“You work on Saturdays?” he asked me hoarsely.
“No.”
“Then why are you up?”
“I’m going to Naples.”
“To Naples? How?”
“On my bike.”
That shook him out of his stupor. “Maya! You can’t ride your bike to Naples!”
I burst out laughing: I don’t know if it was his expression of surprise or my anxiousness at seeing him undressed. “I’m taking a bus, Lucas! Did you honestly think I was just going to pedal there?”
“With you, I never know what to expect, honestly.”
I pushed him to make my way out of the doorframe and into the kitchen.
“I’ll take you,” he called from behind me.
Looking over my shoulder, I asked, “Don’t you have to work?”
“Not till Monday. Let me take you.”
“You wouldn’t rather go back to bed and rest?”
“Nah. Just let me shower quickly.”
He seemed out of it as he ran his hand through his hair, and I reminded him, “Listen, you don’t have to do this for me, OK? It’s your time. You don’t have to feel obliged to help me. I don’t need a babysitter. If you’re feeling sluggish, trust me, I can go and come back on my own…”
“Maya…” He cut me off. “I want to go with you.”
As I saw that smile of his reappear—so sly, so manly—I wondered if he knew he’d caused my heart to stop. Just for a second. Before it started galloping again.
“All right,” I said.
If someone asked me to describe Naples in one word, I’d have to say: color. The streets, the buildings, the shops…everything was color, so immense, so varied, that it seemed to knock you over. And yet, Naples was much more than that. It was Vesuvius in the distance, the blue sea, music in the streets, cheerful people, terrible traffic. A chaos of squealing tires, yelling people, honking horns.
“Careful!” Lucas shouted, pushing me against a wall as a motor scooter with two people on it passed a few inches from us on the sidewalk.
Scared to death, I brought a hand to my chest and muttered, “Fuck!”
“Are you all right? You’re trembling.”
I nodded. I didn’t tell him that every time a car passed or I heard brakes, my entire body tensed, waiting for the impact. That the memory of the accident came back to me clear as day, with phantom pains for the few seconds until my rational mind reminded me that all of that was behind me, and I was all right now.
“They drive crazy here,” I said.
Lucas looked back and forth and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. He pulled close to me, protecting me as people roved all around us and he pushed his way through them.
“‘Vedi Napoli e muori,’ they say.”
“What’s that mean?”
“See Naples and die. The idea is supposed to be that it’s so beautiful, you can die after, but I’m starting to think it’s really because you’re lucky to get out of here alive.”
I relaxed, leaning back on his chest and taking a moment to gather myself. I could feel his breath on my temple and his hand on my back, soft at first, then firmer as we walked on. Protective. Possessive, maybe. And it calmed me. So much so that when he asked if I was ready to keep walking, I was tempted to tell him,No, I want to stay like this forever.
