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“Bunch of times, yeah,” I told him. Then, adding a shrug: “Old boyfriends.”
“Good,” smiled Roman. “Then you know to hang on tight and lean into the turns.”
Another trio of customers entered the shop from the street, all laughter and smiles. With a polite wave I turned them away. They disappeared back the way they came, disappointed and sullen, as I flipped off the sign indicating I was open.
“You taking me anywhere in particular?” I asked Roman, reaching for my helmet.
“Actually yes. That okay?”
I slipped it on, before pulling the chinstrap tight.
“I’m up for anything tonight,” I smiled roguishly. “As long as it’s with you.”
Thirty-Six
SAVANNAH
The ride was exhilarating, but all too short. I spent a half hour on the back of his big black motorcycle, spooning my body against Roman’s. Enjoying the feel of his tightly rippled stomach, as I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on for dear life.
We ended somewhere near Beacon Hill, just outside of campus. Boston University was a beautiful mix of antique architecture and urban sprawl; a perfect combination of today and yesterday. I admired the place as we rolled slowly by, the heat from the bike’s exhaust radiating comfortably upward beneath my thighs.
“Wanna see the river?” Roman asked.
I glanced left, to where the Charles River wound out lazily along a beautiful wooded park. Its surface glistened darkly in the moonlight.
“Sure.”
Five minutes later we were walking along a bike path, hand in hand. At his insistence, I was wearing his jacket. The heavy leather was soft and broken in, and smelled wonderful as it kept me warm.
“So this is your place, huh?” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“Your place. I can tell you come here often.”
Roman pulled me closer, his brown eyes almost liquid in the moonlight.
“I like to run,” he said. “Every morning I’m on campus, I do this path from end to end. And back.” He chuckled a little. “I know that probably sounds exhausting.”
“No, not at all,” I answered. “Not to me.”
“Oh no?” he laughed. “Why, were you some kind of track star?”
I hesitated a bit before answering. “No. But I ran a lot when I was younger.”
Roman looked down at me, carefully considering my reply. “Anywhere in particular?”
“Yes,” I said simply. “Away.”
Arm in arm, we walked some more. The usual warning bells in the back of my head were faint now, if they were even there at all. There was no need to be defensive. If the guys had showed me anything so far, it’s that as curious as they naturally were, none of them really pushed.
The river was beautiful, and so was the path. In the daylight, I could tell the trees would be spectacular
. Especially now, at this time of year. When everything was orange and gold and—
“Twenty wins sixty! Twenty wins sixty!”
Up ahead, the path opened into a small park square. A street performer was shouting loudly from behind his table, surrounded by a small group of people all watching him work.
