Page 51 of Two Chances With You

“Namely?”

“You have to give me a kiss.”

I lean forward and pucker up my lips and shut my eyes. Actually, I keep the right eye just slightly open. I wouldn’t want her to take off the way she usually does.

Gin leans in and gives me a disgusting slurp, from down to up, across my lips, as if she were doing an emergency intervention with a half-melted ice cream cone.

“Hey, what was that supposed to be?”

“That’s how I kiss! I’m quite an innovative young woman myself.” And she hops aboard right behind me. “Come on. With the fare I just paid, at a minimum, you ought to take me to Ostia.”

I break into a laugh, and I take off in first gear, lurching into a wheelie, front tire spinning in the air, but Gin is quick as a whip. She wraps both arms tight around my waist and presses her head into my shoulder. “Go, go, go, Step. I love racing on a motorcycle.”

I don’t have to hear that twice. I tear out of there like a bat out of hell, and Gin squeezes her legs, clamping them tight around me. We feel like one single body on that motorcycle. Right, left, easy leans into each curve, accelerating as we go.

We turn in front of Da Vanni and then continue straight toward the Lungotevere, the Tiber-riverfront boulevard, with a curve to the right at the end. I slow down for a moment at the red light, which almost magically turns green, as if it had noticed us. I roar fast past two stopped cars. To the right, leaning into the curve, to the left, again leaning into the curve, and then here we are next to the Tiber, and off we go, hurtling forward with the wind in our faces.

In the rearview mirror, I glimpse a part of Gin’s face. Her eyes, half-shut, her hairline, a faint edge of her white skin. Long dark hair tosses and flails, caressing the sun far behind us as it sets, tinged red, rebelliously battling the wind, but when I accelerate, that hair surrenders and lets itself be caught up in the sheer velocity. Her eyes are still shut.

“Here we are, signorina. We have arrived.” I pull up in front of her house, put down the kickstand, and remain seated.

“Holy moshy, that took no time at all.”

I look at her in amusement. “Holy moshy? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a cross between holy moly and gosh.”

I’ve never heard it before. “Holy moshy. I’ll have to start using it myself.”

“No you won’t. It’s mine. I have all rights reserved for Italy.”

“No kidding?”

“Certainly. Well, thanks for the ride, I’ll have to use your service some other time. I have to say that, as a taxi driver, you’re more than acceptable.”

“Well then, you ought to invite me upstairs.”

“Why would I do that?”

“That way I can give you a loyalty card, and you get a discount on each individual ride.”

“Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to pay.”

This time, Gin thinks she’s faster than me and quickly slams the glass street door, convinced she’s tricked me.

“Ha ha, no way! I trickedyou!” I reach into my jeans pocket and pull out her house keys, dangling them right in front of her eyes. “You taught me this trick, didn’t you?”

“Okay, give me those keys!”

I look at her, laughing. “I just don’t know. I think I might just go take a ride and come back later, maybe a special night fare.”

“It wouldn’t be worth it. In half an hour’s time, I could get all the locks changed.”

“But it would cost you more than ten real taxi rides.”

“Okay, you want to negotiate?”

“Why of course.”

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