I want to laugh. I can’t get up on his shoulders. I might be short, but I’m heavy. I will break his back. Not to mention, the people behind us will probably get mad.
I look over my shoulder. Then again, the couple behind us is making out and not paying attention to the show at all.
“I…” I say. Wanting to say yes, needing to say no.
Before I can complete my sentence, he squats down low, like impressively low (those quads are beasts), and pulls me around so I have to get on his back like we’re playing leapfrog, my legs around his neck.
His hands take a firm grasp on my thighs, his forearms pressing my calves against his chest. “Hold on,” he says.
I immediately grab hold of his hair, though that’s probably not what he meant, and he straightens back up, slowly. He does it with so much ease, it’s like I’m not on his back at all. Meanwhile I’m not making it any easier with my wavering back and trying to get a grip on his head.
“Sorry, sorry,” I tell him.
“Don’t be,” he says. “I like it when you pull my hair.”
Oh lord.
And now I’m suddenly very conscious that his head is between my thighs. Backwards from the way I’ve dreamed about, but still. He better do nothing to turn me on.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I squeak. I glance down at Vanni who is shaking his head in disapproval.
I do have an amazing view of the concert, but angry Italian gibberish from behind me grabs my attention.
I turn and the making out couple have ceased their tangled tongues and are giving me a dirty look.
“One song,” I tell them, trying to think what that is in Italian. “Una sonata.”
“Canzone,” Claudio whispers, correcting me.
“Una Canzone,” I tell the couple. “Per favore.”
The couple shrugs and goes back to making out.
“Very good, Grace,” Claudio murmurs.
He begins to stroke his thumb against my thigh, his rough skin against mine, making my veins course with heat.
Yeah, so much for not being turned on.
What is he doing?
Just shut up and enjoy it.
So I listen to that voice. While Claudio rubs his thumb along my skin, back and forth, over and over, I wind my fingers into his hair. It’s very thick and strong and soft, and I can feel him relaxing beneath me. Every now and then I give it a playful tug, hoping he’s as turned on as I am.
But eventually the song comes to an end.
It’s time for me to come down.
And Vanni says, “Papà, I need to use the toilet.”
“Okay,” Claudio says, grabbing his son’s hand while gripping my leg tighter with the other. “Hold on, Grace.”
“Wait!” I cry out, my nails digging into his head as he starts to walk through the crowd with me on his back. “Put me down!”
But I’m drunk and I’m giggling.
I feel like I’m in a circus, riding an elephant, but in fact it’s just a stupendously talented and handsome man, and I’m up here on display. I start waving to people, waving to the band, who are paying me no attention, of course.
I can’t stop smiling.
By the time we reach the line of porta loos on the side of the field, I’m laughing hard, having a tough time staying upright.
As Vanni goes off into one of them, Claudio starts to stumble.
I shriek, still laughing, and he goes down on his knees.
“Ahhhh!” I wrap my hands around his face, blinding him, and pitch forward until my shoulder hits the grass.
The impact is soft, and I roll over onto my back, my hands clasped over my stomach, knees up, and I am laughing so hard that I think my ribs might give out.
Claudio is laughing too, a big and boisterous laugh that only fuels mine.
He grabs my legs as he crawls over to me, leaning over.
“Mio Dio,” he says, chuckling. “Are you okay?”
I look up to see him looking down at me, hand at my face.
I can only grin at him, nodding. The stars are shining in the sky beyond him, one insanely bright star right behind his head, and my eyes keep going in focus between his face and the starlight.
Both are insanely beautiful.
“I am sorry about the crash landing,” he says, his hand still at my cheek. “I tried very hard to make it gentle.”
I bite back my innuendo.
“I imagine that’s what riding a camel is like,” I say through a laugh.
“Yes, but I would hope I’m less smelly and hairy.”