All I Want Series Boxset, Books 1-3: All I Want for Christmas, All I Want for Valentine's, All I Want for Spring (33 page)

Tori flashed Holly a wicked grin. “If I tell you all my secrets now, how do I surprise you in the future?” she asked. “Besides, if I turn out to be the female Christian Grey, you get a car, loads of cash and flown wherever you want in a private helicopter, so it’s not all bad. I know
I’d
consider it.”

Holly frowned. “You’ve read
50 Shades
?”

Tori shook her head. “Seen the film.”

“When did you see the film? Next you’ll be telling me you’re planning on camping out to see the sequel.” Holly sat up, rubbing her face with her palms. “Tell me you’re not planning to do that…”

Tori laughed at her girlfriend. “I know you like serious movies,” she said, wrapping the words ‘serious movies’ in finger quotes, “and documentaries, but excuse me for liking chick flicks. I just do, you know that. I love romance, and I love everything about it.”

“Even straight romance?” Holly wrinkled her nose like she’d just smelt some particularly ripe Stilton.

“Yes, all romance! Honestly, you are so judgey sometimes. I love romance, I love schmaltz, and I watched it over at Trudi’s house — she’s got some way of downloading all this stuff for free. And yes, Trudi’s already on the case for the sequel, so don’t worry, I won’t be camping out. I’ll be sitting on Trudi’s couch, drinking red wine and squealing at the red room.”

Holly shook her head, then slumped forward again. “Sometimes, I can’t believe I love you.” 

“What was that?” Tori asked, even though she’d heard it perfectly the first time. She loved it when Holly said those three words, even when she was in a grump like this morning. It was still fresh enough to be novel, still gave her a thrill
every
time, even after three months.

Holly loved her: the hairs on her arm stood on end as she thought it.
Yep, the rush was still there.

Tori reached out and ran her hand up the back of Holly’s neck, her short hair soft to the touch. The nape of Holly’s neck was a favourite spot for both of them.

Holly wriggled her shoulders on contact.

“What was that you said?” Tori repeated. “You’re going to have to speak up so the whole carriage can hear.”

She waited for Holly to react. Three, two, one…

Holly lifted her head and gave her girlfriend a look. “You do realise 6.30am is far too early for humour, don’t you?”

“You know, there were even
earlier
planes — ours doesn’t take off till nine. And you accuse
me
of being dramatic.”

“You
are
dramatic. Usually the most dramatic of all. So I’m allowed to assume the mantle every now and again.”

Tori reached over and grabbed Holly’s pale white cheek, giving it a squeeze. Her eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, but her hair was styled to perfection. It might be early, but some things in Holly’s regime were non-negotiable. No matter what, if they were out of the house, she could count on Holly’s hair and clothing being immaculate.

“You are, babe,” she replied. “Now go back to sleep and I’ll wake you at Gatwick.”

Holly harrumphed, but settled her head in the crook of her elbow and closed her eyes.

Tori sat back, glancing around the carriage. She opened her bag, checking her passport was still there. It was.

Opposite them, two more travellers in their 20s had rucksacks stuffed under their table, and were also slumped forward in protest at such an early start. Behind them, suitcases rattled on the luggage rack, ready and waiting to transport their owners to other parts of the globe.

Tori loved everything about travel — she loved the journey as much as the holiday. Trains held adventure, airports were gateways to your dreams, road trips were ripe with romance and drama. Having put up with Holly this morning, she was beginning to see her girlfriend didn’t think that way. Despite being friends since the age of eleven, they’d never been away together on anything more than trips within the UK, never anything that had involved planes and an early morning start. So far, she’d learned that waking Holly up early didn’t produce the best results.

And now they were off to Rome, the Eternal City, and Tori couldn’t wait. She’d always wanted to go, but her ex, Anna, had been too many times, so refused to go again. Luckily, Holly hadn’t been, so they were going to experience it together, for the first time, and Tori had spent the last week scouring the guidebook, which was currently nestled in her backpack. She’d mapped out a plan to see as much of the city as she could in the four days they had, but she hoped Holly perked up soon. Otherwise, she might be forced to clout her over the head with said guidebook.

They’d been waiting to get away on this trip since the start of the year, and Tori was determined to make the most of every second.

CHAPTER 2

It was a full flight, with everyone jockeying for space to fit their suitcases into the overhead lockers. Luckily, the one above Tori and Holly’s seat still had room. Tori sat by the window, her face overflowing with excitement, while Holly stowed her suitcase before sitting next to her with a thud. Holly willed the seat beside her to stay free, so she could spread out on the flight. Her wish did not come true.

However, the woman who did sit down twigged Holly’s gaydar in a major way. Holly knew the signs: hands in pockets, short fingernails, a certain
lesbian air
. The woman had long, dark hair as glossy as wet varnish, was about their age — late 20s — and smelt of confidence. Plus, she was so slim, she probably existed on a diet of dust and alfalfa sprouts.

If someone had to sit next to Holly for the entire journey, it could have been a lot worse.

The woman smiled as she sat down, before getting out a copy of that morning’s Metro and turning directly to the crossword. She reached into her handbag and produced an expensive shiny silver pen, then settled back into her seat.

Holly nudged Tori with her shoulder, before angling her head subtly towards the woman.

Tori, attuned to Holly’s non-verbal signals after years of friendship, turned her head so she could see. When she clocked the woman, she turned to Holly and smiled.

“She’s family, right?” Holly’s voice was at a low whisper.

Tori nodded in reply, her expression telling Holly she was in no doubt the woman played for their team.

“Course, look at the chunky watch,” Tori whispered, nodding towards it.  

Of course, the chunky watch.
Another dead giveaway.

Holly dozed through the safety demonstration and take off, waking up when a new smell hit her nose: curry. She wrinkled her nose. It was definitely too early for curry, wasn’t it?

Still, within half an hour the air was filled with competing sounds and smells, including bacon sandwiches, body odour and crying children. Holly gave up trying to sleep and instead glanced over at her neighbour, who was still doing her crossword. Holly read a few clues, before extending her finger and pointing at four down.

“Southampton,” she told the woman. “Four down is Southampton — they play at St Mary’s. I’m a Saints fan.”

The woman counted out the letters, then filled in the squares, before giving Holly a smile.

“Thanks, I would never have got that, football isn’t my strong point.” She held out a hand to Holly. “I’m Cara, by the way.”

Holly shook her slim, manicured hand. “Holly,” she said, before leaning back. “And this is my girlfriend, Tori.”

Tori leaned across and shook hands with Cara, all three smiling at each other, sizing each other up.

“What are the chances — three lesbians all on one row?” Cara said.

So Holly’s gaydar had been right. She was always inordinately pleased when it was.

“We’re taking over the world,” Tori replied with a smile.

“Looks like it,” Cara said.

There was a pause in the conversation.

Cara clicked her pen on, then off. On, then off.

“Is this your first time in Rome?” Holly asked.

Cara shook her head. “Nope — my dad’s Italian, and I’ve got some friends who live there, so I go a couple of times a year. I love it, it’s my favourite European city. How about you?”

Holly shook her head. “We’re Rome virgins, ready to pop our cherry.” And then her cheeks coloured as she heard the words escape her mouth. Sometimes, she needed a filter before she spoke. She didn’t want to look at Tori as she knew the face she’d be making.

Cara raised an eyebrow in her direction. “I’m sure Rome will be gentle with you,” she replied, pulling down one sleeve of her navy blazer. “That is, if you want it to be.”

Holly swallowed down, her throat suddenly dry. She wasn’t quite sure why, but Cara made her nervous — and that comment had done nothing to dispel her fears.

Then Cara wrinkled her forehead and clicked her fingers together. “We should meet up at this gay bar I know, it’s really near the Colosseum. We could have drinks and there are a couple of really good clubs nearby, too.” She paused, before waving a hand through the air, dismissing the idea as quickly as she’d suggested it. “But only if you’re up for it. Don’t let me gatecrash any romantic plans you had.”

The question hung in the air for a couple of seconds.

Holly opened her mouth first. “Well, actually—” she began.

“—We’d be up for that, wouldn’t we?” Tori said, raising a slight eyebrow at Holly before turning her attention back to Cara. “It’d be great to go with someone who knows the area. I’ve studied the guidebook, but you’re never sure what to trust when it comes to gay stuff, are you? If you know the real Rome, that’d be ace.”

Holly didn’t want to be a party pooper, so she nodded her head. “Absolutely,” she said.

But in her head, she was screaming, “I had romantic plans!” And she did, even though she was petrified of them, because for Holly, holidays with girlfriends always ended in disaster with a capital D. But this time, she was determined to buck the trend, to show Tori her romantic side. Tori was all about romance, so for this trip, romance was going to be Holly’s middle name. She was going to be gallant, suave, irresistible. She was going to show Tori a fabulous time, and make Rome the holiday she’d never forget.

Still, she supposed they could spare an hour to meet up with Cara and her friends if it meant seeing the
real
Rome.

Cara grinned. “Excellent,” she said. And then she laid a hand on Holly’s arm, as if confirming their date.

Holly flinched ever so slightly, but if Cara noticed, she didn’t remove her hand for a few seconds. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a small notepad.

“I could tap it into your phone, but I’m old-fashioned about these things,” she said, holding up her pad. “I’m a journalist, so I always have a pad and pen handy.”

She scribbled the address of the bar onto a piece of paper, ripped it out and gave it to Holly. “We’ll be there from around 10pm tomorrow night — Friday. Come along if you fancy it, would be great to see you. But no pressure if not. If you don’t turn up, I’ll know you’ve had a better offer.”

Holly glanced at Tori, who had a grin set on her face.

“We’ll see you there,” Tori said.

CHAPTER 3

They’d snagged a top floor apartment on Airbnb for a bargain price, but like many old European buildings, it had no lift.

“Just think of the views,” Holly said as they tramped up the wide concrete steps to the fifth floor, past huge wooden front doors on every level. If those doors were anything to go by, the scale and size of these flats made theirs in London look tiny.

“Is it this one?” Holly asked a few moments later, waiting for Tori to climb the last few steps, the door keys dangling from her slim fingers. They’d picked them up from a gelato shop down the road as instructed.

“Yep, number 13.” Tori paused. “Some buildings leave out the number 13 when it comes to flats, to avoid bad luck. That, and the 13th floor.” Tori unlocked the thick black wooden door and pushed it with her shoulder, before coming back to retrieve her case.

“I’m not superstitious,” Holly replied. “I walked under a ladder on Monday and I’m still alive. I defy the odds daily.”

“You’re my hero,” Tori said, offering her lips to Holly.

Holly leaned down and kissed her. She was more than happy to be Tori’s hero.

The flat was exactly as it appeared on Airbnb, albeit smaller, the owners having used tricks with mirrors to maximise the impact online. It smelt of furniture polish and coffee, a very Italian aroma. They entered a small hallway and ahead of them was the living room with a rugged red sofa and mirrors along the back wall. Off the lounge was a balcony and small kitchen, replete with ornate taps and cupboards that looked like they were last replaced around the beginning of the 1900s.

“Rustic.” Holly opened a distressed cupboard and it creaked, showing it was distressed in more ways than one.

“Keeping it real,” Tori replied. “We did agree we could live without a modern kitchen for the price, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Holly said, stepping onto the narrow balcony, large enough for a table and two chairs, which were set up to the right of the door. The balcony overlooked the rooftops of Rome, and Holly couldn’t help a smile spreading across her features as she lit up to the view. She lifted her head to the cobalt blue sky and took a huge gulp of air. “Besides, this balcony is where we’re going to spend most of our time. Come and have a look at the view.”

Tori joined her and Holly snaked an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

Tori gasped as she took it in. “Wow — this is way more impressive in real life than in the pictures.” Tori settled her elbows on the concrete edge which came up to her waist.

To their left on the balcony was a small garden of flowerpots, all in their springtime bloom. Ahead of them stood a mosaic of slated, angled terracotta roofs and weather-stained chimneys all jostling for position, and in the distance, statuesque domes and muscular buildings sweltered in the afternoon haze.