Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
S eptember 4 th
Let’s do this. I’m going to tourist the hell out of today. Maybe one of the gelato shops will have a sexy man scooping out gelato in need of an American to help come up with a new gelato flavor to win a competition or something. Or maybe he’ll just want sex. That’s good too. Skip the plot and get right to the heart of the matter—or would it be right to the dick of the matter? Either way, I get gelato so it’s a win.
Paige snapped a picture with an incredibly good-looking police officer outside the Colosseum and sent it to her book club. Her feet were killing her. She’d walked over twenty thousand steps and she was so happy she couldn’t stop smiling. Food. Sites. Hot men. History. It was amazing, and it wasn’t just the Aperol spritz talking.
Tomorrow she was going to spend the day shopping and then she was headed home. But first, dinner on a rooftop bar overlooking Rome. Paige had been nervous about eating at places by herself, but there was so much to look at that dinner flew by as she watched the sun set. It was finally dark, and after she finished her third spritz, she was ready to walk to the Trevi Fountain.
Paige made her way around the tourists, by the people sitting at outdoor cafés having dinner, over the people selling things on the cobbled streets, and finally to the Trevi Fountain. It was stunning. It was beautiful. It was packed. She was shoulder to shoulder with a thousand other people trying to see the fountain. However, Paige was a New Yorker. She could make her way through any crowd. It didn’t take long to find herself right up front.
Paige took out a euro and her phone. She filmed herself throwing it over her shoulder and making her wish. A wish that after her adventures she’d not only find herself, but she’d find love. She turned around and took it all in. The fountain, the romance of it all, the couples kissing around her, and the kids running. There was no place like Rome.
Paige took her time exploring the area around the fountain before heading back to her hotel. Only . . . she wasn’t tired. Even after a nonstop day of walking and sightseeing, she wasn’t ready to go back to the hotel. She wanted to live every moment she had in Rome. There was a beautiful piazza near her hotel. She’d go there and have a drink and maybe hit up a nightclub.
One street over from the Trevi Fountain, the crowd had thinned. Paige walked, thinking she was heading toward the plaza near her hotel. Only, there weren’t many tourists, and she might have headed the wrong way.
Paige pulled up her map on her phone and groaned. She had gone the wrong way. However, when she looked up to see the best way to go, a row of motorcycles caught her eye near the end of the block. No way. Fate was certainly a woman. Italian bikers?! Si, per favore!
Paige found them before she even made it to the first bike. There was a bar filled with men. Sexy Italian men with clean-shaven faces and some with sexy scruff, tight pants, and chiseled bodies. Holy page turner, was this a biker gang or an ad campaign for men’s cologne? Some men were in leather. Some were in suits. Some were in tight jeans that left nothing to the imagination. Some looked as if they belonged in Italian Vogue while others looked as if they were a walking bad boy wet dream while others filled that businessman trope perfectly.
A man who filled the bad boy trope to near perfection with jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and several tattoos up his arm approached her. He asked her something, but she didn’t know what. She couldn’t understand Italian and she was staring at his melting brown eyes and kind of forgot to listen to him.
“Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”
“Ah, you’re a tourist. I take it you are lost.”
Paige moved her eyes down to very kissable lips. “No, I’m not lost. I’m exactly where I should be.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a sexy smirk. “In a bike bar? Do you have a bike?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to ride on one. How about we get a drink and you tell me about yours?” Paige was so proud of herself for being daring. But then she thought maybe she was being stupid. “Unless it’s not safe for me here?”
“Ah, bella , you’re safe with me.” He put his arm around her and walked her into the bar. “I’m Adriano.”
“Paige.”
Adriano escorted her to a small table in the corner of the bar. “I’ll be right back with some vino , Paige.”
“Thank you.” Paige looked around the bar. It was exactly as it was in books. It was dark. The bar top was long and worn. It was testosterone-filled and exactly what she was looking for—that and the sexy Italian men filling it. Everything except she wasn’t really expecting the wine. She was expecting cheap beer. Italian bikers must be more sophisticated than American bikers.
“Here you go. It’s the house red.” Andriano handed her a glass of red wine and took a seat next to her. His thigh pressed against hers and while there was plenty of room, he put his arm across the back of the booth so that she fit snuggly against him. “So, you liked our bikes? You don’t see many of them in America?”
“Well, yes, I see some. But I don’t know much about them. Tell me about yours,” Paige asked, taking a sip of the house red, which was amazing and somehow cheaper than a bottle of water.
“I just got a new one. It’s electric and it has a pick-up that flings you back in the seat if you’re not hanging on. It’s absolutely silent so there’s no acoustic pollution,” Andriano told her.
Paige frowned. “That’s great for the environment and to save on gas, but I thought bikers liked the sound of the rev of the engine?”
“We definitely do. I have a classic 1956 I’m fixing up. But most of us have now gone electric for our everyday rides. We bring out the big guns for special weekend rides.”
“Oh, that’s neat. So, you all are like, a club and ride together?” Paige kept her fingers crossed. She’s literally just stumbled into a real-life motorcycle club book.
Andriano ran his hand through his wavy dark brown hair and smiled at her. “Yeah, we’re like a club. We work together. We’re riding tonight over to our favorite nightclub. Want to join us?”
“I’d love to. Tell me more about the club.”
“We gather here for drinks after dinner and then hit up clubs. On weekends, we have rides to places where events or big parties are being held.” Andriano moved his hand to cup her shoulder.
Paige set down her glass of wine when his finger touched her chin, gently turning her head to face him. “You’ll look beautiful riding . . . my bike, bella .”
Paige knew he was going to kiss her and she was here for it. Andriano lowered his head but before his lips could meet hers, someone let out a sharp whistle and shouted something in Italian.
Andriano’s lips curved up into a smile. “It’s time to ride, bella .”
Andriano slipped from behind the table and held out his hand for her. Paige was excited and nervous at the same time. She was doing something that was very stupid in real life—she was going off with a stranger. However, real life seemed so far away when in Rome.
Guys poured from the bar and out onto the street. “Ready to be part of the club?” Andriano asked.
“More than ready.” Paige looked down the street a short way to the line of motorcycles. They were sleeker than the big hogs she’d seen back home. Only, they weren’t walking toward the motorcycles. They were crossing the street.
“There she is. Isn’t she beautiful?” Andriano asked, pointing to the opposite side of the street from the motorcycles. Paige cocked her head and then watched in disbelief as the guys all mounted up. “Not as beautiful as you, though.”
“You mean the turquoise scooter?” Paige asked dubiously as Andriano pulled her over to the scooter.
He handed her a matching helmet and flung his leg over the seat. “Hop on.”
“What’s on the handle bars?” she asked him. The quilted mitts looked like what she used to pull something hot from the oven.
“Those are my muffs. They keep my hands warm when we fly down the streets.”
Someone gave an order in Italian and everyone turned on their bikes. Then they all high-fived each other when there was no sound at all. None. It was as if they were on toy scooters with no engines. Before she could ask if they were serious, Andriano pulled her onto the scooter and they took off.
She clung to him for dear life, but it wasn’t from the thrill of the ride. It was from the normal life or death feeling of driving in Rome. That, and she was pretty sure she was going to throw up her insides as they bounced along the uneven road.
Thankfully they didn’t have to go far. They circled a building with thumping music coming out of it and then parked all in a row. They high-fived each other again when they got off their scooters. This was not like any motorcycle club she’d ever read about.
Andriano grabbed her hand and she was pulled past the line of people waiting to get into the club. “We get in free since they like having us here. We bring in a lot of people.” Somehow, she didn’t think it was for their scooters. They probably were models. Women were definitely eyeing them. “This is our area,” Andriano told her, escorting her to a standing table. “Want a spritz?”
“Sure, thank you.” Paige looked around the club. Okay, it was nice. Not as nice as WET Roma, but she didn’t have the pull to get in there. Lights were flashing, people were dancing, the music was thumping, and the drinks were flowing. A VIP lounge was above them with heavy security so she couldn’t see the setup, but she saw the bottle service train headed that way. The VIP area had a view of the whole place and she was sure it was similar to the one at WET with private seating areas and a viewing rail.
Women were approaching the “bikers” and Paige’s mouth dropped open in surprise when the women began handing stacks of Euros to the men for dances. Dances that looked incredibly erotic. Dances that involved tongues down throats. What was going on?
“Here you go, bella .” Paige took the drink and absently thanked Andriano. “Ah,” Andriano said, pulling her close to him, “I see you’re ready to dance . It’s five hundred euros, but I always allow a free sample.”
Andriano’s lips met hers right when she first realized what he meant. The second realization was that for five hundred euros, he should be able to kiss better than that. There was definite slobber to go with his limp lips and slobber wasn’t ever sexy.
Paige pulled back from the kiss. “No! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize what you are. I don’t want that.”
Andriano’s easy-going look shifted in an instant. “You’re costing me money. Nothing is free. Now pay up for my time. A hundred euros and get lost. You wouldn’t have even been allowed into this club without me escorting you in.”
Paige was shocked. “I’m not paying you. Sorry, a bumpy ride and a sloppy kiss isn’t worth a hundred euros.”
Andriano’s face turned to one of fury. “Did you just insult my bike?”
“You mean your scooter ? It’s cute.”
Andriano advanced angrily and Paige suddenly realized she was in trouble. She backed up until she ran into the wall behind her. Andriano grabbed for her purse and she was hanging on to it for dear life when suddenly Andriano was no longer standing there.