Uncomfortable

[eight]

Alden throws my curtains open and blinds me, even with my eyes still closed.

"No," I groan, throwing my comforter over my head. "We just went to sleep an hour ago."

"Six hours ago. That's more than enough sleep."

I burrow deeper into my white down comforter, and my voice comes out muffled. "You're the one who insisted we stop at the bar to watch the soccer game on the way back yesterday."

"You're the one who insisted we stay when it was over. It's football, and I am awake." A pillow smacks me in the back. "Up!"

My memories from last night blaze bright back through my brain. I couldn't help being enamored the entire time watching Alden watch the game. He'd jump and cheer with the group of guys sitting next to us. He'd smile at me over his beer glass. What? he asked when he caught me staring. Am I more fun to watch than the game? I drank a little too much, but I didn't want the night to end. He was absolutely the most fun thing to watch in the bar. He seems to fit in so seamlessly in Europe. I don't care about soccer—sorry, football; or is it futball?

"I change my mind. I don't want to hike."

"You can't come to Cinque Terra and not hike. It's part of it. I hope you have clothes on."

I curl up tighter into a ball. "You'll never know," I mumble.

He pulls off my comforter in a swift motion. The cold air slaps me awake.

I sit up—clothed, of course. "What if I didn't?"

"Hm," he hums and laughs. "I was willing to risk it. Ninety-nine percent of the time you'd say you didn't if you actually didn't."

I narrow my eyes at him because I'm annoyed he's right. I have an oversized T-shirt and stained sweatpants on. The least sexy thing ever.

I tip my chin up in defiance. "You don't know me that well. I sleep naked all the time."

I do it every once in a while—when I haven't done laundry in weeks and I've run out of clean underwear. But Alden doesn't need to know that part.

His eyes shine a little as he assesses my pajamas and chuckles, but I also see something a little sinister when his eyes graze my body; like what he's thinking is something he shouldn't be.

His black polyester T-shirt is clinging to him in all the right places, and when he turns to leave my room, his gray athletic shorts fall perfectly over his muscular butt.

Each cheek slightly tenses as he walks, and it's a good thing he can't see my face right now because I'm drooling. I remind myself that I need to hike in front of him because I cannot stare at that for hours.

I quickly get myself ready in the bathroom before I dress in my heather red yoga shorts and white tank top.

Today is a perfect day to hike honestly. It's not too hot, but there are no clouds in the sky. We meander through Monterosso until we hit the beach where the official trail starts along the coastline.

Alden tightens his small backpack against him and offers me water from his navy Hydro Flask. "We can stop in Vernazza to eat and shop if you want, then keep going or take the train back. Depends how far you want to go."

I smile. "However far you want to go. I'm just along for the ride."

The beginning of the hike takes us along the mountain, uphill on stone steps, winding back and forth, until we're walking on a dirt path through amazing hillside vineyards and lush green foliage that would open occasionally with an ocean view.