It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Fourteen

"Nico," I breathe, honestly shocked by the amount of effort he had put in. I was expecting something small, low-key but this was just as meaningful - if not more. "You shouldn't have."

Nico shakes his head, pleased with himself at my awe. "This is only your first. There are many more to come... hopefully you will learn to love surprises, rosa."

My only focus is on the word rosa. "Rosa?" I ask and Nico gestures for me to sit. I sit down on the corner of the blanket, Nico on the other.

"It means rose... friends say that all the time," he jokes, and I roll my eyes in jest. My thoughts flood back to his tattoo of the wilted rose on his stomach, then my mind moves even deeper into the gutter when thoughts of his body are front and centre in my mind. "I hired the place from my father, he was more than happy to comply," Nico changes the subject. I had wondered why one of the most popular tourist attractions was so empty.

Smiling, I look at the array of food placed across the tartan blanket. There are berries, fruit platters, cheese boards, wine paired with two glasses, cheese and chive sandwiches and a whole selection of viennoiseries... simply divine.

"This looks great... did you make this all yourself?" I ask. It would make sense as he works at the restaurant and his father being a chef and all, but I couldn't imagine the time it would have taken.

Nico's eyes mull over the food, taking in every piece of goodness. "It wasn't made from scratch, but I did piece a few things together. My mother made the fruit platters and cheese boards, she has an eye for it that I simply don't. She was telling me that I was throwing it on haphazardly, but it looked fine to me," he shrugs, and I laugh.

I create an image in my head of Nico being told off by his mother due to his placement of cheese and grapes and I cannot hold my laugh back. My cheeks soon begin to hurt from smiling so much.

"My mother would be the exact same. She tells me to do things but then follows behind me re-doing it completely," I laugh, and Nico gives me a look that says he knows all too well. "She's a perfectionist, she likes to say."

We both dig in, the food tasting beyond decadent. Like summer and warm hugs. Everything good in the world. Nico throws a grape, gesturing for me to catch it but it just about skims my mouth, bouncing off and onto the blanket. We both groan in disappointment before laughing. Grabbing a grape of my own, I throw it his way but of course, Nico being Nico, he catches it perfectly in his mouth.

"So sweet," he says, and I cross my legs, begging for my mind to not go back to last night. To Nico with his head between my legs... no. Strictly platonic.

"So, the festival... tomorrow. Are you excited?" I change the subject. Nico notices and doesn't try to hide his smirk. Sometimes he is beyond infuriating.

"Yes, it is tradition after all. I think you'll love it..." he trails off and I furrow my brows when I realise he's not looking at me but lower.

"What-" I stop talking when I realise that the neckline of my dress had ridden down, a small bruise visible on the top of my breast. In an instant, I pull up the pale-pink material, covering the small purple tinge to my skin. "My eyes are up here."

"Glad to see I've made my mark. Sei mio," Nico's voice deepens, his eyes still skimming over me, every part of my body that he's touched. I should regret the other night but the biggest dilemma I have is that I don't. But I should... it was a mistake; it shouldn't have happened.

"What mark?" I challenge and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as his eyes darken, those blue eyes mimicking the dark sea instead of the turquoise waters I'm used to.

"I don't play games, amore mio," Nico moves closer and I remain neutral. When he's beside me, I continue to look at the sky as an orange tinge settles in the midst of it.

I turn my head to face him, my eyes instantly finding his. His height is still evident as he towers over me, his hand gliding up my thigh.

"No games are being played here," I say, my breathing increasing. When Nico's hand glides higher, my brain screams at me to stop, to stop leading him on when you're not ready.

Nico's hand reaches my breast, his hand soft as he circles the bruise. Finding that my dress is not on my side tonight, I leave the loose garment where it is. "This mark... the mark I made."

"Are you sure that was you?" I goad him on, and he laughs, a deep, sultry laugh.

Nico grabs the back of my leg, pulling it over his lap until I'm straddling him. A small squeal breaks out of me at the suddenness. Our faces are mere inches away, our breath mingling.

"Only me," he says, his hands moving to my hips.

"Strictly platonic," I say and Nico laughs. "It's not a joke... we shouldn't be doing this."

Nico pecks my nose, my eyes closing in delight. "I'll wait for you... until you're ready," he says, and I shake my head. "Strictly platonic."

My heart and mind are at a war and I'm not sure which to side with.

I'm still sat on Nico's lap as he brings a cake to my lips, the frosting piled high. "Taste it," he says, and I take a bite, the frosting smearing across my lips. I can't help the small moan that leaves my mouth at the sweetness that floods my senses.

"So sweet," I mimic him and his grip on my hips tightens. The setting sun casts a golden glow against Nico's already tanned skin, his eyes becoming more beautiful each time I see them.

I get the chance to truly look at him. His dark brows that always seem to be furrowed, his ocean eyes that never fail to enrapture me, his lips that have touched the most intimate parts of my body.

His own eyes search my face, taking in each feature until both of us have every inch of skin stored away in our memories - never to be forgotten.

"This was really nice of you... I don't think anyone has ever made this much effort for me." I thank him endlessly and he smiles, his hands circling my hips absentmindedly. It's when Nico reaches lower that I stop him. Placing my hands over his, I give him a warning.

"As I said this is only the beginning. I plan to put your three weeks to good use - in many more ways than one..." he trails off and I slap his chest in jest. "There's so much of the island for you to see."

Eventually, I move off of his lap - the space between us both refreshing but also empty and cold. We spent the rest of the evening sporadically eating small bites of food and looking up at the setting sky. The colours burned into my memory as one of the brightest moments of my life despite the darkness that soon surrounded us.

Nico also explained the history of Doria Castle. "The tower itself was built during the 11th century by the Obertenghi, a Frankish noble family that ruled at the time. It is the oldest part of the castle. It was then used as a lookout fortress to protect the village from pirates."

When it was getting late, we decided it was probably best to call it a night. I volunteered many times to help Nico clear up, but he professed that he would do it later. Instead, he walked me home, all the way to the front door.

"Again, thank you for tonight," I say as we reach the door.

"I'm just glad you enjoyed it. I won't lie to you when I say that I was nervous as to how you would react," he rubs the back of his neck. I cannot deny that the sight of Nico not being the epitome of confident, that he always comes across as, is beyond adorable.

"I loved it," I say softly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Heidi," he says before slowing walking away.

"Bye, Nico."