Chapter 7

• He picks up his coffee and takes a huge gulp before he finally responds. “Should it?’
• “Not at all. I’m just super fussy. I have impossibly high ideals when it comes to men.” I bat my eyelashes to try and be cute.
• He smirks as if pleased with my answer.
• “You didn’t answer my question, Rico,” I tease as I cut into my toast.
• “That’s because I’m choosing to avoid it.”
• I giggle. “You just answered it anyway.”
• He smiles broadly and gives me a cheeky wink.
• The energy between us suddenly becomes playful and light. He’s a player. I’m a good girl. The boundaries are set. No false pretenses.
• “So, where are you taking me on the back of your bike today, Mr. Ferrara?”
• He gives me the best come fuck me look I’ve ever seen. “Somewhere you’ve never been before.”
• The air crackles between us, and I get the feeling my good girl image just became his ultimate challenge. Nervous butterflies dance in my stomach.
• He takes a spoonful of granola. “When in Rome, Olivia.”
• “Do as the Romans do?”
• “Or.” He shrugs casually. “Just do the Romans.”
• “Oh, that’s witty.” I giggle.
• He chuckles. “You like that?”
• “You’re such a romantic.”
• “It comes naturally.” He raises his coffee cup to me, and I laugh out loud.
• “Lucky me.”
• We’ve been to the Ostia Antica ruins, The Coliseum, and around the eclectic streets of Rome. The roar of the engine echoes as Rico’s motorbike pulls to a slow stop at the parking lot of the beach. It’s around 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon and the sun is high in the sky. I cling to his broad back. My legs are tucked around him, and the day has been dreamy.
• We’ve laughed, talked, and I have to admit that Enrico Ferrara is one hell of a tour guide. Although, half of the time as he spoke about the attractions, I was just staring at his lips, imagining them on me. Imagining being the key word because, well, he hasn’t fucking touched me all day. Not once.
• He hasn’t held my hand, grazed my arm with his, or anything. I’ve clung to his back on this motorbike like the groupie that I am, sure, but other than that… nothing. There has been no kissing at all. Not even a peck.
• What the hell is going on?
• Last night we kissed all night, he was all over me. Couldn’t get enough, today…. nothing. Maybe he doesn’t like me anymore.
• Maybe I blurted out too much information about myself this morning. Damn it, why did I tell him my pathetic number of lovers? He probably thinks I’m a dud.
• And he would be right. Who has two fucking lovers? Losers, that’s who.
• I am getting sick of being the good girl all the damn time. What I wouldn’t give to be wild and free for once.
• Rico pulls the motorbike to a stop, and I slowly climb off the back and step onto the road. He turns to me and takes my helmet off. I hold my breath, and he smiles down at me. Does he know what I’m thinking?
• “The bathrooms are over there if you want to get changed.” He gestures to the restroom.
• “Okay, thanks.” I make my way to the bathroom and into the cubicle to put on my white string bikini. My hands shake nervously. I try and stretch the fabric over my behind, but this bikini feels so freaking small now that I have to go out there in it. I put my face into my hands. I’m a ball of nervous energy. He has me tied in knots.
• I take out my phone and text my best friend Natalie. She’ll probably be at work but this is the first time I’ve had a moment alone to text her about last night… and today. Holy crap, there’s a lot to tell her.
• Hi, I’m at the beach in a bikini.
• Been on the back of a god’s motorbike all day, sight-seeing.
• I’m totally loving Rome xoxoxox
• I hit send.
• “Okay, let’s do this,” I whisper out loud to myself. I exhale heavily and fake confidence before I walk out to the beach.
• Rico is waiting for me, wearing black shorts… only shorts. He’s super tall and has a broad chest with a scattering of black hair covering it. His tanned, olive skin is rippled with muscle. I count his six pack of abs. I stop still on the spot as my breath catches.
• Holy fuckballs.
• Rico’s eyes drop down my nearly naked body and he bites his bottom lip to hide his smile. “Hello,” he purrs.
• “Hi,” I breathe as the air leaves my lungs.
• “Nice swimsuit.” He raises a brow.
• I adjust the top to try and cover more of my boob. “Thanks. It felt bigger in the store.”
• He drops his head, as if stopping himself from saying something he shouldn’t. “Shall we go over here?”
• “Uh-huh.”
• He gestures for me to walk in front of him, and I die a little. Oh, God, he wants to watch my behind as I walk. It’s going to be jiggling to hell.
• “No, after you, I insist,” I say.
• He smirks, and we walk side-by-side over to the beach. “Do you want to get a deck chair?”
• “I’m happy to lie on the sand.”
• He stares at me for a beat. “On your back on the sand it is.”
• That statement sounded so sexual that it’s just ridiculous.
• We find a spot, and he lays out the two towels before he lies down on one. I sit beside him. He closes his eyes and puts his face up to the sun. “Sol has been good to us.”
• I slide down beside him. “Who?”
• “Sol, the god of the sun.”
• I smile dreamily as I close my eyes. “How do you know so much about your country’s history? You’ve rattled off everything today like a professional tour guide.”
• “It interests me.”
• “Thank you for today. It’s been amazing. I appreciate you taking the time to show me around.”