“Kiss me,” I told him, never breaking eye contact.
“No,” he said, his own warm, sweet breath wafting over my cheeks. His right hand moved achingly slowly from the small of my back and wrapped gingerly around my neck, resting his thumb at my rapidly beating pulse.
“Why?” I begged.
“Say it,” he ordered, his eyes roaming mine.
I blinked long and slow, swallowing my fear. He knew. “You say it.”
“Okay,” he breathed but he was silent for what seemed like minutes.
“Please, I’m in misery, Tom.”
“I’m trying.”
“It’s not hard.”
He swallowed and the movement sent my eyes lazily down his neck and back up. “You’ll reject me,” he said when my eyes met his again.
“And so what if I do? Should it matter?”
He sank a little into himself then but I pulled him back against me.
“It shouldn’t matter but it does,” he told me.
“Don’t.”
“I can’t-I can’t be hurt again, January,” he rushed out quietly in one breath. “There’d be no recovering, I told you that.”
My heart pounded in my chest at the intended proclamation. “Say it,” I ordered.
“I’m in love with you.”
He said it simply, no hesitation between my last asking him and that moment. Just five words between the old us and the new us.
He didn’t wait for me to say it back. He rushed and kissed me so hard and yet not hard enough so I met him with equal fierceness. It was double the impact and exponentially delirious. So many wondrous sensations were assaulting me. His tongue sent tingles down my chin as it slid into mine. His goatee scratched softly against my cheeks, his hands held my jaw and threaded through my hair. I couldn’t get close enough. I wanted so badly to climb into his lap. The very vague awareness I was in public held me back but barely. He pressed into me and we smashed against the window on our row. He was so warm and perfect, my hands went to his exposed t-shirt and my fingers laced within the fabric. I wanted to drag him over me but the tiny, almost infinitesimal rational side of my brain reminded me where I was.
A little kid giggling at us broke the spell. Tom’s lips stilled on mine but their quivering told me they’d rather do anything but. My hands went softly to his face before fastening in his hair, running the length through my fingers until they met his neck.
I kissed him softly on the mouth and breathed my own revelation. “I’m in love with you, Tom.”
He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath before they shot open and held me in my place. “Rome.”
“What about Rome?”
“Just, promise me that while in Rome, you’ll still feel the same way.”
I sat up and rested my hand over his heart. “I promise.” You don’t get over the love of your life, Tom. You said it yourself.
He smiled the most heart-shattering smile.
He kissed my neck and I could feel him smile against my skin. “January MacLochlainn, how in the world did I get so lucky?”
I hugged him tightly. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about finding you.”
I’ve never seen a more beautiful city than Rome, Italy. It was definitely a city of God. The architecture, the sheer number of churches, a city of art. That’s what it was, a city full of art. Not one inch within its walls was untouched by a magnificent artist it seemed.
“It’s incredible,” Tom said, grabbing my hand after we completed a traditional coin toss into the Trevi Fountain, superstitiously ensuring a return trip to Rome. We saved the fountain for last since our hotel was right down the street.
We’d already visited Vatican City, numerous churches and many monuments. We weren’t set to see The Great Remember until the following night. We thought about partying it up a little but, to be honest, we were worn out from the traveling and always being "on." We agreed to sleep in a little the next day as we rarely got to but not too late as we wanted to sightsee a little more.
“I want to take you on a proper date.”
“Really?”
“Yes. American style. Dinner. Movie. Make out session.”
“I’m down, Bobby Brown. What shall we eat?”
“Italian?”
“Very funny. And the film?”
“See, this is good. I think it’s against an in-love law or something that we don't know what movies each other digs.”
“All right, hold on?”
He nodded.
I found a man walking by and approached him. “Mi scusi, dove trovo un cinema?”
“A due isolati sulla destra”
“Grazie,” I told the man.
He nodded and walked away with a polite, “Prego.”
An inadvertent yelp came from me as I was swept off my feet and spun around. “You make me hot when you do that,” Tom spoke into my ear.
I kissed him softly as he set me on my feet again. “Sei il grande amore della mia vita,” I whispered into his lips.
He kissed me deeper. “And what does that mean?”
“Nothing. Come on, it’s two blocks down.”
As we walked to the theater, I started singing a Georgia Asher song we heard days before but stuck with us and to my utter surprise, Tom joined in harmony and we sounded unbelievably good together. His voice was rich and deep and perfect for harmony, which made sense to me knowing he played bass for The Ivories. When we were done, I looked over at him in awe.
“God you’re talented, Tom.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you really are.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m serious, Tom. You are talented as shit.”
“This coming from one of the best pianists I’ve ever seen live.” He paused. “Actually, that does kinda make me feel like a hoss, coming from you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, blushing from his compliment.
The theater looked more like a ballroom than a movie cinema but that was Rome for you. I translated all the titles for him. It seemed they played oldies but goodies, and we had a choice between Alien, Back to the Future, Indiana Jones: The Temple of Doom, and three Italian flicks. Seeming as I would be the only one who could understand the Italian films, we opted for the American/Italian subtitled.
“So which one?” I asked.
“Of those three, I know exactly which one I’d pick, hands down, but I want to know if you’d pick the same one.”
“I’d pick-,” I began but he cut me off with a warm finger to my lips.
“No, let’s play a game.”
“Oooh, a game. I rock at games. I dominate at games. I am a game master.”
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, proceed.”
“Here’s my card.”
“Okay,” I said, taking the little plastic Visa.
“I’ll stand here while you buy your ticket. You go on inside, then it’ll be my turn.”
“And?”
“Hopefully we pick the same film.”
“This game sucks,” I told him.
“Just play along, January.”
“Fine,” I said, convinced he was going to choose Alien or Indiana Jones.
I debated whether I should just choose whatever film I thought he would want but that was defeating the spirit of the "game."
“Un biglietto per Ritorno al Futuro, per favore?”
The attendant took the card, ran it and I pocketed my ticket.
“Your card, sir.”
He took the card and palmed it in his hand.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see you inside, then?” I asked, feeling unsure for some reason.
“In just a few. Need anything?”
“No, I can wait until later.”
“All right,” he said, leaning in and kissing my cheek.
Thomas
As soon as January went inside, I went to the attendant’s window and purchased a ticket to Back to the Future hoping she chose the same one. I slid my card and the ticket inside my wallet. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Following us?” I asked Jonah casually as I turned to my left.
He hefted himself off the wall a few yards from the ticket booth, unfolding his arms and taking his sweet ass time to reach me.
“No. Just a coincidence.”
“Right. A coincidence. You know what else might be coincidental?”
“What’s that?” he asked, a dumb smile on his face.
“My fist connecting with your weak ass jaw.”
“Tsk, tsk, Eriksson. Threats? Really? Don’t make me report you to corporate.”
“You’re such a pussy when you say things like that. You know that?”
His only reply was a snort.
“Gonna run off and tell on me, Jonah? Can’t fight like a man?”
“I’m a lover not a fighter, Tom. You know that,” he said, a sarcastic tap on my jaw with his palm.
I gritted my jaw and pulled away from his reach. “Only cowards say shit like that.”
“You always resort to violence, Tom. It’s going to bite you in the ass one day, I think.”
“I’m just not afraid to fight for what I believe in, but you obviously don’t believe in shit seeming as how you’re such a spineless, dishonest asshole. Not that you’d believe me, but I’ve never hit anyone in my life, yet I’m not afraid to start with you, dick. Get the fuck away from me before I’m good on my word.”
I started to walk away but he grabbed the back of my t-shirt.
“Let go, Jonah,” I told the air in front of me, refusing to face him. “I promise you, you won’t win.”
“Don’t you want to know how I found you?” he asked, releasing his grip.
I hated that I did. I sincerely needed to know how the hell he was finding us since we told no one we were even going to Italy.
“How?” I asked, still refusing to turn.
“Why don’t you ask January that question,” he said, chuckling. My blood boiled to an intense heat, but when I turned to confront him he’d vanished around the corner like a slithering snake.
“What a crock of shit,” I mumbled to myself. “She’d never betray me.”
But he’d planted a seed in that moment and as much as I hated it, it made me think.
How did he find us? If January and I were the only ones to know where we were going and I didn’t tell him, that left only one other person who could inform him. Surely not, I thought, shaking my head. He’s just trying to get inside your head.
I entered the theater trembling from the need to hit something. I booked it to the attendant tearing tickets and handed over mine. He pointed to a theater to my right and said something in Italian I didn’t understand. I just nodded and told him the only Italian word I knew. I hoped to God it was thank you but I couldn’t be sure.
The theater wasn’t yet dark and there was no one else inside but January. “Good, the previews haven’t started,” I told her, pasting the best smile I could attempt.
“Over here!” January shouted. She’d stood and started waving her arms. “I’m over here, Tom! Can you see me?” She joked. I looked on her. There’s no way she’d do that to you.
