One Step to You (The Rome Novels #1)(62)

Step, amused by those countless younger versions of Babi, was faster than her.

“Hey, no, I want to see.”

They play-wrestled for the album, a struggle that quickly turned into a loving hug that made them feel closer. After finally winning control of the album, he burst out laughing. Making a funny face with her eyes crossed, Babi was smiling broadly in the middle of the page. Babi had never liked that photo.

“Strange, though, of all of them, it’s the one that looks most like you,” Step said.

Pretending to be offended, she punched him in the chest. Then she put the album away, picked up her mug and the two empty beer cans, and went into the kitchen.

Alone now, Step roamed around the living room. He stopped in front of canvases by artists he’d never heard of. A silver Russian icon enjoyed pride of place on a low side table, painted with dark enamel. Near two sofas upholstered in a hand-painted fabric, there was a broad table with short legs. On top of that table were small silver boxes and ashtrays, scattered in no particular order. They would have made Step’s friends very happy.

From the kitchen came the sound of running water. Babi was washing her mug and throwing the two empty cans of beer into the pail under the sink. She buried those empty beer cans under an empty milk carton and a crumpled Scottex paper towel. There couldn’t be any traces of Step’s presence in that apartment.

When she went back to the living room, Step really had disappeared. She walked down the hallway. “Step?” No answer. She walked toward her bedroom. “Step?”

Then she saw him. He was standing next to her desk, leafing through her notebook.

“It isn’t very good manners to read other people’s things without their permission.” Babi tore the notebook out of his hands.

He let her take it. By now, he’d read all he was interested in. He had memorized it. “Why, is there anything written in there that might make me mad?”

“These are my things. It’s none of your business.”

Step laughed and walked over to Babi, gave her a kiss, and dragged her onto the bed with him. Then he started to lift her T-shirt.

“Come on, no, stop it. If my folks get here and catch us, they’ll get mad at me. But if they catch us doing this in my bedroom, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You’re right.” Step picked her up and lifted her easily into the air, accustomed as he was to lifting dumbbells much heavier than that soft, supple body. “Let’s go into this other room, which strikes me as nicer.” Without giving her time to reply, he darted into her parents’ bedroom, pulling her after him and shutting the door. Then he laid her down on the bed and, kissing her in the dim light of the bedroom, stretched out beside her.

“You’re crazy, you know that, right?” she whispered in his ear.

He didn’t answer. A small shaft of light from the setting sun filtered in through the lowered wooden shutter and illuminated his mouth. She saw those perfect white teeth smile at her and open before settling into a leisurely kiss.

Then, without really knowing how, she found herself in his arms without a top. She could feel his skin brush against hers, his hands gently take possession of her breasts. Babi’s eyes were shut, her soft lips were opening and closing at a constant rhythm. Suddenly she felt more relaxed, freer. As if she could finally breathe.

Step’s hand silently wrapped around her belt, and he eased it through her belt loops. In the darkened bedroom, Babi heard the slithering of the leather, the sound of the metal buckle abandoning its usual groove.

She was extremely aware of everything now, even as she continued to kiss him. That room seemed suspended in midair. There was only the slow clicking of a distant alarm clock, their respiration panting with love and lust.

Then a tiny tug at her waist. The belt tightened and the prong slipped out of the third hole, with its dark edges, the one that was deformed and worn, the most heavily used one. And in a flash, her Levi’s opened up. Silvery buttons that had once been imprisoned were freed at the magical touch of his thumb and forefinger. One after another, lower and lower, dangerously so.

She held her breath, and something suddenly happened in those enchanted kisses. A tiny shift, almost too small to detect. That gentle magic seemed to vanish. Even if they continued kissing, it was as if there was a silent expectation between the two of them, as if both were waiting, breathless. Step was trying to understand something, a hint, a sign of her desire. But Babi was immobile, revealing nothing. And in fact, she hadn’t yet made a decision. No one in her life had ever gotten this far. She could feel her jeans undone and his hand, right there, at the edge of her leg.

She continued kissing him without wanting to think about it, without really knowing what to do. At that very moment, Step’s hand decided to run the risk. It moved slowly, delicately, but she could feel it all the same. She half shut her eyes in something like a sigh. He brushed his hands over the edge of the now-open jeans. She felt his fingers on her flesh, above the pink hem of her panties. And at that thought, a shiver of chill and embarrassment ran down her spine.

Then she felt that elastic band pull slightly away from her flesh and, immediately after that, slip out of his grasp and snap back into place. A second attempt, more determined and resolute this time. Step’s hand under her jeans took possession of her hip and then, brazen and masterful, slipped under the elastic. Then it slid farther in, toward the center, caressing her belly, lower and lower and lower still, coming into contact with the curly edges of unexplored boundaries.