It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Eleven

Nico finishes with his shift, untying the apron from around his waist and putting it behind the counter. The restaurant is still thriving with life as we walk towards the exit.

"Is everything okay?" I ask when Nico lets the silence stretch between us. He's acting weird, different to his usual charming self. His hand moves to rest on the small of my back as we squeeze between two tables before finally reaching the outskirts of the restaurant.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Nico shrugs as we turn right and head down to the beach. A large golden light can be seen in the distance, and I presume it to be the bonfire.

"You're acting weird," I state upfront, and I hear him let out a small laugh.

"I just want you to be careful... Jacques is not the kind of guy you want to be surrounding yourself with," he explains, and I nod my head in understanding. I'm guessing that Jacques is the guy I spoke to earlier.

A soft breeze washes over us, and I let his words sink in.

"Why? What has he done?" I ask, hesitantly. It makes me wonder if he has some kind of past with Jacques, so I tread lightly.

"Let's just say he's been a real stronzo," Nico says and I stifle a laugh. My Italian may be limited but if there is one thing I do know, it is asshole. That then reminds me of our bargain.

"You're still yet to hold up your end of the bargain," I say as we near the beach and Nico sends a confused expression my way before his brows soften and he realises.

"Our bargain. You'd go to the best gelateria in Vernazza so long as I taught you the basics in Italian," Nico smiles, his hand moving to my hip, and I try to keep my focus on the conversation. "Your first phrase is pezzo di merda."

"And what does that mean?" I ask and, annoyingly, he smirks.

"It means piece of shit. So, you could say that Jacques is a pezzo di merda," Nico explains and I roll my eyes before swatting his side.

"Not very helpful," I say, and his hand squeezes my hip as we near the crowd gathered around the bonfire. It's much larger than I had anticipated. Heaps of logs are aglow - standing, leaning into a point. We're only slightly close to it and you can already feel the large swarms of heat projecting from the lit wood.

"Oh, but it's very helpful," Nico leans down to whisper in my ear and I feel much warmer all of a sudden. As if I have been set on fire instead.

It's when the familiar face begins inching closer to us, cup in hand that I figure it may come in handy after all.

"Hey, you made it," Jacques says, not even acknowledging Nico. "I didn't catch your name earlier. I'm Jacques," he introduces himself, holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Tieni il cazzo nei pantaloni," Nico cuts in and Jacques turns to face him.

"Ah, I didn't see you there, Nico. Sorry, but I was in the middle of a conversation before you rudely interrupted. Does he always do this? Says mindless things in Italian and leaves you out of the conversation?" Jacques turns to me, and I furrow my brows.

"The setup looks good, I was expecting something more low-key, but it looks great," I change the subject of the conversation just as Nico moves closer to me.

"Yeah, it's getting there... come grab a drink," Jacques says.

"I'm okay for the moment, maybe later," I suggest, and he nods before walking back to the bonfire and grabbing a girl by her waist. She grimaces before pushing him off her, Jacques only laughs before taking another swig of his drink. "Stronzo."