s even worse than earlier. How I manage to put my foot in my mouth a second time, in the span of less than an hour, is even beyond me.

I add, “I think it was better when I stopped talking.”

“I would have to disagree,” Luca says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“There’s never a dull moment with you,” he replies with a side smirk.

“That’s such a nice thing to say.” My smile is practically beaming at his compliment. “Thank you.”

“You’re not going to keep bringing this up now, are you?” he adds, glancing amusedly at the road.

“That depends,” I tease. “Are you still going to help me learn how to surf? ”

“So you’re planning on going again ?” he asks, raising a brow at me.

I catch myself glancing at his lips, forgetting what we’re even talking about for a second. When his face slightly tilts to the side, my eyes immediately turn the other direction, hoping he didn’t notice me look at him.

“Of course,” I finally reply with noticeably warmer cheeks. “I’m coming tomorrow morning.”

“Ticklish, clumsy, and scared of the ocean, but is willing to go again.” Luca purses his lips. “That’s a little—”

“ Badass ? I know.”

His eyes widen in exaggeration. “ Alarming , but yeah. I was going to say that next.”

I roll my eyes, also noting how it’s nice that things have returned back to normal.

_________

As soon as Luca drops me off at the resort, I immediately call Georgia. I still can’t believe it’s been almost 24 hours without telling my best friend about my first kiss, when after these many years I know it pretty much means as much to her as it does to me.

This time she thankfully answers right away. “Hey. I only have a few minutes. Sorry I missed your call yesterday.”

Barely hearing a word she says, I squeal, “I had my first kiss. Enrique kissed me.” I momentarily find myself wondering if it’s the kiss with Enrique that I’m this excited about, or just having my first kiss in general.

“Jasmine!! Wow . Okay. This is big. Forget it. I’m telling my mom this is more important.” I wait on the line until Georgia comes back. “So how was it? ”

“Well my nose almost broke his at first, but then it was pretty nice when he put his tongue in my mouth,” I summarize.

She snorts. “Okay information overload. The nose thing was honestly inevitable for you.” I roll my eyes. “And speaking of his tongue. Is that the only place he put it on?”

“Georgia!” The visual only adds to my increased heartbeat.

“What?” she says nonchalantly.

“And to answer your question, sadly yes. I literally jumped away from him as soon as I felt his hands touch my neck.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I say, frustrated. “I thought maybe he wanted to kiss my neck.”

“Are you sure? Maybe he was just going to touch it while you kissed?”

“Honestly, you’re probably right,” I admit. “I wasn’t exactly thinking though, so I just freaked out and told him I got a phone call when I didn’t.”

“Jasmine, no…,” she says, her voice dropping.

“I know.” I groan at the memory, replaying it all over in my mind again. “It gets even worse. I legit felt like I was having a panic attack after that so of course that’s when I had to run into Luca again. And I don’t know what came over me, but I told him everything about my lack of experience. Like first kiss, sex, all of it.”

“Wait,” she asks, puzzled, “why Luca?”

“I needed to talk to someone, and he was the only one there,” I explain.

“Did you tell Enrique?”

“No. I also told Luca not to tell him.”

“Why would you tell his best friend of all people?” Georgia asks, sounding more perplexed .

“What did you want me to do?” I defend. “Tell a stranger at the resort or the bartender?”

“Both would have been more normal. Yes.”

“In what way?”

I hear her sigh through the phone. “I’m not trying to be negative, but even if Luca told you he won’t tell Enrique, I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.” My nerves return, now second-guessing if Luca will in fact tell him.

“You know I’m always going to be realistic with you,” Georgia reasons. “So what did Luca say when you told him?”

My shoulders relax, remembering his reaction. “He was really cool about it actually, like intelligent and level-headed and also pretty encouraging. It made me feel a lot better about the whole situation if anything.”

“Those are pretty specific adjectives you’re bringing up about someone you don’t like,” she says knowingly.

“Georgia, I don’t like him. Sure I think he’s a little cute…or maybe a lot.” I hear her snort. “And maybe he’s nicer than I previously thought, but we’re just acquaintances at best.”

What I hoped would be a conversation mostly discussing my first kiss turns into a debate about Luca.

Why I told him, if I like him, and more about him .

Georgia isn’t here. But she knows me better than pretty much everyone. So why do I disagree with her so strongly about this?

Admitting I have a crush has never been the hard part for me.

Maybe it’s the fact that it feels scary getting to know someone who you could potentially be pretty compatible with, only to not have a single clue how they feel about you .