Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts 4)

She closes her eyes and throws the coin over her shoulder, listening for the sound of it hitting the water. She turns around.

“There,” she says, smiling. “Now we wait and see if it happens, I guess.”

We walk in silence back to the hotel, but it’s not awkward in the least. It’s comfortable, like we’ve known each other forever.

I pull out my phone intermittently to check for messages from Bella. Talking to Erin about her disease has really gotten to me. I feel like my life doesn’t have the right to be such a mess, and I should be doing more to fix things, especially with Bella. But each time I see my blank screen, I get annoyed. She can’t ignore me forever.

Erin glances at me, her expression concerned. “Are you okay? You seem troubled.”

I force a smile as we reach the hotel. “I just have a call to make. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?”

Surprise flashes in her eyes, but she nods. “Okay,” she says, her tone uncertain. “I’ll be in my room if you want to talk.”

I wait until she’s disappeared from sight before I try Bella again. I’m not shocked when she doesn’t answer, but I leave a message, urging her to call me back. Not that I expect her to. Maybe I am pushing her too much, but I just want her to talk to me.

I head back to my room, ignoring the urge I have to stop in and see Erin. I really enjoy talking to her and she’s a great distraction, but at the same time, things are too complicated at the moment. I appreciate her willingness to listen to my problems, but how do I confide in her when I don’t understand this myself?

Sighing, I fall on my bed, still dressed, shoes and all. I’m so exhausted. Maybe all I need is a good night’s sleep.

I only hope that I wake up in a better mood than I’m going to sleep in.

Chapter Eleven

Erin

“You’re quiet,” I comment, taking a sip of my orange juice.

We’re sitting in the hotel restaurant enjoying our included buffet breakfast. It feels wasted on us, since all I can stomach is the juice and Cade is on his third cup of coffee. His mood has been sour since he joined me half an hour ago, and I have no idea why.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep too well.” His tone is curt, like he doesn’t want to elaborate.

Another day, another mood. He’s worse than a chick. I let it go, instead reading through my guidebook as I force myself to eat a Danish. My stomach turns as nausea eats away at me, but I know I’ll feel a thousand times worse if I take my pain meds on an empty stomach.

It’s Thursday, and our last day in Rome after being here for four days, which have included a day trip to Verona—much to Cade’s disgust—so I could see where Romeo and Juliet died.

“You know it isn’t real,” he balks, rolling his eyes at my excitement.

There are stands everywhere, selling souvenirs of the tragic couple. I pick out a shirt and hand over my twenty dollars.

“Why do women love this shit?” he groans, glancing around like he’s embarrassed to be seen with me. “They’re making an absolute fortune off lonely, desperate women who cried their hearts out over some stupid movie that really wasn’t that good in the first place.”

“You’re an idiot,” I laugh. “You’re insulting not only me, but one of the greatest poets of all time?”

“Yeah?” Cade mutters, rolling his eyes as I bring up the camera on my phone. “Come back and find me when the guy saves space.”

I want to make the most of my last day here, so I drag Cade around town, crossing things off my list along the way. The Vatican, the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, and the Piazza Navona are just a few. I’ve seen so much history these past few days, I feel like I’m going to start regurgitating random facts.

“How about we see the real sights now?” Cade says as we leave the steps.

“Like?” I prompt him. I raise my eyebrows, a smile on my face. This should be good. At least he seems to be in a better mood.

“There’s a vegan cat café two streets away,” he says with a grin.

“Vegan cats? Is that even a thing?” I ask, scrunching up my nose. “And how do you even know that?”

“The cats aren’t vegan. The food they serve is,” he explains patiently, as if he’s talking to a five-year-old. “Apparently it’s pretty popular.”

“Um, I think I’ll pass. Allergies,” I hastily explain. Total lie. I just hate cats. “Any other fun suggestions?” I’m almost afraid to ask.