“What film were you in?”
“It was one of the Jason Bourne spin-offs. It didn’t do great in the box office. I thought for a minute my future might have been in Hollywood.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I was wrong,” he adds.
“Not the next DiCaprio?”
“No. Let’s just say I wasn’t booked again. Besides they cut all my scenes.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I decided acting wasn’t for me after that.”
Without much thought he links his hand in mine, his warm knuckles wide between my fingers. Something about the pressure makes my breathing unsteady. I press my lips together to see how long it takes him to notice, but all he does grin at me over his shoulder.
*
Later that afternoon, after exploring the Colosseum and strolling through old ruins of the Roman Forum, we hop back on the Vespa and whizz over to Vatican City. As we walk up to St. Peter’s Basilica, Gus stops short to eye up the massive queue.
“This could be tricky,” he whispers, leaning into me. I nod, prepared to sack it off when I spot an opportunity. A large tour is on the move ahead of us, a man with astrong scouse accent, is holding a British flag and rounding everyone up.
I grab Gus’s hand and drag him into the fold. “What the—”
“Sssh,” I hiss, nudging him with my elbow. “Don’t say anything. We’ll just follow this tour.”
“Sara. I can’t go into these buildings with my hat and sunglasses on. They’re places of worship. I’m bound to be spotted.”
I check the crowd around us. There isn’t anyone looking his way, but honestly, nearly everyone is much older than us. I doubt they’ll know who he is. And yet, I’ve seen how tense he gets when he thinks he’s about to be pounced on. I sigh. “We can leave if you’re really worried. We’ll just sneak out that way?”
“No,” he whispers. “You wanted to do this. Let’s do it.”
“I just like basking in the history,” I whisper back. “I like to pretend I lived here in a past life.”
Gus raises his eyebrows. “In the Vatican?”
“Hey. I might’ve been an old, bald man in medieval times. You don’t know.”
We seem to go unnoticed for the first part of the tour. An hour in though, when we’re considering sneaking away because it’s a little slow for us, the tour guide glances at Gus and I’m pretty sure he knows who he is.
At the end, full of guilt for crashing it, Gus thanks the tour guide and offers to sign something for him. The man is elated but highly discreet. He helps us through the crowds and back to the street unnoticed.
“Hey,” Gus says, taking my arm before I can strap my helmet back on. “Thanks for that, that was incredible.” He’s gazing at me intently.
“Oh, it’s nothing! I seized an opportunity.”
“Yes, you did,” he grins. “Very spontaneous of you.”
I can’t help the blush that creeps up my neck. Thankfully, his phone buzzes, saving me from the moment. He retrieves it from his pocket, staring down at the screen. For a moment I’m worried I’ve fucked up, that he’s been spotted, and there are pictures of us all over the tabloids. I’m about to ask him when he looks up and smiles.
“Fancy meeting Cole for dinner in the city?”
I tilt my head. “Do you really need me to answer that question?”
Twenty-TwoCruise Location – TaorminaNext Port – RomeTime of Arrival – 10:00 (GMT+1)
As soon as I’m back in my room, staring at my limited clothing, I realise agreeing to go to dinner with not one, buttwoworld-famous superstars in Rome might’ve been a stretch.
