“Don't follow me,” Adam said. He meant it to be funny, but it had come out wrong. You know... Don't. Stop. Don't stop. That kind of idea. Adam wasn’t sure if he’d understood.
The guy laughed, nervously, like he didn’t understand, didn't have a clue. “My name is Luca,” he said.
“I’m Adam.” He suddenly felt shy, because he’d given away a part of himself by telling Luca his name, he wasn’t sure.
“We should find a cafe,” Luca said looking around. “It is not very busy.”
“I shouldn’t?” said Adam.
Luca shrugged, waved his hands in the air and looked confused. “We could sit outside, at the table over at that café and drink coffee...in full view... of everyone. What harm could there be?”
Of course, Adam knew damn well what harm there could be, as Luca put it. Those beautiful green eyes just had to be addressed, watched out for, taken notice of.
The day that he’d had enough of Stephen, the day he’d decided to act and not continue to merely take Stephen’s meanness and lies, the day he’d pretty much – it may not happen over night, but it will happen – decided to leave Stephen, finally, here was a handsome stranger asking Adam to accompany him, even if it was only for coffee.
“We could get to know each other a little better?” said Luca. “No?”
Adam’s asked the universe, that morning, when he’d made up his mind about Stephen, to give him a sign and here it was, in all it’s obvious glory. It couldn’t be more clear and he didn’t have the faintest idea what to do.
“What do you say?” said Luca.
Adam’s sister, Jamie’s, last words to him, before she left Australia were, Forget Stephen and come to Italy with me and I’ll find you a charming Italian boy. Jamie had been gone a week, back to Italy to forget or replace, Pascal, who she’d just broken up with, Adam wasn’t sure. All Adam could think of was the fun the two of them had had learning phrases from Jamie’s Italian phrase book.
Where is the closest Catholic church? Point in any direction and say Pope? Jamie added that all Italian boys got religious stiffies inside cathedrals, in the motherland, so churches were a good hunting ground.
Please stop humping my leg – Italian boys being Italian boys, Adam and Jamie’s mother, Eve, had said that Jamie should memorise that one. God bless them, Eve had added quietly. Jamie added that had she used that particular phrase, she would never have discovered Pascal and hash in Naples, after which her eyes filled with tears and she didn’t want to play the phrase game any longer.
“I'll tell your mother if you don't stop it,” said Adam. It was the first thing that came to mind. He laughed nervously.
"My mama?" Luca said, with a curious smile.
“Oh!” Adam returned from his day-dream. He covered his mouth with his hand, as if to stop any thing else from slipping out. “I’m sorry. My sister... a phrase book.” Adam shrugged.
“What harm could coffee do, I ask you?” said Luca.
“What harm indeed,” said Adam. Stephen’s angry face, despite everything, came into his mind. He’d been angry, pissed off, hurt, cross, shitty, all of those things for such a long time and Adam really had no idea why.
Jamie said it was because he had some kind of secret that was eating at him.
"How far do you have to walk?" he said. "I have a car. I could take you, wherever...”
Adam shrugged. “No, I think coffee would be just...” He laughed, involuntarily. “Lovely. Why not.”
“Wonderful,” Luca said. He took Adam's hand, just naturally, as they crossed the street. Luca's hand felt warm, big, amazing, in Adam’s. He knew that this wasn’t a chance meeting. He knew, some how, that this was what he’d been waiting for. He couldn’t get the smile off his face. He couldn’t calm the butterflies in his stomach.
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