All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)(47)
“I see.” Luca kissed my forehead as I put my head on his chest. I had so many more questions, including how I fit into all of that. Even if he was avoiding his family, why wouldn’t he come get me himself? It wasn’t as though his brother would be staking out the St. Regis. But I made a conscious decision to let it drop. Luca didn’t want to talk about it, and I needed to respect that.
He stroked my hair as he asked me, “When your family vacation ends, do you have to hurry back to the states for school?”
“No. I’ll still have some time before classes begin.”
“Would you consider going away with me for a couple weeks after your grandmother and Jessie fly back home?”
I tilted my head to look up at him. “Where would we go?”
“Someplace quiet and romantic, where we can spend days naked in each other’s arms.”
That sounded like heaven. I told him, “I have five more days here, then ten in Venice. Where would you want to meet after that?”
“Where are you staying in Venice?” I told him the name of the hotel, and he said, “I don’t know where we’ll go yet, but I’ll get it all planned out. Then I’ll send you a message at the hotel. Are you okay with it being a surprise?”
“Sure. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, either. I just want to be with you, that’s all that matters.”
“There you go, being so sweet again. I have to start calling you mio dolce caro.”
I grinned at that, and translated, “My sweet darling, that’s nice. I once again appreciate your willingness to dive head-first into the industrial-grade terms of endearment.”
Luca grinned, too. “Only for you, mio tesoro. You inspire me to strive for new heights of sappiness.”
“Good. I like it.” I stretched up and kissed him, and he returned the kiss tenderly.
We stayed like that for a long time, curled up on the couch, holding and kissing each other. Ignacio came in maybe an hour later with the Chihuahua tucked under his arm, and blurted, “Shit, sorry, I thought you’d be done by now. I didn’t mean to barge in.”
When our host put the dog down, he skittered across the wood floor at top speed with a clatter of toenails and leapt onto Luca. “Hey there, buddy,” Luca said, and kissed the dog on the top of his head. “You’re looking sharp in your little sweater, as usual.” I thought all of that was cute beyond words.
“I should clear out again,” Ignacio said, “and give you two more privacy.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I told him. “This is your home, we don’t want to drive you away.”
After some cajoling, we convinced him to stay, and the three of us ended up having dinner together. The church’s old kitchen wasn’t really functional, so Ignacio went out and soon returned with pizza and wine. Pizza in Rome was very thin, slightly charred, and all-out delicious. We ate on a blanket on the floor and drank the wine out of paper cups, and Ignacio and Luca tried to outdo each other with hilarious stories about difficult artists they’d known. I could see right away why they’d become such fast friends. Their sense of humor was very similar, and of course they shared a passion for art.
Late that evening, Luca walked me to the car and held me for a long time. “These next couple weeks are going to feel like an eternity,” he said. “I can’t wait until we’re together again.”
“Me, too.” He kissed me tenderly as Ignacio came out of the church with the dog under his arm and got in the car to drive me back to the hotel. “Goodbye, Luca,” I said, running my fingertips along his short beard.
“Please take care of yourself for me,” he said, and caught and kissed my hand before stepping back.
As we drove away, I turned to look back at him. He was standing in the street, watching me go. I raised a hand and he did, too, and I kept staring at him until he disappeared from sight. I felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind.
*****
When I got back to the hotel, I found Nana, Jessie and Ollie deep in conversation, clustered around a tourist map of Rome that was spread out on the coffee table. I put Diego Rivera down, and the dog shook himself before trotting over to his owner. Nana looked up at me and said, “Hi Sweetpea. Clear your schedule for Saturday.”
“I don’t actually have anything planned, so that won’t be a problem. What are we going to do?”
Nana’s dark eyes sparkled as she told me, “We’re going to storm the Vatican.”
Chapter Nine
She’d been exaggerating, but only slightly. It wasn’t technically possible to storm the Vatican. Many layers of protection were in place to keep armies, invaders, dissidents, and my eighty-year-old grandmother from doing just that.
What she could do, though, was create such a spectacle that local reporters would show up to cover it, under the theory that the Pope might end up seeing the news footage. Nana invited Rafi and his dance troupe to join the demonstration. When they readily agreed, she sent them plane tickets and put them up in a hotel. Next, she went to several gay nightclubs and an LBGT community center, talked to a lot of people, and told them to bring their friends and families.
I wasn’t entirely sure what she had planned, but Jessie and I showed up in the rainbow tie-died t-shirts Nana had given us at the appointed time on Saturday. We carried two tote bags filled with little rainbow flags. A couple guys we’d met at one of the clubs joined us, also dressed in rainbow colors. We chatted with them as a few more people filtered in.