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“My turn,” she says after about a half-hour. We switch spots. I try not to sit too close to her but it’s nearly impossible. I hold onto her waist.
She turns back to me. “I’m not sure what to do. Show me.”
I lean forward, my arms wrapped around her body to show her everything on the handles. When I finish, I pull back, my arms slowly dragging along hers. She shivers a little. I pretend not to notice.
She squeals as she starts us forward in one big lurching motion. I grab onto her waist and hold on tightly. “Were you trying to knock me off?” I say.
She just laughs.
We drive around for another hour and then she says, “I’m hungry.”
“For lunch or gelato?” I say.
We’re pulled over in a little village. She throws her head back and laughs. “You know me so well.”
“So gelato?”
She shakes her head. “I would love gelato, but I saw a little restaurant back there. It has outdoor seating.”
“Sounds nice.” I pull off my helmet, and she fiddles with hers.
“Dammit. I can’t get this strap.”
“Want help?” I offer.
“Please.” She drops her hands and then looks up at me with her big wide eyes.
I brush some of her hair out of the way. She’s stopped breathing. So have I.
The buckle is stuck. After a few tries, nothing happens.
I lean forward. “Let me get a better look.”
The back of my hand skims over her neck as I work. Her skin is so soft. I just want to touch her everywhere.
“Oh, I think I see,” I say as I move it a slightly different direction. I press the release once more, and it opens. Once it’s free, I step back, and we both let out big exhales. She removes her helmet and sets it on the Vespa.
“Thank you,” she reaches forward and grabs my hand. Our eyes are locked. Before I can stop her, she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I don’t have a chance to react - her hands slide around my neck and her body presses into mine. How can something feel so right and so wrong at the same time? I push that thought away and let go of every thought in my head. One of my hands finds its way to her hair and the other to her lower back. I pull her closer to me. I never want this moment to end but it does, abruptly, when a motorbike whizzes by and honks loudly. Both of us jump back.
We’re both breathing heavily, eyes locked on each other’s once again.
I touch my lips. Shit. This can’t happen.
She’s looking at me without an ounce of regret.
I start shaking my head.
“Don’t do that,” she says, her eyes are pleading with me now.
“Juno, you know we can’t,” I say.
She steps forward and puts her hand on my bicep. “Why not, Bo?”
Bo. Goddammit. I need her to stop touching me and calling me nicknames.
“Come on,” I say, taking her by the arm. “Let’s get lunch.”
We sit down at the outdoor tables and a server brings us menus. She doesn’t look at hers. “You’re just going to ignore that.”
