Farrah Rochon - Hot Christmas Nights - Tuscan Nights / Christmas Tango / Tied Up in Tinsel

She knew they would eventually have to confront it. Maybe.

It would be idyllic if they could spend the next two days as they had done back when they were just two friends enjoying time together. Aiden would go back to Zurich, she would return to her quaint apartment in San Gimignano and they would stay in touch via Facebook, this time with memories of the Christmas they shared in Rome.

But, as she knew all too well, the ideal rarely happened.

Sooner or later, she would have to confront her past mistakes. If not over the next few days, then when she left San Gimignano, which looked as if it would be even sooner than she’d anticipated.

Nyla hunched her shoulder. “I guess there isn’t much choice. It’s much too late to try to find a hotel room.”

“Neither does it make sense for you to look for one,” Aiden said. “I’m pretty sure the room has two beds if it makes you feel any better.”

Just the mention of beds made her stomach flutter; she felt like a teenage virgin preparing to spend the night with her high-school sweetheart.

Nyla mentally rolled her eyes. She was neither a teenager nor a virgin, and at five years his senior she had already been out of high school before Aiden even entered. It was time for her to face this like the adult she was.

“Come on,” she said, starting for the rental car. “It’s already late and if you’re going to see Rome in a day and a half, we’ll have to get started early in the morning.”

As they headed for the hotel, Nyla took in the charming lights and holiday decorations draped along the buildings. Because Italy’s national colors were red, white and green, many of the businesses really played it up during Christmastime. She truly loved this city, with its rich history and many legends that Aiden was so fond of teasing her about.

Maybe when Murano kicked her out of her apartment next month, she could move in with Else and look for a forno here in Rome.

Get a grip .

The likelihood of finding an available storefront was minimal at best, and the probability that she would be able to afford it was zilch. Besides, those euros she’d managed to save over the past couple of years would stretch much further in the United States than they would in Europe.

The Hotel Villa delle Rose was within walking distance of Termini Station, the transportation hub that would take them just about anywhere they wanted to go in the city. They checked into the hotel and went up to the room, which thankfully did have two beds.

“Are you hungry?” Nyla asked. “It’ll probably be a chore to find something opened this late, but I’m starving.”

“Let me take a guess...no McDonald’s?”

“You’re in Italy, Aiden! There will be no Big Macs while you’re here with me.”

They found a small trattoria a couple of blocks down from the hotel. Just as they walked up to the door, a hand appeared from behind a curtain and turned the open sign to closed. Nyla thumped on the door until a balding man who was nearly as wide as he was tall appeared.

She explained their plight in Italian, describing their drive down from Siena in the cold and snow. After a few minutes of listening to her whine, the trattoria owner agreed to whip up a quick carbonara and pack it in takeout containers. Nyla grabbed two bottles of chinotto, the bittersweet citrus soda popular among Italians.

She knocked Aiden’s hand out of the way when he tried to hand over his credit card.

“Hey!”

“You’re paying for the hotel. The least I can do is pay for the meal.”

“Are you forgetting that the only reason you’re here is that I begged you to come? You shouldn’t have to pay for anything.”

Nyla put a hand up. She wasn’t arguing with him.

It was after 10:00 p.m. by the time they arrived back to their room. She sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the bed, balancing the aluminum container in her lap. Aiden butted his back against the headboard, his feet crossed at the ankles out in front of him.

They were just two friends having dinner in the hotel room they would share for the next two nights. She could handle this.

God, please let me be able to handle this.

“Give me a list of what you want to see tomorrow,” she said as she twirled fettuccini around her plastic fork. “Other than the Colosseum.”

Aiden shrugged. “The normal sites, I guess. The Forum, the Vatican. According to the website, the Vatican will be open for touring up until Christmas Day.”

“Most of the touristy spots should be,” she said.

“Well, call me a typical tourist, but I’m excited to see all the places I’ve seen on TV and in the history books.”

“I was the same way the first time I visited.” She tapped her fork against her lips. “Come to think of it, I’m still that way. There’s so much to see and do in this city, and to be here at Christmastime, and with snow? You are one lucky man, Aiden Williams.”

His steady gaze caught her eyes and held them. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

It took some effort to tear her eyes away from his. Nyla pulled in a shaky breath.

“I, uh, I do have a couple of places that are off the beaten path that I think you’ll enjoy,” she said. “If we have time we should check them out.”

“We should make them a priority,” he said in that same low voice. “If you think I’ll enjoy them, then I know I will, seeing as you know me as well as just about anyone.”

Nyla tilted her head to the side, considering his words. “Why is that?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her. She decided to press him on it.

“You once told me that you were always home studying because you didn’t like opening up to people, but you always seemed to open up to me. Why?”

After several moments passed, he finally said, “You made it easy.”

He set his food on the nightstand between the beds and folded his hands over his flat stomach.

“You never treated me like I was weird just because I preferred looking through a telescope instead of watching a basketball game or doing other things that ‘regular guys’ did. You got me. You understood me better than my own family did.” He looked up at her and, with a grim smile, said, “You can probably do without my poor, neglected son monologue.”

A sad smile formed on her lips. “It couldn’t have been easy living in Cameron’s huge shadow.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Nyla wasn’t fooled by his nonchalance. She’d observed early on how differently Aiden was treated from his older brother.

“I love Lynda and Russell, but I could tell from early on that they had crowned Cameron the golden boy. I’m smack in the middle of five kids, so I know about having to grab whatever attention you can, but with it being just you two boys, it’s so obvious. Having them dote on him the way they do must be hard for you.”

“I’m used to it,” he said with another lift of his shoulders. “My earliest memories are of spending countless hours at Cameron’s elementary-school basketball practices. The focus of the Williams family has always been about nurturing Cameron’s talent and his career.”

“Even though his career only lasted a few years,” Nyla said.

By the time she and Cameron started dating, his NBA career had already been cut short by injury. He’d transitioned to the business side of things, working as a scout for Atlanta’s professional basketball team, where she’d worked as a senior account executive in the corporate ticket sales department. Even though he was no longer on the court, Cameron’s larger-than-life personality kept him in the spotlight.

The shadow he continued to cast was far and wide, leaving very little light to shine on all Aiden had achieved in college and graduate school. His tolerance of his family’s disregard of his many accomplishments made him that much more extraordinary in Nyla’s eyes.