Isola Bella is a pleasure garden, and it cannot be contained.

“God, I missed this place,” Conor says, hushed despite the fact that we’re alone. He had the excellent sense to carry my flip-flops and his Birkenstocks. The rocks on the soil are sharp. Without them, our feet would be torn to shreds.

“Is it possible that it’s not open to visitors?” I was under the impression that we’d be able to walk deep into the island, but I spot a door carved inside the rock, and a ticketing office sign. Pink and purple bougainvillea grow all around its door. Unfortunately, we cannot reach it. Because it’s past a closed iron gate.

Somehow, so is Tiny.

“I think the whole area might be. Most people get here via the cable car,” Conor says, pointing behind us at the gondolas parked all the way up the hill. “Today they don’t seem to be running.”

“Because of the volcano?” Mount Etna’s column of smoke and fire is clearly visible from where we stand. Occasionally, it even growls.

“That, or because it’s supposed to storm.”

“Shit.” I eye the gate. It’s shorter than me, and climbing it would be a piece of cake, if it weren’t for those sharp pikes at the top. “Do you think we can—”

Conor’s hands are already around my waist, lifting me over the iron bars. I briefly see myself impaled on one or more of the pikes, rivulets of blood mixing to little chunks of bowels as they trickle out of me. I prepare to scream, cry, perhaps throw up on Conor. Before I get a chance, though, he deposits me on the other side, and joins me with a simple, sleek jump.

I take a few deep breaths and watch him wipe his hands clean against his shorts, trying not to stare. This—being here, alone, with him. The illicitness of trespassing private property. The fact that we’re both close to naked. All of it together, it’s…a lot. “Color me impressed by your athleticism, old man.”

His look is withering. “When my geriatric joints require surgery, I’ll make sure to bill your insurance.”

“I’m still on Eli’s, who is on Harkness’s.” I realize something. “Which means that you pay for my birth control. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He grunts, noncommittal. Murmurs something about the superiority of universal healthcare.

I adjust the twisted strap of my bralette and add, “You’re welcome to start taking advantage of your money’s worth any day.”

It takes a lot longer than it should, but I can spot the exact moment my meaning sinks in. He is too…bare, to hide the way his every muscle winds tight.

“Maya.”

“Yeah?”

He shakes his head roughly. “You cannot say that to me.”

“Really?” I tilt my head. Dimple up at him. “Is there a law, or something?” I don’t wait for an answer before turning around. “Tiny! Tiny? Come here, baby!”

It’s starting to drizzle. We follow beaten tracks, climb over a couple of increasingly slick rocks, and it soon becomes apparent that Tiny is having way too much fun being chased by us. I call him, but he never listens to me. Eli may be his boss, but I’m his peer, and any demand I might make of him is little more than a polite suggestion. “Tiny, will you please come?”