Chapter 5

The walk to our next stop felt ten times different after my little tiff with Matteo. I kept my gaze straight ahead, cemented on our route and the traffic. My skin still responded to the memory of his touch at the Mouth of Truth while my brain screamed that this man was not my friend.

The incline of our walk helped. Soon I found myself at the top of a hill, looking down over the city from above. But Matteo didn’t linger and continued to an empty paved square with walls covered in shrubbery and an old-looking metal door on one side. Only one other couple lingered nearby, whispering to each other.

He went to the door and peered through a keyhole.

“Good,” he said. “It’s still clear enough to see.”

“See what?” The hole barely looked big enough to stick a finger through. If we’d made this trek and passed up an incredible view only to peek through a tiny hole in a door, he was about to hear my opinion on the matter.

“Three countries, in a manner of speaking,” he explained. “Italy, Vatican City, and the Order of the Knights of Malta. Plus a little surprise framed in the center. You may need your camera to see it well, though.” He stepped back and motioned to the door.

I bent over and peered through. At first, all I saw was two lines of hedges running into the distance, one on either side. This garden looked well tended yet unremarkable compared to some of the gardens I’d seen in Paris. By his expectant expression, there had to be something else to this.

I powered up my camera and slipped it onto the hole, peering at the screen in back. The camera moved backward as my lens protruded from the front and the view sharpened.

I gasped.

There it was—St. Peter’s right in the center, in all its glory. The hedges framed it perfectly. In the distance, the city spread behind it with a warm afternoon glow against the bright blue sky.

“Incredible,” I whispered.

“Best view in the city.”

I had to agree. Strange that my Instagram research never mentioned this. Trying to hide a deep sense of awe, I adjusted the angle of the camera and snapped a few shots. “And the Knights of . . . whatever? What does that mean?”

“One of the oldest orders in the world, established in medieval times. They spend their time in service of the sick and needy and follow the Augustinian order rather than the Benedictine like the Knights Templar did. Each member pays yearly dues to participate. They have their own sovereignty, so we leave them alone and they leave us alone.”

I turned my camera vertically to grab a few more shots, then pulled my camera away from the keyhole. “How far away do you think St. Peter’s is from here?”

I leaned forward to look again just as he did. Our cheeks brushed, mine as soft as his was rough.

“S—sorry,” I said quickly at the same time he said, “You go first.”

We stood there, awkwardly waiting for the other to move back in, and I resisted the urge to touch my face. If I’d leaned at a better—um, different angle, I would have known what his lips tasted like. Not that I wanted that.

Okay, maybe I wanted that. But I couldn’t have that as long as he wanted that. And I was pretty sure he wanted that.

His eyes flicked to my lips.

Yep. Definitely wanted that.

“I’m just going to . . . ” I began, motioning to the keyhole.

“Go ahead.” An adorable spot of red appeared on his neck.

“Gratzie,” I said, leaning forward to take one last look. When I finally pulled away, finding him watching me with a soft smile. I wondered how long he had been looking at me like that.

The couple from earlier stood behind us, clearly waiting for their turn, so we stepped aside. I leaned against the wall and slipped my camera back into its case. “Thank you for showing me this. It’s exactly the type of local secret I was hoping to see.”

“Prego. Tell me where you’d like to go next. Returning to your tourist spots for some more crowd-fighting?”

“If I said yes, would you come along?”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

Matteo and Rome were quickly becoming intertwined. I couldn’t imagine spending time in Rome without Matteo at my side. The thought was a disturbing one. Good thing we only had a few hours left. “You’ve come all this way. Might as well see it through.”

“I couldn’t ditch you now anyway. I promised to stay with you until Hunter and Kennedy returned.”

I thought hard, trying to remember our conversation at lunch. “I don’t recall any such promise.”

“That’s because I didn’t make it to you.”

I grimaced. “Kennedy and Hunter.”

“Don’t be offended. It’s an older sibling thing. I’m constantly protecting my younger sister, and it drives her crazy.”

I couldn’t hide a grin. “You have a sister?”

A note of defensiveness entered his tone. “Italians have families too. I’m not sure why you’re so surprised.”

It just hadn’t occurred to me that he lived a life so similar to mine. For the first time, I realized that I knew absolutely nothing about him and his background. He could have a girlfriend. Even a wife and kids. Hunter hadn’t said anything about either, and Matteo didn’t seem like the married type. But that meant absolutely nothing.

“Do you live with your family?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “Or is there a different situation with a . . . um, you know?”

His eyebrow lifted. “A what?”

Of course he would make me say it. “A special someone.”

“You’re asking if I have a girlfriend.”

“I’m just making conversation,” I pointed out. “And you’re making it difficult. A lot of people have significant others, you know. It’s a common topic of conversation.” And I was totally babbling now.

“Is it?” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I’ll answer your question if you let me choose where we’re going next.”

Oooh. He wanted to play that game. If the guy had a girlfriend or a wife, he wasn’t too concerned about getting back to her. That should be my answer right there. He’d spent the day flirting with me, after all. Or was it fighting? Honestly, I couldn’t tell the difference with this man. All I knew was that I couldn’t let him win whatever game we currently played.

Alexis may be the competitive one when it came to sports, but I knew my way around a relationship. The beginning of one, at least.

Dante whimpered. I’d almost forgotten he was there. Matteo patted the dog’s head and swung his backpack around to open it. “He’s probably thirsty. Give me a sec.”

I shrugged. “You know what? Keep your secrets. I’m going to check out the view over there.”

As much as I wanted to see his face, I didn’t look behind me as I strode toward the hillside we’d passed on the way in.

It was a bald-faced lie. I wanted to know the answer very much. I just didn’t want him to know it.

The overlook was empty. Buildings covered much of the valley below, a blanket of civilization with rivers cutting through that added a certain softness to the hard landscape. I simply could not get enough of this city. How could Alexis not want to experience this again and again, day after day and week after week? I could live here for months and still find new things to explore. Probably the reason they called it the eternal city.

“How am I going to see it all by tomorrow night?” I lamented when he reached me.

Matteo looked out over the city, a warmth in his eyes. “You won’t. Rome is like a new lover, full of mystery waiting to be solved.”

“So it’s an onion.”

He gave me an odd look.

“You know. Rome has layers. But you can only see the top one, and when you pull it back, then you start to see more layers. No matter how many you peel away, there are always more.” I was rambling again, so I chuckled. “Never mind. It sounded better in my head.”

He examined me for a long moment. The warmth in his eyes hadn’t faded, which made me shift under his gaze. Especially since he’d just used the word ‘lover’ to describe his city. An answer to my question, perhaps. A man tied to the home he loved and no one else. Somehow, it made him even hotter. Did he cherish his freedom as much as I did mine?

“You, Jillian Travell,” he said, “are the most fascinating onion I’ve met in a while.”

Yeah. Walked into that one, I guess. “I hope you’re referring to my many layers and not a smell issue.”

He ignored my attempt at lightness. “You have more layers than you want people to think. I just can’t figure out why you try so hard to hide them.”

It wasn’t that I tried to hide anything. I simply displayed the parts of me that I wanted everyone to see—the happy extrovert with an effortless style and a wide smile. The sister who sacrificed for the relationship. The daughter who swallowed back her pain.

The type of woman who was everything her family needed, who could never be left behind or forgotten.

I swallowed hard. “This from a man who refuses to talk about himself without a reward? Seems a little hypocritical, if you ask me.”

He paused.

I waited.

Any second now, he’d shoot back another retort and our little game would continue. This conversation would remain as surface-level as ever simply because I refused to give him more than he gave me. Which was, conveniently, nothing.

Matteo patted his dog’s head as he spoke. “Until last year, I lived with my younger sister, my grandmother, and my mother. Now I live alone. I rent the apartment above my workplace.”

Okay. Unexpected, but a good start. “So no lover besides your beautiful Rome.”

He looked away. “Not anymore.”

I lifted an eyebrow, but his lips were pressed together as if revealing even that much was painful. So I didn’t ask him to clarify that last comment.

“Where do you work?” I asked.

“A few minutes south of downtown.”

“Not where. I mean, what do you do?”

“That I’d rather not tell you yet. What I will tell you, though, is that my mother didn’t appreciate my leaving the family business. That’s why I moved out.”

He couldn’t tell me his profession, but he could tell me about his family’s drama. Except for the word “yet.” What would have to happen in order for him to trust me with that information?

“That’s crazy,” I said. “I can’t believe she kicked you out over that.”

“Actually, I left. Now you know nearly as much about me as I know about you. Since you have a habit of withholding your feelings, at least with your sisters, I withdraw my earlier offer of surprising you again. You get to choose where we go next. No more dragging you around the city against your will.”

My finger itched to grab my phone and pull up the list, but for the first time, the thought of crowds making it difficult to talk made me pause. “Where were you going to take me before?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

He paused. “My favorite bridge. It isn’t far.” He laughed at my sour expression. “Clearly you haven’t been in Rome long enough to appreciate our bridges. But again, we’ll see whatever you want.”

Exploring Matteo’s favorite places across the city seemed far more fascinating than my generic list that everyone followed. I had an actual local guide, something few tourists got to experience. The fact that his cheek was slightly rough and his breath smelled like mint was a bonus.

“You haven’t steered me wrong yet,” I said casually. “I guess we can spare a few minutes to see this bridge of yours.”