All I Believe

by Alexa Land

  “Absolutely.”

  We went into the hotel, and when we reached our suite Jessie asked, “Would it be okay if I spent the night in your room with you? Obviously I mean that in a totally platonic practically-your-brother sense. I could just really use some company tonight.” When I agreed, he hurried to change into a pair of pajamas and brush his teeth.

  I was under the covers in shorts and a t-shirt when he joined me. He shut off the light and slid in bed beside me, then said, “Thanks for letting me bunk with you.”

  “I was feeling a little lost tonight,” I admitted, “so I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I feel the same way. I guess maybe I’m a little disappointed that things didn’t work out differently with Giorgio. I was so excited when we first met. I thought I’d finally found a guy who was as into me as I was into him. But it seems like that’s never the case.”

  “You’re such a great guy, Jess. Sooner or later, you’re going to find someone who truly appreciates you.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I think I smother the guys I date. I want to be in a relationship so desperately that I try way too hard and rush things and just generally completely fail to play it cool. It scares ‘em off quicker than anything. I’m starting to doubt I’ll ever find a guy who’ll put up with that shit,” he said.

  “The right guy won’t care about any of that.”

  “I hope so.”

  We were both quiet for a while, and I tucked my hands behind my head and stared toward the ceiling (not at it, since I’d taken my glasses off and couldn’t see that far). Then Jessie asked out of the blue, “You’re totally crazy about Luca, aren’t you?”

  “God yes, even though that scares the hell out of me. You know I was only looking for a summer fling, and even that was going to be a stretch after the way my last relationship ended. I’m supposed to be keeping this casual, not thinking about him every waking moment. We only went out a few times, he’s not supposed to matter this much to me!”

  “I guess it’s not really the kind of thing you can control. I get why it happened, too. There’s this crazy connection between the two of you, anyone can see it. The fact that you were drawn together twice is proof of that. You two are meant to be. It’s like the entire universe aligned to make sure you found each other again.”

  I rolled onto my side and smiled at Jessie in the darkness. “That’s an incredibly romantic notion.”

  “What can I say? I’m a true believer in happily ever after.”

  “I don’t know what to think about the way he broke our plans and ran off without offering any explanations.”

  “Do you believe Luca cares about you?” I didn’t have to think about it. I just nodded. Jessie said, “So, I guess all you can do is trust him. It sounds like some things are going on in his life that are beyond his control, and maybe he has a really good reason for not telling you what’s going on.” I sighed quietly and nodded.

  *****

  Rome was a shock to the system after the slow pace of Viladembursa. I loved big cities and normally thrived on their energy, but this time it felt a bit jarring. Despite that, I made an effort to look past the noise, crowds and traffic and tried to appreciate all that made Rome truly great. The city was vibrant and unique, the ancient and the modern sharply juxtaposed, and there was so much to love about it. I just had to get in the right mindset.

  I tried to take a note from Jessie’s playbook and let his enthusiasm rub off on me. Each day, I played tour guide, showing my friend all the major attractions and a few lesser known gems. He was delighted with them all.

  Nana and Ollie (and Diego Rivera, the Chihuahua) accompanied us some of the time, but also went off to do things as a couple, including romantic dinners, trips to the theater, and a tremendous amount of shopping. He showered her with gifts, and she did the same for him. Olivio Caravetti hadn’t been involved with anyone since his wife passed almost a decade earlier, and after her husband left her for a woman half his age, Nana wasn’t going to give her heart to just anyone. But they were both willing to try, and that was a beautiful thing.

  All in all, I was doing a pretty good job focusing on my vacation and not just obsessing about Luca constantly. That became a lot harder in the middle of the night, though, when sleep eluded me and thoughts of him wrapped themselves around me and held on tight. I got in the habit of slipping out of our suite around two a.m. each night and walking the half-mile or so to Trevi Fountain.

  During the day, the popular attraction was choked with tourists, but at that time of night I usually had it to myself. The winged horses reminded me a lot of the fountain in Viladembursa, and maybe that was what kept drawing me. I’d stand there for an hour or so, taking comfort in the familiar and missing Luca with every part of me.

  Before I’d head back to the hotel, I’d always pull a coin from my pocket and whisper to it, “Come back to me, Luca,” before throwing it in the water. You were supposed to wish you’d return to Rome one day when you threw a coin in the Trevi Fountain, but I asked instead for the thing I wanted more than anything.

  On my fifth evening in Rome, Jessie was feeling a bit under the weather and had turned in early. Nana and Ollie had gone on a dinner cruise, so Diego Rivera and I were hanging out together in a quiet corner of the lobby. The tiny dog was dressed in a sky blue, bulky sweater that day (he had them in every color, and I’d learned they were hand-knit by Ollie). He let out a tremendous yawn before curling up on my lap and putting his head on his paws. I’d brought my law journals downstairs with me, but I couldn’t even sort of concentrate. I kept re-reading the same paragraph over and over, but instead of sinking in, it bounced off like a ball against a brick wall.

  Eventually I gave up, tilting my head back and staring up at the high, ornate ceiling. The lobby was opulent, a rich composition of golds and reds and grand details including an enormous chandelier. It was such a beautiful setting that I’d been spending a lot of my free time there.

  I was sitting near the front desk, and sat up when I heard an unfamiliar voice say in a weird mashup of Spanish and Italian, “I must speak to Nicolo Dombruso. What is his room, please?”

  The desk clerk politely informed him that he couldn’t give out room numbers, and I called, “I’m Nico Dombruso.”

  The stranger turned and looked around. He was a handsome guy of about thirty with thick, brown hair that grazed his shoulders, a tidy beard and tattooed forearms. His clothes were so rumpled that it looked like he’d slept in them. I gave him a little wave, and he rushed over and exclaimed, “Nico, what a lucky coincidence! I’m Ignacio Mondelvano.” He spoke in English with a thick accent that made me think of Antonio Banderas.

  “The artist?” When he nodded, I scooped up the dog and quickly got to my feet as I stammered, “I have one of your paintings!”

  Ignacio flashed me a perfect smile as he shook my hand. “Yes, I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Do you have some time? I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Really?”

  “We should hurry. My car’s parked illegally in front of the hotel. Bring Diego Rivera, he likes the convertible.”

  The dog was wagging his tail and wiggling in my arms, and tried to lick his hand when Ignacio scratched his ears. “Ollie must have sent you,” I guessed. “Are he and Nana alright?”

  “I’m sure they’re fine wherever they are, but this has nothing to do with them. I’ll explain everything, but we should go before my car is towed.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I tossed the law journals on a table and forgot all about them as we headed to the door.

  The convertible in question turned out to be an ancient, faded, red Fiat Spider. Diego Rivera jumped into what there was of a backseat and stood on his hind legs, trying to peer over the edge of the car. Ignacio and I got in, too. He smiled and waved at the hotel’s parking attendant, who was giving him an exasperated look, then started the engine and shot forward. It was surprising that the old Fiat had that much power (or any at all)
.

  I grasped somewhat frantically for my seatbelt as Ignacio said, shouting a little over the rush of air, “You need to be more careful, Nicolo. I could be anybody, and you just let me abduct you. Next time, ask for identification or something.”

  “Noted, although people aren’t exactly lining up to kidnap me.”

  “Still. You should think about your safety.”

  He threw the car into fourth gear in order to run a light that was about to turn red, and I braced myself and told him, “Maybe driving a bit slower would be an idea if you’re concerned about my safety.”

  “Driving in Roman traffic is like swimming in a shark tank,” he countered, flinging the car into a roundabout at full speed. “You only survive if you show no fear.”

  “I really don’t think sharks care if you show fear. They just eat you anyway.” I reached behind me and scooped up the dog, who was tottering around the backseat, and added, “Also, feel free to tell me where we’re going and why. Not that this whole suspense thing isn’t exciting.”

  “Someone wants to see you. He couldn’t come get you himself, so I volunteered.”

  “You don’t mean Luca Caruso, do you? I didn’t think you knew each other.”

  “Luca is a very new friend, but I quite like him, so I’m happy to intervene in his love life.”

  “Why couldn’t he come get me?”

  Ignacio turned to look at me. “This I don’t know, only that he can’t stop talking about you and wanted to see you.”

  “Could you keep your eyes on the road, please?” I asked, clutching the doorframe with one hand and the Chihuahua with the other.

  He grinned and faced forward again as he said, “I hardly ever crash. You don’t need to worry.”

  “Hardly ever. Good to know.”

  We traveled north, out of the city center, and eventually we reached a ramshackle church near the river. Ignacio parked the car and plucked Diego Rivera from my hands as he said, “Go on in, he’ll be so happy to see you. I’ll take the dog for a walk to give you two a little time.”

  “What is this place?” I asked as I climbed out of the Fiat.

  “It’s my studio, and home for now.”

  “Is it condemned and about to be leveled with a wrecking ball? Or is it just going to collapse in on itself without any help?”

  He shrugged and said, “It’s stood for a hundred and seventy years, it’ll stand for a few more.”

  I went in through a heavy, wooden side door, and emerged into a wide-open space with high ceilings. The plaster was crumbling and the pews and altar were long gone, but it still had that feeling that all old churches had, a kind of quiet somberness. Long extension cords snaked across the worn wood floor, leading to tall, portable lights that gave it the feeling of a movie set. Half a dozen easels were set up around the edges of the room, and the smell of oil paint and linseed oil hung in the air.

  A door opened to the left of where the altar would have been, and Luca stepped out. My heart leapt at the sight of him. He was barefoot, hadn’t shaved in days, his hair was tousled and his faded jeans and white button-down shirt looked like they’d been slept in. To me, he looked more beautiful than ever, more real and vulnerable somehow, compared to his usual perfect exterior.

  When he saw me, his face lit up and he rushed over and grabbed me in an embrace. “Nico,” he murmured, burying his face in my hair, “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I missed you, too.” I had a million questions, but nothing was more important right then than holding him, touching him, breathing in his clean, familiar scent. My lips found his and I tasted his mouth, his whiskers coarse but oddly appealing against my skin. I caressed his face, his hair, and when he pulled back to look in my eyes, I ran a fingertip over his full lips.

  “My beautiful Nico,” he whispered. I liked the fact that he called me his, probably more than I should have. He kissed me again and I let my eyes slide shut. God it felt good to be in his arms. It felt like I was exactly where I belonged.

  He told me, “I’m so fucking sorry that I had to break our plans and run off on short notice.”

  “What happened?”

  Luca put his head on my shoulder and said, “If I asked you to trust me and said I couldn’t talk about it, would you be willing to just leave it at that?”

  “I can try, but you should know trust doesn’t come easily to me these days.”

  “I know. I get that I’m asking a lot here.”

  “I’m worried about you. Something big is obviously going on in your life and I want to help, but you’re shutting me out.”

  “I’m sorry, Nicky.”

  I was quiet for a few moments, filtering through the hundred questions I had cued up, and finally distilled them down to one. “Who were you arguing with in front of the hotel in Viladembursa, right before you took off?”

  “That was my brother Andreo. I didn’t realize you saw me.”

  “So, this is family-related.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, that’s all I need to know.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded and said, “I wanted to have a general idea of what you were dealing with for my own peace of mind, and now I do. I won’t press you for details. Whatever’s going on is your business, not mine.”

  Luca kissed my cheek and whispered, “Thank you for being far more understanding than I deserve.”

  He led me over to an old, overstuffed couch that was against one wall, and pushed aside a rumpled blanket and a couple pillows before sinking into it and pulling me down with him. I nuzzled his shoulder and balled up his shirt in my hands as I clutched him to me and he held me tight. There was no such thing as playing it cool with Luca, not when it felt so incredibly good to be in his arms.

  “I know this sounds pathetic,” I whispered after a while, “but please don’t hurt me. You have me right in the palm of your hand, Luca, and it would take so little to break me. Please don’t make me regret trusting you.”

  He wrapped himself around me like a shell. “The last thing I want is to hurt you, Nicky, and I promise you I’m not seeing anyone else. You’re what I want, only you. In case you’re wondering, Ignacio is just a friend. I met him when I returned to Rome, and he’s been very kind to me. He’s even letting me stay here while I get a few things sorted out.”

  “Are you…never mind.”

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t going to ask any more questions, but I forgot for a moment and almost asked if you were hiding from your family. That’s none of my business, though.”

  “I don’t know if I’m hiding, exactly. I’m definitely avoiding them. I’m furious with my brother, and I have no interest in another confrontation with him. Ignacio’s place is completely off Andreo’s radar, which is why I’m staying here. My brother and I need some time to cool down, before we say or do something we can’t take back.”

  “I see.” Luca kissed my forehead as I put my head on his chest. I had so many more questions, including how I fit into all of that. Even if he was avoiding his family, why wouldn’t he come get me himself? It wasn’t as though his brother would be staking out the St. Regis. But I made a conscious decision to let it drop. Luca didn’t want to talk about it, and I needed to respect that.

  He stroked my hair as he asked me, “When your family vacation ends, do you have to hurry back to the states for school?”

  “No. I’ll still have some time before classes begin.”

  “Would you consider going away with me for a couple weeks after your grandmother and Jessie fly back home?”

  I tilted my head to look up at him. “Where would we go?”

  “Someplace quiet and romantic, where we can spend days naked in each other’s arms.”

  That sounded like heaven. I told him, “I have five more days here, then ten in Venice. Where would you want to meet after that?”

  “Where are you staying in Venice?” I told him the name of the hotel, and he said, “I don’t know where we’ll go yet, but
I’ll get it all planned out. Then I’ll send you a message at the hotel. Are you okay with it being a surprise?”

  “Sure. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, either. I just want to be with you, that’s all that matters.”

  “There you go, being so sweet again. I have to start calling you mio dolce caro.”

  I grinned at that, and translated, “My sweet darling, that’s nice. I once again appreciate your willingness to dive head-first into the industrial-grade terms of endearment.”

  Luca grinned, too. “Only for you, mio tesoro. You inspire me to strive for new heights of sappiness.”

  “Good. I like it.” I stretched up and kissed him, and he returned the kiss tenderly.

  We stayed like that for a long time, curled up on the couch, holding and kissing each other. Ignacio came in maybe an hour later with the Chihuahua tucked under his arm, and blurted, “Shit, sorry, I thought you’d be done by now. I didn’t mean to barge in.”

  When our host put the dog down, he skittered across the wood floor at top speed with a clatter of toenails and leapt onto Luca. “Hey there, buddy,” Luca said, and kissed the dog on the top of his head. “You’re looking sharp in your little sweater, as usual.” I thought all of that was cute beyond words.

  “I should clear out again,” Ignacio said, “and give you two more privacy.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I told him. “This is your home, we don’t want to drive you away.”

  After some cajoling, we convinced him to stay, and the three of us ended up having dinner together. The church’s old kitchen wasn’t really functional, so Ignacio went out and soon returned with pizza and wine. Pizza in Rome was very thin, slightly charred, and all-out delicious. We ate on a blanket on the floor and drank the wine out of paper cups, and Ignacio and Luca tried to outdo each other with hilarious stories about difficult artists they’d known. I could see right away why they’d become such fast friends. Their sense of humor was very similar, and of course they shared a passion for art.