Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) (11 page)

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” Jesus, I really do want to walk her home. I smile at her, taking her hand in mine. “Come on, I’ll clean up the rest in the morning. I have the opening shift.”

She laughs, lacing her fingers through mine. Her skin is soft and delicate, exactly how I’d imagine a ballerina’s skin to feel. I wonder how her skin would feel if I ran my hands up the length of her body? Smooth, warm, soft. Would she shiver in anticipation? Would a moan fall from her lips?

“How are your classes going?” I ask instead, mainly to distract myself from my own thoughts.

“Pretty good. My favorite is definitely the Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch course. The professor is really animated and makes classes interesting. We have a partner project…” she looks up at me rolling her eyes “…but otherwise, I’m enjoying the readings. And the project isn’t terrible, even though my partner is in Scotland this weekend.”

I laugh. “What? You don’t like group projects? Those are the best; more collaboration, less actual work.”

She squeezes my hand. “I hate group projects. I hate relying on other people to do something that my name is going on. I’d rather just do it all myself and know that whatever grade I get, I earned. Whether it’s good or bad.”

“I’m sure you only get good grades though.” I squeeze back.

She blushes and shrugs.

“I would have loved to be in your group when I was in school.”

She laughs again. “I probably would have hated being partnered with you.”

“Yeah. You would have.”

“I’m up this way.” She tugs my hand, leading me up a narrow side street. Within two minutes, we come to a stop before a big green door. “This is me.”

I look up at the building. It’s old but charming and beautiful in its own way. Classically Roman. It’s the kind of apartment American exchange students dream of living in, and I’m glad she’s having this experience, having this time to explore something new, do something outside her strict routine and overbearing schedule.

When I look back at Mia, she’s studying me. Her eyes are dark, serious, and she inhales shakily as I tuck an errant piece of hair behind her left ear. I shuffle toward her and she smiles shyly, but I can tell she’s nervous. She’s probably wondering what I’m going to do.

I know girls. I’ve been with more than I can count. Plus, I live with Claudia. Claudia and her friends discuss every minute detail of an encounter with a guy they like: Is it a date? Will he kiss me? Do I want him to? Will I be disappointed if he doesn’t? What does that mean?

It’s ridiculous and annoying ninety-nine percent of the time, but in this moment I’m a bit grateful toward my sister and her posse because I can tell all of these thoughts are racing through Mia’s mind as her chocolate eyes widen and she licks her bottom lip.

I tug her toward me and place my hand along the soft curve of her cheek. I stare right into her eyes and smile lazily before dipping my head and capturing her sweet lips with my own. I kiss her softly, once, twice, and then I lace my fingers through her hair and pull her closer. She opens up to me and responds, her tongue meeting mine. And damn if the tiny moan she makes isn’t the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. And I’ve never heard a moan before from a first kiss, but the sweet innocence of Mia has me reacting even more. I want this girl more than I want my next breath. And that is a scary fucking thought.

I let the kiss linger for a few more moments before stepping back. My hand falls to her shoulder, and I push her hair back from her face.

“Thanks for tonight. I’ll see you soon,” I tell her, trying to be casual, nonchalant, but my blood is pounding in my ears … and in other places. She’s affects me too strongly.

She squints at me for a moment, a hazy confusion clouding her eyes before she nods. “Yeah. Thank you. For tonight.”

I lean closer and kiss her once more on the mouth. “Buona notte, bellezza.” Then, I turn and leave her standing in front of the green door. I can feel her eyes trained on the center of my back.

I’ve got her.

Chapter Twenty

Mia

“You kissed him? What kind of kiss are we talking here?” Emma’s face flashes across my computer screen. Her eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open. For once in her life, I think she’s speechless. Yay me! Although, I feel slightly guilty for not telling Maura first. I really needed an excited reaction and Emma always delivers.

“I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.”

“But you kissed him back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And …”

“It was amazing. His lips were like fire. I’ve never been kissed like that before. It’s like he was … I don’t know, all consuming or something,” I stutter, covering my eyes with one hand to hide my embarrassment.

Emma laughs loudly. “Oh my God! I am so freaking proud of you, Mia. Hallelujah! Who thought Rome would already have such a positive impact on you? You have to tell Lila. She’s going to die.”

“No, wait. Don’t tell anyone yet. I’m not even sure what’s actually happening here. After he kissed me, he … I don’t know … he like stepped back and was like ‘I’ll see you soon.’ What does that even mean? Like ‘I’ll-see-you-again-and-we’ll-make-out’ or ‘I’ll-catch-you-the-next-time-you-come-eat-at-my-family-restaurant?’ Ah! Do you think I ruined my study spot and now I have to find a new place to have caffé lattes and read Dante?” I didn’t even think of the repercussions. What if I have to find a new place to do my homework?

“Relax. It’s fine. You definitely don’t have to find a new study spot. Just see what happens. Go to the restaurant, be your normal self, don’t act weird, and just see where everything between the two of you leads.”

“Me, normal?” I say. “I’m freaking out here.”

Emma sighs. “I know, but this is a good thing, Mia. You made out with a hot Italiano after dancing the night away with a different hot Italiano. Just embrace it and have fun. You said you wanted to do this study abroad because of how much your mom wanted you to travel, enjoy life, have experiences. So go, enjoy, make out, have fun! Don’t complicate it by overthinking and overanalyzing. You made out with a hot guy. Awesome Saturday night. Done.”

“You’re right.”

“So when will you go back to the restaurant?”

I sigh. “I should wait at least a day, right?”

“Yeah.” She nods in agreement. “At least.”

“I hate games.” I huff, momentarily miserable at the thought of having to try and figure out how to let the situation between Lorenzo and I naturally unfold. If it’s natural, I shouldn’t have to plan it.

“What? They’re the best!” Emma gushes, fixing her bangs in the camera. “Just enjoy it. You’re not going to be in Rome forever; it’s only for four months. And you’re almost one month down. Take it one day at a time.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I know, I know, easier said than done.” Emma holds her hands up in surrender.

I laugh. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

“Embrace it.” She smiles.

“What’s new by you?”

“Nothing really. Going to brunch with my new roomies tomorrow.”

“What? You’re cheating on us!”

She chuckles. “Shh, don’t tell the other girls. It will be fun though. A nice chance for all of us to catch up on our week. I barely see my roommates with how busy I am here.”

I smile. “Knowing you, that sounds about right.” Emma is always super involved. In everything.

“Anyway, love, I’ve got to go. I’m so glad to see your sunny face and hear about how you’re killing it in Roma. Keep me posted on Lorenzo deets. And make sure you call Lila soon. She’s a smitten kitten about Cade and wants to gush about him all the time.”

I laugh. “I know, but I’m happy she’s with him. I’ll catch up with her soon. Thanks for listening. Enjoy brunch tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too. Ciao.”

“See ya.” Emma clicks off, her face momentarily frozen on screen before disappearing.

I sigh, falling back onto my bed and checking the time. 3:40AM. Where is Lexi? Should I wait up for her? Text her? How does this work? If it were Lila or Emma or Maura, I would call them until I knew where they were. I contemplate for a moment before deciding better safe than sorry. Rolling over onto my stomach I send her a quick message.

Me: Hey – just checking that you’re okay? Are you coming home tonight?

I feel better now that I’ve discussed Lorenzo with Emma. I know that she’s right. I just need to enjoy the experience. It was my idea to be present in the moment, not overthink everything and just live for once, but it’s so much harder than I thought it would be. Letting go of my insecurities, my routine, the discipline that keeps me focused and in control, even for a night, is difficult the next morning when I look in the mirror and see the swollen bulge of my stomach, the meaty flesh of my thighs.

Don’t think about it.

Ugh. I can’t help it. After tossing and turning for fifteen minutes, I make my way down the hall and into the bathroom. Once my system is purged, I feel much better. Lighter and cleaner, sleep calls out to me.

My last thoughts as my eyes flutter closed are that I, Mia Petrella, took shots at a club, danced with Pepe, and ended the night with a goodnight kiss from Lorenzo.

Who knew that such a short time in Italy could be this life changing?

Chapter Twenty-One

Lorenzo

The next afternoon Mama slaps the back of my head lightly with a wooden spoon when I saunter into the restaurant around 1:00PM. Shit. I overslept. And I never cleaned up the kitchen from last night with Mia. Claudia was supposed to wake me, but according to her text message, she forgot.

“Did you have a good night?” Mama asks politely, but I sense the derision in her tone. She’s pissed. I’m grateful she doesn’t mention the mess she walked into this morning.

“Sorry, Mama. I overslept.” I shrug, trying to look apologetic. But what’s the big deal? It’s not like there wasn’t any other staff coming in this morning and the restaurant didn’t open on time. Everything worked out fine. I hate when she makes things into a bigger deal than the situation warrants.

I really don’t want to piss her off either. Especially before I’ve even had an espresso.

“Lorenzo,” she sighs heavily, her hands twisting in her apron, “when are you going to understand that you have some responsibility, some accountability, to show up when you’re supposed to? I’m glad you had a fun time with your friends, but not if it interferes with your commitments. Not when it interferes with business.” Her eyes harden as she looks at me. “You’re not a child anymore. You are the man of this family. Start acting like it.” She nods at me, effectively ending our conversation, before walking out of the kitchen.

I watch the back of her frame sway as she walks out onto the patio and sits down at the corner table. At Mia’s table. She cradles her face in her open palms for a moment, and I can tell she’s trying to steady whatever emotion she’s feeling.

I lean back against the counter, thinking. It’s so unlike Mama to react like that because I’m a few hours late for a shift, or a family dinner, or anything. I get that she’s annoyed I left the kitchen a mess, but it’s still out of character for her to react so strongly. She used to just laugh off my behavior with a “boys will be boys” shrug and a wink when Papa would come down hard on me. Now, it’s like role reversal, and she’s adopted his strict demeanor and he’s laughing down at me as if to say,
the joke’s on you
.

I groan out loud. Ever since Papa’s passing, Mama has been stressed, overwhelmed, serious. She’s lost her laidback nature and easy smile. Instead, her eyes are bleary with exhaustion and her mouth is set in a grim, firm line. Am I missing something here? Maybe Claudia is right and something is actually wrong.

My head pounds. I need an espresso before I can give this situation any serious thought.

I’d rather think about last night and kissing Mia instead.

* * *

Mama leaves the restaurant early in the evening. On her way out, she squeezes my hand and kisses the back of my wrist. “I’ll see you at home.” She says it sternly and I understand her message loud and clear: no partying tonight.

“Si.”

She nods once and then briskly leaves the kitchen, handing out orders and reminders to Simona and the waitresses working tonight as she makes her way to the exit.

Damn. I was hoping Mia would come by today but maybe it’s best she didn’t. With Mama’s foul mood overshadowing the entire restaurant, my flirting would have been ineffective, my game completely blocked.

“How pissed was she?” Claudia asks, sidling up beside me.

“What are you doing here?”

“I felt bad that I forgot to wake you.” She shrugs an apology. “I thought I would come by and see if you needed any help?”

Wow. That’s a kind and rare gesture from Claudia. I narrow my eyes at her. “What do you want?”

She huffs. “You seriously suck. It’s like everyone has to have an ulterior motive with you. I was just trying to be helpful.” Her gaze meets mine. I’m shocked to see that her eyes are sincere.

“You’re serious?”

She nods. “I’m worried about Mama.”

Damn it. I knew something was up. “Why?”

Claudia’s eyes widen and darken. “Why?” she retorts. “Are you blind? She’s acting completely different. She’s so serious and frustrated and stressed about everything. And I mean everything. When I asked her about Zio Benito, she played dumb, as if she didn’t know what I was talking about. But I know what I heard. Then yesterday she broke down in tears over a broken vase. I mean, really, when has Mama ever cried over anything material that can obviously be replaced? I was like ‘just order a new one.’”

“Maybe she’s still grieving?”

“No.” My sister shakes her head. “It’s something else.”

And as much as I hate to admit it, I know she’s right.

But what is it?

“A table of ten just sat down on the patio,” Simona calls out, walking into the kitchen and picking up a stack of rolled silverware.

Claudia sighs, tying an apron around her waist. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” I tell her.