Page 44 of Disgrace

“Jason.” My voice breaks, he interrupts but I don’t know what I was going to say. That I’m so happy he feels that way? That I’m scared shitless he does or that I feel the same? I’m grateful for his impatience.

“You don’t need that barrier with me, angel. I see you, and I wantyou.” His lips cover mine, and he steals my breath along with my fragile heart. Long moments later, he pulls back.

“What now?” I compose myself as I internally try to process the magnitude of what he’s just declared and how that changes everything.

“I need to get some clothes so you can show me the city. I take it you have all you need?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and his grin is relaxed and so wide, his perfect white teeth just dazzle.

“I do now.” Barely a whisper but my words seem to make his smile that bit brighter.

“Why were you naked but for your heels last night? My heart actually stopped at the sight but—”

I laugh with an unladylike snort but can’t help myself. I fall back, shaking my head. His brows furrow with curiosity. He waits for my explanation for what it’s worth.

“My happy shoes.” I declare, but his expression looks none the wiser. “It sounds silly to say it out loud, shallow maybe, but they are so beautiful they always make me smile. The most expensive pair I ever bought, but they never fail to make me happy.” I add with a light shrug.

“They work.” His voice dips to a low gravelly sound that has the hairs on my neck alert and prickling. “They make meveryhappy.”

I am officially the worst guide in the history of this beautiful, ancient city. After we did a speedy shop for essentials so Jason didn’t have to spend the rest of the weekend looking like the sixth member of the Village People, I take the lead and Jason happily follows. I know where to go, but other than stating the bloody obvious…this is the Trevi Fountain or this is the Pantheon, I am shamefully ignorant of the actual history. I just fell in love with the place the first time Leon brought me here. I am happy to wander in a daze absorbing the culture if only on a visual level. But Jason doesn’t seem to be bothered. He holds my hand the entire time we walk from one tourist trap to another. Many of the streets are too narrow for cars but the plethora of mopeds keep them from being quiet or any safer than the main roads.

Midafternoon we find a small restaurant, and I am grateful to rest my aching feet, but more thankful I had some sandals in lieu of my happy heels. I would be crippled from the miles we have covered this afternoon. As it is, I just have frozen toes. In February, this part of Europe may be blessed with clear skies but this city is not far enough south to stave off the chill of winter. It is not really open toe weather.

We are seated by the window, but it is just one small room with maybe twenty-five covers in all. It is cosy, and the smells from the kitchen cause my tummy to rumble before the waiter even hands me the menu. I feel my cheeks heat because there is no way every patron in the place didn’t hear that noise.

My mouth drops open with complete surprise as Jason speaks rapidly and fluently to the waiter, who grins and a playful expression lights his face before he hurries away.

“What?” Jason’s nonchalant air is tainted by his smug grin.

“You speak Italian?” I have excelled at stating the obvious all afternoon. No need to stop now.

“Sì.”He grins.

“You speak it really well.” I frown at my own redundant remarks.

“Grazie, bella signorina.”He leans forward, closing the distance from friendly to intimate. His words sound extremely sensual as they fall from his utterly enticing, soft, full lips.

“How come?” I am still in shock. He sounded like a local.

“Every summer while at University I stayed here with friends.” He shrugs it off, like speaking one of the sexiest languages on the planet is nothing.

“All summer…What did you do?”

He has the decency to look sheepish. “I was a guide…for the English speaking tourists mainly.”

“And you let me make an embarrassing hash of showing you the city, and you didn’t think to mention this at any time.” I scrunch up my napkin and throw it playfully at his face.

“What? And miss the most enlightening tour of all?” His voice drops, and I scowl. “I’m serious; your reactions to the sights told me more than any guidebook. Your face holds all the information and so much more. There is no way I was going to interrupt.” He holds his hands up in all honesty, but I eye him suspiciously nonetheless.

“Hmm, but the waiter, what did you say to him? He smirked at me, so you must have said something.” I sit back because the heat we are generating is causing some serious discomfort between my legs. I shift, but it does little to alleviate the needy ache.

“I asked if he could bring some bread and olives or turn the music up because my beautiful girlfriend is embarrassing me.” His replies deadpan and serious.

“Oh, my god! You didn’t?” I slap my hand over my mouth and look over to where the waiter is speaking to another man. They both glance my way. Their warm smiles turn to chuckles. I want to die or maybe kill.

“Call you my beautiful girlfriend? Of course I did.” I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. The waiter returns with a basket of fresh, warm bread and some plump, green olives. I bite back my retort but can’t hide my bright, pink cheeks. “You know you look stunning with that colour on yourcheeks.” He holds my gaze, and he effectively makes my face burn a little brighter from his salacious reference. Ground, swallow me now.

I devour the bread because it melts in my mouth, and I don’t want my tummy to register any further complaints. The meal that followed was unbelievably good, simple and delicious. I have the fettuccine with a lemon and parmesan cream sauce and Jason has a pizza. When in Rome.

Every minute I spend with Jason feels right. I feel a treasured and special. The only way I can describe it that makes sense to me is that he feels like home. The irony isn’t lost on me, because I hated my home growing up, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming of the ideal of a loving home. Somewhere to feel safe, somewhere to feel loved. I don’t think I allowed myself the luxury of believing I would ever have something like this. I’m nervous about labels but being Jason’s girlfriend feels uncommonly good. Leon is the closest thing I have come to someone loving me and me actually believing them, and that hasn’t been easy.

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