Skylar Jones was adopted into an old Italian aristocratic family when he was ten. His life goes under the strict control of his stepfather, Count Massimiliano De Angelis. Sky is a good boy and obeys the rules. One thing only he keeps to himself, his...
"Wohooo! E 'così fantasticooooo!" I yell and spread my arms wide to feel the warm wind flowing between my fingers. A tiny bump in the asphalt has me quickly clinging to Jason again. My smile is so big that it feels as if the helmet is too small to fit it. This is the most awesome thing I have ever done.
There are several routes you can take to get from Rome to Civitavecchia. I was convinced that Jason would choose the highway as the fastest and most convenient way. Boy, was I wrong! We are on SS1 instead, probably the longest but also incredibly picturesque, following the curves of the sea coast itself. We are crossing the small resort towns, passing by sunlit beaches and beautiful white hotels and cozy restaurants. The waves flash and sparkle between the lush crowns of palm trees at every turn. The constant smell of the sea here and there mixes with the smell of freshly cooked fish. The most romantic trip.
Suddenly, Jason takes a sharp turn and enters the labyrinth of small picturesque streets until he comes out on a small secluded the beach. We stop.
I raise the glass shield of the helmet and look at him questioningly. "What are you doing? This is Santa Marinella, not Civitavecchia. We still have twenty minutes to drive, haven't we?"
"It seems someone was looking at the signs while happily yelling in my ear." He grins and goes to unbuckle the strap under my chin. I should probably tell him that I can handle it myself, but it is too pleasant, so I just lean on the bike and squint at the sun. Jason bites his bottom lip in concentration. The place is a bit itchy. He starts rubbing it with his thumb. "Why didn't you tell me it was too tight? There is a reddish mark right here."
"Umm... Cough!... I didn't..." He has to stop being so nice and touchy or I will melt like snow in summer before we leave this place.
"Anyway, you are right." He obviously thinks the amateur massage has done its job and finally steps back. " I decided that we have enough time for a quick stop. I want to show you something."
"Oh?" My heart! This man did more romantic gestures in two days than my ex-boyfriend for three years. No! Stop it! He is not being romantic, just friendly. Keep your hopes down. I scratch my nose to gain some time before embarrassing myself with some bullshit that will quite certainly slip out of my mouth in this flustered state.
"Aren't you going to remove the helmet?" Jason nocks on top of it with a finger. "Hurry up. It is ten past nine. We have precisely half an hour. Then we'll have to get going if we want to be at the cruise port at ten sharp."
He heads down a narrow passage between the white wooden fences of two small hotels, slaloming between tall pots of pink oleanders and the rough trunks of a few palm trees. I try to follow without bumping in one of them. It is hard to navigate with a helmet on, especially in this heat. I have no choice, it has to be taken off at some point anyway. Aaaah, what a relief! These things can really heat your head up quickly when you are not on the bike.
We pop out on a small concrete terrasse enclosed by reed mats crammed with unpretentious plastic tables clustered under a cream-colored awning. We are the only customers of the restaurant. The beach is on one side. People are already sunbathing under the blue umbrellas. There is a small harbor crowded with motorboats on the other side. It is beautiful.
"Wow! How do you know about all these fantastic, secluded places?" I exclaim.
"That's one of my talents," Jason answers and peeks at me over his shoulder. The next second he snorts, covering his mouth with a hand. "Oh, my God! Sorry! Your hair... "
Fuck! I freeze in place and instantly turn fiery red. I knew it. The damn helmet. I just knew this was coming.
"Wait!" Jason grabs my hand, still fighting the cackles. "I am an ass. I am really sorry. Just didn't expect this. You had a completely different hair style when we left. What happened?"
"Is it that bad?" I mutter.
"No!... Oh, gosh! No, it is not bad." He pulls me closer and carefully brushes his fingers through my unruly locks. His eyes are full of laughter and something else I still can not quite read. "Sky... you are so damn... cute."
"Cute?" I gaze at him in disbelief. "I told you I don't take compliments well. Don't call me cute. What does my hair look like?"
"I think it's time you learn to take praise in stride," he says. "I can't lie about this. You are cute. Period. About your hair...umm...I don't really know how to describe it. Each strand sticks out in a different direction. It seems everything went straight up when you took the helmet off. But you look great. Many people dream of achieving this effect by sitting for hours in the beauty salons. It comes naturally to you. Cute."
"Stop repeating it," I hiss.
"Like a sea urchin." He snorts through laughter, dragging me to a nearby table. "Sit down. Stop pulling that face. And since I already mentioned it..."
"What?" I interrupt him. "Is this some kind of animal or algae?"
"Algae! Did you fall from Mars?" Jason waves to the waiter and promptly orders, "Due espressi, due acque fredde gassate e due spaghetti siciliani ai ricci di mare. (Two espressos, two bottles of ice-cold sparkling waters and twice Sicilian spaghetti with sea urchins.)
"Nooo," I instantly protest. "You do not expect me to eat pasta so early in the morning. Didn't I mention I was hangover?"
"Exactly," Jason knowingly says. "You need to eat something nutritious. Why are you always resisting? Haven't you figured out by now that I know what you need?"
I raise a brow at that statement but keep quiet. My smug companion smirks in satisfaction. I unintentionally raise my hand to smoothen my hair.
I unconsciously reach up to smooth my hair, but he grabs my wrist mid-air before I can do it and yells, "Don't touch my masterpiece."
"How did this suddenly come to your credit?" I grumble.
"Who gave you the helmet?" He winks at me. My cheeks heat up again. I am tempted to retort, but the foods comes.
"Wha... Oh, nooo... No way!" I stare at the gross, round, spiky thing in my plate. The pasta looks fantastic and smells even better, but this creature that seems to have come from an alien planet. How do you eat it at all?
Jason comes to my side of the table, phone in hand, grabs the spiky thing with two fingers and presses his cheek to mine. "Best time for a selfie. Smile, love. Say 'cheese'! Perfect. This is only the shell for decoration, so stop panicking. Now, grab the fork and dig in."
I have nothing else to do but to follow his instructions.
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Harbor in Santa Marinella
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A/N
Hello, at the end of Chapter 25.
Thank you so much for reading and supporting ❤️❤️❤️
Do you think Jason carefully planned this trip?
Does Sky even stand a chance of resisting him?
Have you tried sea urchin? 😀
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