“Oh yeah, right. The wine.”
“Plus, if a newlywed couple was next door to me, I would have to share my food withtwopeople. With just us, it lasts much longer.”
“It would last longer if you weren’t sharing it with me,” I said. “If you start to run low on supplies and can’t share anymore…”
I was giving him an out in case things got bad. But he shook his head and fixed me with one of those charming, heart-melting smiles.
“No way, Feisty. The way I see it, we’re in this together now. My food is your food. Until I run out.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’llreallygo all Hannibal Lecter on your ass.”
I laughed and said, “I’ve never had someone threaten cannibalism on a date before.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced.
“What I mean is, thisfeelslike a date. On some weird reality TV show.”
“It kind of does,” he said. “Cannibalism is off the table. Noted. What do younormallydo on a second date, then?”
“It’s been so long I don’t even know! Usually just dinner I guess, although I think the last guy I dated took me to the movies on our second date…”
I trailed off as he began chuckling. That’s when I realized what he really meant. Donovan was talking aboutsex. He was casually asking how far I went on a second date with a guy.
“Oh,” I said.
He waved it off. “Wasn’t trying to get too personal. Just making a joke.”
“I don’t like to move too fast, I guess,” I said awkwardly. “I think it’s better to get to know a guy first, you know? I don’t like to sleep with a guy until, um, a while.”
“Sure. Totally,” he said.
Damnit. I didn’t mean for that to sound so prudish.I wasn’t opposed to moving fast with someone, if they were the right guy. It’s just that I’d never had the opportunity. Out of the three serious boyfriends in my life, I had only slept with two of them. Donovan probably thought I was one of those save-it-for-marriage types, which wasnotthe impression I wanted to give.
Not that it mattered, anyway. Regardless of whether or not this was a date, we couldn’t get close to each other. Not with everything going on.
Which was too bad, because if thingswerenormal I could see myself moving awfully fast with Donovan, if he took the initiative…
Donovan leaned on the railing and gazed out at the sunset to the west. I did the same. The sun had dropped below the top rim of the Colosseum, scattering orange and pink rays through the multitude of Roman arches. It was breathtaking.
“Okay, be honest with me,” Donovan suddenly said. “Yesterday, you kept walking by the gym to check me out, didn’t you?”
The question caught me off guard, and I sputtered for a moment. “I was walking around the floor. That’s all.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Five times in a row?”
“I was doing laps around the building!” I protested. “For exercise. Because unlikesome people, I respect the fact that the gym is closed.”
He looked back out at the plaza. “You walked awfully slow every time you passed the gym. I could see you in the mirror.”
“I was tired. From walking so much,” I said curtly.
He laughed, and I laughed with him. I didn’t feel embarrassed anymore, even though getting called out like that normally would have sent me fleeing into my room. Like he had said: the pandemic seemed to make all other problems and awkwardness shrink away. That and the three glasses of wine I’d had.
“What would you be doing right now?” Donovan asked, changing the subject. “If things weren’t, you know, apocalyptic.”
“Right now? Probably going to a night club in the city. Dressing up, dancing with my girlfriends, maybe flirting with exotic Italian men. Then walking back to the hotel through Rome, drunk and happy.”