Drawn to Life (13 page)

Chapter 29

Mia—My Body Says No

Rome, June 2012

Samuel led me to a pond with a small, Greek-inspired temple in the middle.

We lowered ourselves to the ground, close to the water. I smiled at Samuel. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For all this.” I gestured around with both arms. “And for being here.” I looked into his gray eyes sparkling in the sunshine.

“My pleasure,” he said, moving closer.

This time, exerting control over my usual reactions, I didn’t flinch. I wanted him near me. Samuel stirred something inside that had been suppressed for a very long time. A desire to feel. To feel myself, and to feel others. Carefully, I edged toward him until only a foot remained between us. He looked into my eyes and crept even closer. With the closing of each inch, my heart beat quickened and the knot in my stomach tightened.

Samuel’s gaze was intense. I was hardly aware of what was happening. My thoughts grew chaotic. A part of me wanted him to touch me, but everything else in me rejected that impulse, blocked it: Fear. My lack of self-confidence. The thought that the time I had left was too short. My anxieties increased, finally gaining the upper hand. Nervously, I circled my hand around my left arm. I could feel the scar through the fabric of my dress. I began scratching. My emotions were in turmoil, screaming that I must defy the feelings he was stirring to life. My whole already-unbalanced world was about to collapse. Everything would be consumed by confusion.

That must not happen.

I abruptly turned away and stared at the green water softly lapping at the shore. Samuel sighed, but he didn’t say anything. I tucked up my legs, wrapping my arms around them so I could rest my chin on my knees.

We sat in silence for a long while, and I stared at the Temple of Aesculapius. A few tourists in rowboats passed by. In the shallow water close to the bank, countless doves bathed, dipping their beaks into the pond and shaking out their feathers to dry. Ducks quacked and chased each other across the surface. Yet it was still quiet enough that I could hear every movement Samuel made and every breath he took. Something deep inside me wanted to turn toward him. Wanted to look into those eyes again and feel his nearness. But my body said no. My body won. I wasn’t ready yet.

“I don’t want to cross your boundaries, Mia,” Samuel eventually said.

I didn’t look at him.

“It won’t happen again. I simply got carried away.”

“Don’t worry. It . . . I probably sent out the wrong signals,” I stammered. The vibe between us had turned awkward.

“No, no, really . . . I’ll be more thoughtful next time.”

I turned my head. Sam was watching me with sad, puppy-dog eyes. He was still sitting in the same position he’d first taken, legs slightly bent, ankles crossed, leaning slightly back on his propped-up arms. The snug fit of his faded black T-shirt with its Pac-Man logo accentuated the shape of his muscles, revealing how well built he was. I couldn’t divert my eyes from his chest, fantasizing how it might feel to touch him there. Wondering if he’d shiver if I did. I tried to shake off my thoughts, literally by shaking my head, and then looked at him again. I could tell by the grin on his face that he’d noticed I’d been undressing him with my eyes. Blushing, I grinned.

“Let’s go” was all I could say. I got up and, after a few steps, realized he wasn’t behind me. I looked around. He was still sitting on the grass, staring at me, a broad smile on his face. With a gesture of my head, I motioned him to join me.

He jumped to his feet and said, “OK, OK. I’m coming.”

Chapter 30

Samuel—More Rome

Rome, June 2012

I mean, go figure, right? It was obvious Mia was attracted to me. How would I not have sensed it in that moment at the pond? Mia was hot, period. A guy just had to look at her to get, well, turned on. And now that she wasn’t wearing that gray scrap of cloth anymore, she was even hotter. I wouldn’t tell her that I had found her hat under her bed. She didn’t need it. Nothing about her needed hiding. I wasn’t lying when I’d told her she looked amazing. She did. And much more. She radiated something special, something enigmatic, but she concealed it well. Maybe she wasn’t even aware of her uniqueness. But if she was, she seemed to be trying everything in her power to suppress it, and she was damned good at doing so. Everything about her shouted “Leave me alone!” But her tough facade was beginning to crumble.

I could tell, by comparing the way she acted now with how she’d behaved when we’d met on the train. Now she wanted more. Mia wanted to touch and she wanted to feel. I’d pretended to be asleep on the bus when she’d caressed my face. I had kept as still as I could, otherwise I knew she would have flinched away. I’d enjoyed her touch, so gentle, almost imperceptible. When she’d caressed my lips, I’d wanted to open my eyes and take her sweet face between my hands. Instead of her fingertips, I wanted to feel her full red lips on mine. When she’d withdrawn her fingers, I’d startled some. Her warmth was gone. Guess I wanted more, too.

When we were at the pond, I nearly threw myself at her. I’d promised myself that I’d leave her alone, that I wouldn’t touch her. That I wouldn’t look at her as if I wanted to undress her. But hell, she made it very difficult. I only needed to see those shimmering eyes for a moment, and I was totally lost. My body reacted with an independence all its own.

I moved in again. The breeze swept her sweet vanilla aroma into the air. I shifted closer still and looked into her eyes. For a long time, she held my gaze. Then she abruptly turned away. I could have guessed that would happen.

She acted as if nothing had occurred between us and, after a few minutes, was back to wearing her usual mask, smiling as if everything was normal. Maybe she really didn’t like me, didn’t want me. Maybe I had totally misread her. But, really, hadn’t
she
undressed
me
with her eyes, too?

She got up. “Let’s go,” was all she said. She walked a few steps. I continued sitting, hypnotized by her beauty, then she turned and motioned for me to join her.

I grinned and said, “OK, OK. I’m coming.”

As we strolled along, I asked, “Where do you want to go next?”

She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to see St. Peter’s.”

“Your wish is my command.” I winked at her.

We continued walking, then Mia abruptly stopped and turned to me. “I’ve assumed you know your way around in Rome. At least that’s what you’ve led me to believe.”

“That’s right,” I said.

Mia crossed her arms over her chest. “Then why are we walking in the wrong direction?”

“Are we?” I raised my eyebrows and scratched my head.

“I’m not particularly great with directions, maps, or the like, but I’m pretty sure St. Peter’s is not far from the hostel. This part of town looks totally unfamiliar.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I promised to show you St. Peter’s, and I will. Just from another angle. And without standing in line. Well, not as long of a line.”

She bit her lip again, and I looked away from the temptation she presented.

“OK, then. I guess I’ll keep following you.”

“You’ll be glad—I’m sure of it.” I smiled.

We walked up the Aventine Hill until we reached the monastery of the Knights of Malta.

“A high wall?” she asked.

“Oh yes.” I grinned.

“It’s really beautiful here, looks like a very nice residential neighborhood. But what’s here to show me?”

“Come a little closer. Fortunately, nobody else is here right now,” I said and, without thinking twice, reached out my hand. Oops, damn it . . .

But Mia didn’t flinch. Instead, she inspected my hand and seemed to think about actually taking it. But she only raised her head and smiled at me. “Well then, show me what you want to show me.” She didn’t grab my hand.

“See the big gate?” We approached a large, iron entrance. “Just peep through the keyhole.”

Mia looked at me, confused. “And why would I do that?”

“You really haven’t researched your trip very well,” I said.

“I didn’t research anything. I didn’t really have a plan of where I wanted to go. I’m playing it by ear,” she said, this time more seriously.

“Great. So we can continue being spontaneous together.”

“With pleasure.” She was smiling again. Why didn’t she wear that smile all the time?

“Now look through the keyhole.”

She leaned forward. “St. Peter’s,” she whispered.

“See? I told you!” My surprise was a success.

Chapter 31

Mia—My Rules

Rome and Beyond, June 2012

I had been traveling with Samuel for almost a week now and enjoying every minute of it. He made me laugh. He knew when it was best to be silent. The most important thing was he respected that I didn’t want any intimacy. Well, I did want intimacy, but I couldn’t handle it. In any case, Samuel didn’t try to touch me again. I wasn’t sure whether I liked that or not.

We spent three days in Rome. After our first unconventional day, I insisted on seeing the typical sites—Colosseum, Castel Sant’Angelo, Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter’s Basilica. This time, up close. As he’d predicted, we had to wait far too long in lines. But the time sped by with Sam by my side.

Over lunch one day, I gathered all my courage.

“Um . . . Samuel?”

He looked up from his plate and motioned at mine. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like the food?”

I shook my head. “That’s not it.”

“Then why aren’t you eating? You do know that coffee in the morning doesn’t count as a meal, right?” He looked worried. “When
do
you eat, anyway? I’ve only seen you nibble on some white bread, and that was yesterday.”

I frowned. I really didn’t feel like discussing my dietary choices. “I eat when I’m hungry.” I’d heard this lecture often enough from my family. “And I’ll eat more later.”

“Good. Otherwise, I might just force-feed you.” He grinned. “Anyway, what were you saying?”

I ran my fingers through my short hair. I still hadn’t found my hat. Kriszta had done a good job as a hair stylist, but right now, I wished I’d brought two hats.

I rested my hands in my lap and began picking a cuticle. “I only wanted . . . um . . .” I couldn’t find the right words. I’d never stammered like this before my illness. I looked into Samuel’s eyes and started over. “I’m not sure where you’re headed after Rome, but it’d be nice if we could continue traveling together. At least for a little while longer.”

“I thought that was a given,” he said matter-of-factly and continued eating.

That evening, we sat in my room and planned our itinerary. We couldn’t just roam aimlessly all the time. We decided our next stop would be Nice, where we figured there’d be plenty of sights to see.

When we arrived in Nice, the city’s charm almost overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to schedule anything; I only wanted to explore the narrow streets and back alleys. Stroll the outdoor markets. Savor each moment.

Noticing how happy just meandering wherever I felt like made me, Samuel agreed to anything I suggested.

Grinning at me, he said, “Let’s spend a few days here.”

I flashed him a genuine smile. This city felt so vibrant. And suddenly there it was again, finally—a long-missed, incredibly amazing happiness inside me.

There was only one problem. Samuel said he’d had enough of cheap beds. I bit my tongue and didn’t point out that he’d slept in a
cheap bed
for only three days, which wasn’t that long. He insisted we stay in a hotel. And not just any hotel. No, he wanted one of the most expensive ones, one way outside my budget. I decided to leave to find a hostel, but he didn’t want me spending the night by myself in a foreign city. That was very sweet of him, but what choice did I have?

We went back and forth for a long time before he finally convinced me to go with him to a hotel he chose, saying he’d pay. I accepted on the condition that it would be for only one night, and that I would have my own room, preferably the smallest one available.

“OK, you got it. After that, we can go back to those fleabags again. That is, if you don’t notice how amazing the mattresses are here,” he added with a wink as we entered the lobby.

“You wait and see. I won’t stay more than one night. Believe me, I’ve slept in far worse than youth hostels.” For instance, in the hospital during my prolonged stays, week after week, on a hard bed, and while lying perfectly still. I closed my eyes and raised a hand to massage my temple. I didn’t want to think about this right now.

“We have only one room left,” the man at the front desk said.

“We’ll take it,” Samuel answered.

I stared at him. The clerk began typing something into the computer. “You can’t do this,” I hissed.

He looked at me with innocent eyes. “Why not? We won’t be there much anyway. And I’m actually saving money.”

I continued to glare at him. “It was your idea to spend the night here. You offered to pay for my room. I didn’t want it. And now you’re whining about money? As if you don’t have a shitload of it?”

The man at the front desk looked up briefly, then continued typing.

Samuel stared me down. “Forget about the money. It’s not about the money. Besides I could pay for as many nights as we want. The bottom line is I won’t leave you alone. And I don’t want to go back to a hostel with backbreaking beds. Please, let’s take this room,” he implored.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “All right. But there will be rules.”

He laughed.

We filled out the required documents, and the clerk handed us the key.

In the room, I plopped down on the oversized canopy bed and let myself fall back. The mattress was perfectly soft. The sheets smelled marvelous. This was awesome . . .

With a broad grin, Samuel walked past me and tossed his backpack on the sofa. “I see you’re already enjoying yourself.”

I straightened up quickly. “It’s just a bed.” A very comfortable bed, but I would never admit that.

“I’ll ask you again tomorrow if you still feel it’s
just a bed
.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me tell you my rules now,” I said. Sam took a seat at the foot of the huge mattress. I scooted to the middle and sat cross-legged, facing him. “Number one. This is
my
bed.”

Samuel burst into gales of laughter. I crossed my arms and waited for him to quiet. He finally wiped at the tears in his eyes but continued to chuckle. “You said the sofa would be fine.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “I’ve been sitting on this bed for only five minutes, and I don’t intend to abandon it.”

“Ha! I knew it,” he exclaimed. “But you can have it.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I continued, “The bathroom is off-limits whenever I’m in there. Even if I’m only brushing my teeth or my hair.”

He nodded.

“Not even a peek is permitted, at all, when I’m in my pajamas and especially not when I’m getting dressed.”

“That’s it?”

Now I nodded.

“I think I can manage,” he said.