Chapter 13
Gavin
Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It’s full of rich history, a labyrinth of antiquity and ruins, and full of stories that come alive in the midst of modernization.
If it wasn’t for my basketball career, I can’t imagine ever having the opportunity to be here. I count myself lucky, for both my job and having met Kady.
We grabbed a taxi from the train station after disembarking and were dropped off near Via Condotti and the Spanish Steps. As we take in the sites and the luxury shops that only the wealthy can afford, I take Kady’s hand in mine, leading her through the cobblestone streets. She smiles easily and chats excitedly about all the cool stores and the famous brands that I know nothing about.
We’ve been walking around for over three hours now and my stomach tells me it’s getting time for a mid-afternoon snack break. That’s the beauty of Roman streets. You can always find a café, a trattoria or osterie on every street corner.
We’re in the courtyard near the Spanish Steps when we stop in a little outdoor café where people sip their afternoon refreshments and aperitives.
“Oh my God, I’m in love with the Aperol spritzes. They are so delicious,” Kady rejoices as we walk up to the small counter bar to order. “The bubbly sweetness of the Prosecco makes the bitter flavor of the Aperol actually digestible.”
I order her the orange cocktail, the Italian’s national drink, and an espresso for me. My eyes feel heavy from the lack of sleep last night, the long train ride, the bounty of sex and the miles of walking we’ve done today.
Looking around for a place to sit, I point to a small table out on the front walkway. “Want to go get a table and I’ll wait for our drinks?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Kady arches on her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on my cheek before turning to walk away. But I have other plans. Reaching for her wrist, I snatch her back into me, capturing her face between my palms.
The kiss isn’t very long, but it’s packed with a passionate punch. Her mouth opens for me my tongue greedily roams every corner. It turns hot and frantic instantly and my dick quickly realizes its mistake in this very public spot. Reluctantly, I pry her away with my hands on her shoulders, steadying her wobbly stance.
She looks a little dazed and that makes me happy. “Damn, boy. What was that for?”
I pull her in once more and kiss the top of her head. “I like kissing you. And I like having my hands and mouth all over you as much as possible. Reminds me what comes later.”
She giggles naughtily, glancing around before speaking in a hushed whisper. “Hopefully, I’ll be coming later.”
Kady wiggles her eyebrows and I release her from my hold, but not before I swat her ass as she turns to claim our spot out front. Her head whips back around with a hand covering her mouth and a playfully-offended expression.
I watch her busy herself at the table, my eyes never leaving her, as she wipes it off with a napkin before sitting down. She shields her eyes from the bright afternoon sun with a pair of black round sunglasses. Her hair shines in the bright light, touches of gold sparkling against the shock of blue that traces through the side braid she wears. She looks stunning.
Her fashion statement is bold, brassy and confident, although there are moments when I sense a hesitancy within her. As if she’s putting on a tough exterior outwardly to the world to hide something else simmering below the surface.
I guess I understand that. I’ve done it all my life. Tried to hide my disability, overcompensating in other ways so that the attention was drawn away from the truth. The only ones to know that I had a learning disability were my teachers, my guidance counselor, my mother and brother.
Otherwise, my secret was kept locked away and I found ways to skirt around it, using humor to throw off unsuspecting people. In school, kids laughed at me when I read aloud, but I found a way to clown around so their laughter shifted to my behavior rather than my inability to read.
I pat the front pocket of my shorts, Kady’s discarded panties distracting me from my other thoughts. I grin at the memory of the train ride and I picture the image of us together in the mirror. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize someone has stepped beside me at the bar.
The sound of the velvety smooth voice jars me back to the present when I recognize it.Violetta. The Rome-based model I had a thing with about three months ago. It was the first game we played in Rome and the team stayed around the corner at a hotel she was shooting at. We’d met in the bar and I had no idea who she was or the reputation that preceded her.
Violetta is well-known amongst the players in the league. She seeks out fresh, young men, eager to get it on with a beautiful Italian model. I’ll admit, I fell for it. She had me hook-line and sinker during that long, hot weekend together.
She was my first model, so I was eager to brag about my conquest to the other players, and was happy when she kept in contact with me after I left. But then she became clingy and texted me constantly. Sending me nude photos. And then going bat-shit crazy jealous when I didn’t respond or thought I was fucking other women.
Truth was, I was young and didn’t handle it all that well. By then I’d heard some rumors about her from the other guys, and I stopped responding to her altogether, hoping she’d get the hint. She finally did. But it was only because she found another unsuspecting athlete to focus her attentions on.
The weight of her hand on my chest feels more like a heavy anchor rather than a welcoming greeting. I’m sure she wants to remind me about what she can offer, but little does she know, I’m not open to accepting new offers.
My eyes automatically locate Kady, who’s talking animatedly with an older gentleman at the table next to her. Her hands fly in non-verbal communication.
Violetta’s hand strokes my pecs and I shudder. I grab her wrist and forcefully remove it from my body.
She literally purrs. “Buon giorno, Gavin. It is good to see you again, handsome. You are looking, and feeling, exceptionally well.”
