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“I’ll miss them,” she said softly, giving me a sad smile. “I know it was hard for you when Grandma died, and now you’re losing even more people you care about.”
I looked down at my feet. Dad had never liked Grandma because of her drug problems and how poor of a mother she’d been for Mom, but I’d mostly felt pity for her and enjoyed spending time with her on good days. “It’s okay. I’m going to be fine. We have the Falcones. It’s almost like having a big family.”
Mom nodded but I could see the hesitation in her eyes. “Your dad sees them as family, well sort of, but I think you and I have a more nuanced look. Or do you think of Nevio as something like your cousin or brother?”
My eyes widened in alarm. “No,” I said, disgusted by the mere idea. My feelings definitely weren’t anywhere close to being sisterly.
Mom smiled knowingly and I flushed. I rose to my feet. I didn’t want to discuss Nevio with Mom or anyone except for Carlotta for that matter.
“Crushing on guys who are unattainable is a safe and good way to discover your emotions,” Mom said.
My mouth fell open, and my face burned even hotter. “I know I’m not Nevio’s type, Mom. Thanks for rubbing it in.”
Mom took my hand. “That’s not how I meant it, Sweetheart, but you and Nevio obviously won’t happen. I think you know that, right? You’re sweet and caring and have a huge heart, but Nevio…” Mom trailed off. “Let’s just say your dad and I would be terribly concerned if there was the possibility of you and Nevio seeing each other.”
I tugged my hand from her grip. “Like you said, it’s just a silly crush. Nevio sees me as a little, stupid sister, not more, so don’t worry.”
I grabbed my bag and quickly left before Mom could say more that would upset me.
“What’s up? You look like you’re going to bawl,” Davide said the moment I arrived at the pool.
I glared at him and sank down on a vacant sunchair. Nevio floated on an airbed, sunglasses over his eyes while Alessio and Massimo played waterball.
Luckily none of them paid attention to my brother’s comment or me. The only person who seemed to notice my distress was Greta. She sat on a chair under an umbrella over to the left, and was reading a book. Or had been. Now her dark eyes were locked on mine.
She gave me a tight, little smile before she returned her gaze to the book, but it was obvious that she wasn’t actually reading.
I pushed to my feet and walked over to her. “Is it okay if I sit here?” I motioned at the vacant chair across from her.
She put down her book on the table and nodded. Her dog Momo, a white fluff ball, was curled up on her lap. Her Rottweiler Bear wasn’t around. “Where’s Bear?”
“He’s been even more protective of me lately so I’m keeping him up in my room when others are in the garden.”
“You mean when Nevio is around,” Alessio added as he walked past us.
“He doesn’t like any of you,” Greta said gently, but firmly.
“I once read that dominant dogs have trouble with other alphas. He sees them as rivaling predators in his territory,” Davide piped in.
I pursed my lips, then turned back to Greta. “Dogs are sensitive to emotions. He probably senses your distress,” I made sure to say this in a bare whisper so the nosy guys wouldn’t overhear this part of the conversation too.
Greta stroked Momo’s fur, her dark eyes flashing with wistfulness, even pain. So far I’d only dealt with unrequited love, which was already difficult, but Greta’s love to Amo had been returned and then ripped away. I imagined that was a thousand times harder, especially if you had to watch the person you loved marry someone else.
“Nevio sees this whole situation as confirmation of something he’s always believed: that love is stupidity. An emotion that weakens you, while hatred makes you stronger,” Greta whispered. The way she looked at me tightened my throat.
I shrugged as if it didn’t matter.
“So even if Nevio had feelings for you, which I don’t know because it’s not something he’d admit even to me, he’d fight them as a weakness.”
I bit my lip, my eyes slanting to Nevio, who kept throwing glances our way despite being in a match against Massimo.
Greta went to bed early, without eating pizza but the rest of us settled on the grass across from the huge trees where Massimo and Nino had attached a canvas so we could watch a movie outside. I shivered. It was chilly tonight and my still damp hair only intensified the sensation.
“Rory,” Nevio called, pulling his sweater over his head and tossing it at me.
I caught it before it could hit me in the face. I put it on without protest, trying not to smell the fabric.
“Gross,” Giulio commented. “I wouldn’t want Nevio’s sweat all over me.”
