Someone Exactly Like Me by Debbie Cromack

18

Destiny

The days pass quickly. Candi and I are meeting today to go shopping for clothes I don’t need, though I admit, it would be fun to have something new to bring with me. She meets me at my house and we head to the mall for lunch and a fun afternoon.

After lunch we wander the mall, stopping in a few shops. I pick up a cute tank top and some new flip flops.

“Do you know what you’ll be doing yet?”

“Actually, I don’t. I didn’t ask. I’m figuring we’ll go to dinner a few nights and do some sight-seeing so I’m planning to bring comfortable clothes and maybe a couple dresses.”

“You’ll probably do some swimming too so bring a suit.”

“Right. Good thinking.”

As we approach her favorite trendy boutique store, she tugs my arm and we go in. The style is a little sexier than clothes I usually wear, but sometimes they have a few things that are cute. We flip through the racks and both pick out some pieces to try on.

“Ooo, I like this,” she says, holding up a white, two-piece outfit of a long skirt and strapless, lacy, midriff top.

“Oh, Can. That’s cute. Try it on.”

“No. Not for me. You’re going to try it on.”

I laugh. “Me? And where am I going wearing something sassy like that?”

“Italy.” She pumps her shoulders up and down while wiggling her eyebrows at me with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“No.” I wave my hand at her and shake my head.

She gives me her pouty face. “Fine, okay. Then just try it on for fun.” Handing it to me, she continues flipping through clothing racks.

Once we’ve been through the store and picked out a few things to try on, we head to the fitting rooms, getting two side by side.

I mostly picked out tops since I have plenty of pants and shorts. After trying on everything I brought in, I decide to get a black, open-back, short-sleeve top. It’s not something I’d normally wear, but the front is tasteful and modest.

“Did you try on the outfit yet? I wanna see it.”

“Nope. That’s next.”

I put on the two-piece outfit. It’s certainly pretty, but with a side-slit all the way up the thigh, wearing it in public would be way out of my comfort zone.

“Do you have it on yet?”

“Yes, but I’m not coming out.”

“Then I’m coming in,” she says, pulling back my curtain and coming in, wearing a sexy red dress that plunges to her navel.

“You look amazing in that.” I scan her from head to toe.

“Thanks. I think I’m gonna get it. Here,” she says, handing me a black bikini. “This didn’t fit me, but it’ll probably fit you.”

“But I don’t need another suit.”

“I know. Just try it on. I like the style of it.” She looks me up and down then sweeps my hair up in her hand, putting it on top of my head. “Des, I love this on you. It’s classy with just a tiny hint of sexy.”

“It’s pretty, but I have nowhere to wear something like this.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing in Italy. Just bring it with you. You might find you have somewhere to wear it.” She winks and leaves. “I wanna see the suit when you have it on,” she says from outside my curtain.

I take off the white outfit and put on the bikini. It has a thong back. No way I’m wearing this and definitely not in front of Nicco.

“I’m not wearing this,” I call out.

She pokes her head inside the curtain, then comes in, holding a pink halter top.

“Oooo, it fits you so good. You boobies look amazing the way the top is cut.”

“Um, no. It’s a thong.”

“So? Turn around.”

I turn around.

“It looks cute.”

“My entire butt is hanging out.”

“You’ve always had such a nice body. I don’t know why you’re so shy about it.” She turns around, showing me the top she’s wearing. “What do you think of this? Too much?”

It’s black with two thin strings that halter at the neck. Across the bust, there are slits in the fabric, exposing at least three-quarters of her D-size breasts, barely covering her nipples.

“Nope. You can totally pull that off.”

“Okay, I’ll get it.” She tilts a shoulder up and puckers her lips, flashing her long lashes upward. Then she holds up the pink top. “What do you think about this one?”

“I like that. You don’t wear a lot of pink. I like how it’s flowy at the bottom.”

“I know, I don’t wear a lot of pink. With my hair, I always feel like it’s too much. I’m not sure.” Holding it up in front of herself in the mirror, she tilts her head from side to side. “Hmm, I’ll think about it.” She looks at me in the mirror. “I’m done.”

“Me too.”

We grab our clothes and put the unwanted pieces on the bar.

“You’re not getting it?” She grabs the white two-piece outfit off the bar.

“No. I’ll never wear it. It’d be a waste of money.”

She shoots me a scowling look of disappointment.

My phone chimes and I get it out of my purse.

Nicco:I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Let me know when you’re boarding the plane.

“Nicco?” she asks, leaning in and peeking at my screen.

“Yeah.”

“Thought so by your smile. He’s looking forward to seeing you, huh?”

I playfully glare at her, shaking my head. “You’re as bad as my mom.”

We both chuckle and head to the register to check out.

“Ready to go home?” I ask.

“Yeah. Sushi?”

“Definitely.”

About halfway to the car, she stops.

“You know what? I’m gonna run back and get the pink top.”

“Okay.”

“You wanna pull the car around?”

“Yup.”

She turns to go back to the store and I get the car, meeting her at the mall entrance. Back at my house, I do a quick load of laundry to wash my new tops and we order dinner.

While we wait for it to arrive, she helps me pack for my trip. I lay out pajamas, a few outfits of shorts and tops, a couple pair of jeans, tops to go with the jeans, a sweatshirt, my black dress for dinner, my cute floral dress with cap sleeves, and my gray and white tie die bikini. I’ll pack my toiletries in the morning in the morning as I’m getting ready.

We go back downstairs and she pulls out her laptop.

“Come here,” she says sitting on the sofa. “I want to show you something.”

I sit next to her and she pulls up pictures of Nicco and Giovanna from the photo shoot.

Though I know she doesn’t do it to be hurtful, my stomach twists. “Oh, Can, these are incredible. Your talent never ceases to amaze me.”

“Well, thanks, but what I really want to show you are these,” she says, scrolling down to the shots she took of me and Nicco.

I suck in a breath.

“Exactly.” She looks at me. Then she scrolls up and back down, and up again. “Do you see this?” she asks, pointing at a picture of Nicco and Giovanna. “Do you see the vacancy in his eyes?” She scrolls back down to shots of me and Nicco. “And this?” She points at the screen. “This right here is connection, chemistry, desire.” She looks me in the eyes. “This isn’t something you can fake, Des. A picture is worth a thousand words.”

I’m speechless. I can’t deny seeing what she’s pointing out.

“And you’d only just met. Now you know each other. I’d love to see what shots of you two say now.”

The doorbell rings. She closes her laptop.

“Be right back,” she says. “I gotta pee.”

She goes to the bathroom while I get the door and prepare our plates. Knowing I have a long day of traveling tomorrow, we go to bed pretty early.

“Get a good night’s sleep. You have your emergency medicine for the flight, right?” she asks.

“Yup, it’s in my purse already.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night.”

She turns to head to the spare bedroom which is basically hers since she’s the only one who ever sleeps in it.

“Can?”

She turns around. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. I had fun today.” I smile.

“Me too.” She smiles back at me. “Take a chance.” She winks. “Night.”

The flight went well and I didn’t need my emergency medicine, thank goodness. I text Nicco to let him know I landed. He texts me back to let me know where he’s going to pick me up. Butterflies flutter inside my stomach, the same way they did when he kissed me.

As I wait for him, I pop onto Instagram to check my messages and notifications. Something makes me go to Giovanna’s Instagram. Three images back, there’s a picture of her and Nicco. He’s sitting in a chair, gazing up at her, with his arm wrapped around her waist and she’s standing beside him, affectionately looking down at him. The butterflies are burned by stomach acid. Forget the fucking kiss.

They look cozy and intimate and his eyes don’t look vacant here. Though I feel a little queasy, seeing that picture was a good reminder that I’m here on business and that’s all. Deep breath. I go back to my account, but I can’t get that image out of my head.

It’s not long before he pulls up.

Nicco

Destiny’s here and I’m excited to see her. I’ve missed her. I’ve missed the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at me. I’ve missed her laugh. I’ve missed our easy, and sometimes intimate, conversations. I’ve missed her kind and gentle heart.

She was so great in showing me around L.A. and now I get to show her Rome and Ponza. I have some fun things planned for her time here. Experiencing it all in real life should really be helpful for writing her book, and I’m eager to spend more time with her.

I’d be lying if I said that’s all I was eager about. I haven’t had sex since I met her. After that kiss, I’m fucking craving her. I haven’t masturbated this much since I was a teenager.

I don’t know what the fuck happened to me when I kissed her, but I was hooked. Hooked on more than just the kiss and her soft, sweet lips. I was hooked on her. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Damn, I want to kiss her again. I need to kiss her again. But if I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from wanting more. I want her body wrapped around me. I want to be deep inside her. I want to make her come undone with a pleasure I know she’s never experienced. I want to be the one to do that for her.

Shit.I have to remind myself that losing control like that will only end up leaving us both hurt. Plus, she’s made it clear that she won’t have sex with me. Masturbation it is. It’s going to be a long ten days.

I pull up to where she’s waiting for me and get out. She’s so damn beautiful.

Fuck I want her.

“Ciao, mia dolce ragazza. Welcome to Italy. It’s so good to see you.”

When I hug her, she’s stiff in my arms. I draw back, kissing her on each cheek.

“Can you not call me that?”

I recoil slightly at the bitterness coating her tone. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her be terse. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, casting down her gaze, then looks back up at me. “I’m sorry. I think I’m tired. It’s been a long day of traveling.”

“Yes, I understand. Was the flight okay?” I take her luggage and put it in the trunk, then open the passenger door for her.

“Yes, it was, thank you,” she says, sounding very formal, as she gets into the car.

Something’s up and I have no idea what it is. Maybe she’s not as happy to see me as I am to see her. Maybe I misread things back in L.A. It’s probably best anyway. I have to keep my head on straight so I don’t fuck up either of us by the time she leaves.

“I thought you might be hungry after traveling all day. Would you like to go to dinner?”

“I am hungry, but would you mind if we got food and ate in? I’m kind of tired and don’t feel like going out.”

“We can do that. There’s a place near my house. We can order now and pick it up on the way back.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s Italian food.” I chuckle. “As you would expect. Do you know what you’d like without seeing a menu?”

“I’d be okay with spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Okay, I’ll order for you.”

I call and place our orders. Then she gives me the highlights of her day of traveling. I know how tiring it can be. Honestly, I’m glad she’d rather go back to my house than go out. It’ll be nice to be alone together again.

After I pick up our food, I drive us home and show her to her room.

“Is there anything you need to unpack before we eat?” I ask, setting her suitcase near the bed.

“No. I can unpack after we eat. Let’s eat it while it’s hot.” She sets her purse and small bag on the bed then looks around the room. “It’s beautiful in here. Did you decorate it?” Her side-eyed glance tells me she wouldn’t believe me even if I said yes.

I chuckle. “No. I asked Angelina to help me when you said you’d come. You’ll meet her when we go to Ponza. I think you’ll like her.”

“You, did this for me?” I love the way her voice gets higher when I’ve done or said something she’s not expecting.

“Yes.” I turn and head toward the kitchen. “Come on, let’s eat.”

I put on some music and transfer our meals onto plates while she looks around my house. I’m a pretty neat guy, but I cleaned up a lot knowing she was coming to stay with me. Her house is extremely tidy and I want her to feel comfortable.

“Is the floor okay?” I ask, setting our plates and silverware on the glass top of the coffee table then grabbing two large pillows from the sofa, putting them on the floor.

“Perfect.” She squats down then sits on her pillow, crossing her legs.

“Okay, good. Let me know if you get uncomfortable and we can sit at the table.”

“Okay, I will. Mmm.” She inhales deeply as her cheeks rise on her face with a smile. “It smells delicious.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I’m in Italy. I can’t imagine not liking spaghetti.” She raises her eyebrows, softening a little from earlier. Picking up her fork, she twirls the noodles around its prongs, looking through the glass top of the coffee table. “Is it weird seeing yourself on all these magazines?”

I chuckle. “Actually, it is. It’s hard to get used to. I feel like they’re trophies I won. I display them here to remind myself to stay humble.”

“I like that.” There’s that sparkle I’ve missed.

“I have some ideas of things we can do and places I want to take you while we’re here, before we go to Ponza.”

“Great. I’d love to hear what you have planned.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to Quartiere Coppedè. It’s a very small neighborhood with some beautiful buildings and a large fountain I think you’d like to see. Then we can go to Trastevere. There’s an outdoor food market and we can have lunch before touring the area.”

“I like the sound of things so far.” She smiles.

“When I told Mamma you were coming, she insisted you come for supper. I hope that’s okay.”

She puts down her fork and glances down into her plate, then looks at me. “Um, okay,” she says, tilting her head slightly like she’s confused.

“You don’t want to meet my mamma?”

“No.” She’s quick to answer. “It’s not that — I, just, I’d be happy to meet her.”

“Okay, good.”

“Um, when you…” She pauses, twirling spaghetti around her fork, not looking at me. “Call me mia dolce ragazza, is that like, a general term of endearment you use for women here, like say Angelina, your mamma, or maybe Giovanna?” Looking over at me, she shrugs her shoulders. Her forced attempt at seeming casual with her body language tells me there’s something more behind her question.

“No,” I say flatly. “You’re the only one I’ve ever called mia dolce ragazza.”

Her eyes scan mine. “Oh.” She blinks and continues eating.

As we eat, I tell her more of my ideas for her time here. She seems excited and I’m relieved. We finish supper and clean up in the kitchen.

“I don’t have quite the selection of snacks that you have, but here’s what I have.” I open a cabinet, showing her two different flavors of biscotti, several kinds of chocolates, and a container of Mamma’s homemade pizzicati pinch cookies. “Or.” I open the refrigerator. “Tiramisu.” I stand back and smile, watching her ogle the tiramisu.

“You’re going to make me fat while I’m here, aren’t you?” She looks up at me from under her lashes with a playful smile dancing on her lips.

I chuckle, getting the two pieces of tiramisu out of the refrigerator. “No, I promise.”

“Those pictures you sent me were beautiful. Where were you?”

“I was on the Amalfi Coast. Gigi and I had a photo shoot there.”

“Oh.” Her posture stiffens, very slightly, but I noticed. “Yes, I saw a picture of you both on her Instagram.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Her terse tone from earlier has returned.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and go to Gigi’s account, finding the picture. Huh, it makes sense now. She’s fucking jealous. Though I have zero attraction to Gigi or emotional connection and I’ve told Destiny this, I kind of like that she’s jealous. Although if she’s jealous, that means she does feel something for me. Which means I have the potential of hurting her and I really don’t want to hurt her. Fuck.

“Yeah, that’s from the shoot we were on. The surroundings were so beautiful. If I was still a gardener, I would’ve loved to work there.” I focus on the scenery and avoid talking about the ridiculous picture Gigi posted, hoping to ease Destiny.

It doesn’t.

“You know, I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll go to bed instead. I’ll have my tiramisu tomorrow. Thank you for dinner.” She walks out of the kitchen and down the hall to her room. No kiss on the cheek, no good night. She is a feisty little thing.

Destiny

After getting washed up, I lie in the bed in Nicco’s spare bedroom, staring at the ceiling, questions swirling in my head. He had his sister-in-law decorate this room for me? His mom wants to meet me and have me over for dinner? I’m the only one he calls mia dolce ragazza? I want to pretend these things don’t mean anything to me. But they do.

Then on the other side of him inching into my heart, it’s like he’s rolling over it with a dermaroller, stabbing it with tiny little pricks.

He may not think there’s anything between him and Giovanna, but body language speaks volumes and their body language says there’s chemistry between them. Hot, sexual chemistry. It may not have shown in the pictures Candi took, but there’s no denying it in the picture on Giovanna’s Instagram.

Maybe this was a bad idea. A really bad idea. If I can’t turn off my emotions, I’ll never make it through this trip. Maybe I can get a flight back tomorrow.