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Sports leagues were suspending all games.
Restaurants and retail stores were closing.
Panicked Americans were rushing to the grocery store to stock up on supplies. It was still the afternoon back home, but people were already complaining about empty shelves.
“Toilet paper?” I said out loud. “Apparently everyone’s buying up all the TP?”
“That’s how you know shitreallyhit the fan,” Donovan said.
I rolled my eyes, which made him grin harder at his joke.
We started doing research on ways to get home. With different countries around the world implementing varying levels of travel restrictions, the U.S. Government had created an online form for all Americans overseas who needed to return home. Donovan and I each filled out the form. We were then told that we were on a standby list, and would be contacted when travel arrangements could be made.
“Estimated wait time: between ten and thirty days?” I gasped when I read further down the page.
“They have no idea,” Donovan said. “They’re just guessing because everything is crazy right now. It could be next week for all we know.”
“Guess we won’t be going home soon after all,” I said.
Donovan sighed and kicked his feet up on the couch. “Look on the bright side. If we have to be stuck somewhere, the view is much better here.”
I glanced out the lobby window. The rain had faded enough that I could see across the plaza again. “Rome is definitely more beautiful than Indiana.”
He gave me a sly grin. “Wasn’t talking about the city.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Is that what you do on a third date? Flatter girls with compliments?”
“Normally, by the third date we’rewellpast compliments.” His grin deepened, and he looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, want to go upstairs?”
“I thought you were sick of being up there,” I said.
“I am, but there’s something I want to do.” He slid his feet off the couch and fixed me with his stormy gaze. “Something I’ve been doing by myself, but is alotmore fun with two people. And it’s messy. At least, it’s messy when you do it right. What do you say?”
I waited for the punchline. Donovan kept staring at me with his sexy poker face. Letting the invitation linger in the air like expensive cologne.
Is he really being so forward? Is he bluntly inviting me upstairs for sex?Last night he had wanted to cross the divider into my room, I was certain. And our flirting had escalated quite a bit when he was in the gym. Was he finally sayingfuck itand shooting his shot?
For a few heartbeats I let myself imagine it. Donovan pushing me down onto the bed with a hungry, desperate look in his eyes. Tearing off my clothes like they offended him. Nuzzling and licking andfillingme with everything he had…
“Sure,” I found myself saying in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. “Show me what you have in mind.”
He smiled like it was exactly what he wanted to hear.
13
Molly
The Day We Got Dirty
“This wasn’t the kind of messy I expected.”
I was standing in front of the divider between our rooms, which was open. I had dragged my desk over, cleaned it thoroughly with soap, and then when it was dry I sprinkled flour across the surface. Donovan was directly in front of me in his kitchen, punching a big roll of dough and sending bits of flour in all directions.
“I promise it will leave you satisfied,” he said over his shoulder in a sexy voice. “What’s more satisfying than beingfilledwith thick, salty pasta?”
I laughed and said, “You’re not wrong.”
Together, on either side of the dividing doorway, we made pasta together. Donovan had a technique where he cracked an egg open on the counter, then spun it around the flour until it slowly began coalescing into dough. Every so often he splashed a little water or oil on the counter too. When he was done, he tossed the dough to my side of the room, where I continued kneading it with my fingers and rolling it smooth.
