Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) (12 page)

She smiles at me. “Don’t worry, Enzo. We’ll figure out what’s going on with Mama.” She pats my hand as she brushes past me and out of the kitchen.

I frown to myself. I really hope so.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mia

I squeeze my eyes shut tight against the sunlight streaming into my room. Damn it. I forgot to close the shutters last night before I fell asleep. I groan to myself, opening my eyes slowly, prepared for the blazing headache that will throb behind my eyes and dull the rest of my senses. After a few blinks, I’m surprised to note that I feel fine. Not awesome. But definitely not nursing the hangover I was imagining. Score!

“Ugh, it’s about time you woke up.” Lexi’s voice causes me to jump in bed. She’s sitting at my desk chair, flipping through a magazine.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to wake up so we can eat breakfast and discuss everything that happened last night.” She snaps her magazine shut and angles her body toward me. “I want to know everything. Plus, I’m starving.”

“I texted you last night.” I hold my phone up at her.

“I know. I answered,” she replies.

I check my phone and note that she did answer. At seven this morning. “Really? 7:00AM?”

She shrugs. “I was busy … if you know what I mean.” She swivels her hips suggestively.

“Ew, stop. I’m getting up.”

“Finally!” Lexi claps her hands together loudly. The sound is jarring, and I’m grateful my headache is a dull throb and not a relentless pounding. “Be ready in fifteen,” she orders, leaving my room.

I sink back against the pillows and sigh. And then I smile.

This is so much more fun than I ever anticipated!

* * *

Lexi and I do some window-shopping on Via del Corso as we stroll down the street. We grabbed a quick breakfast at a café in Palazzo del Popolo, and now we are walking back home. Lexi is eating a gelato and moaning after each bite.

“You really should have got some,” she says for the third time, panna doting the end of her nose. “This is amazing.”

“So you keep saying.” I shake my head. “I really am hungover.”

She nods in understanding. “I can’t believe you ended up leaving with Lorenzo. I knew he liked you!”

“Yeah, I didn’t see that coming.” Even though I hoped it would.

“But it’s what you wanted, right?”

I nod. “Yeah.” I look up at her and smile. “It’s definitely what I wanted.”

Lexi squeals and grabs my arm. “Amazing! Oh, let’s go in here. I want to try on that dress.” She stops outside Zara to point to a mannequin wearing a short navy dress with an embellished collar. “We should both buy new outfits today.” Lexi decides.

I’m about to shake my head no, but really, why the hell not?

“Let’s do it.” I agree, letting her pull me into the store.

* * *

When Professoressa Giuliana dismisses class on Wednesday, I’m surprised that Pete still hasn’t appeared. Is he sick? He was in class earlier this week, and we agreed to finally discuss our project today and then meet after our next class to begin working on actual concepts and ideas. I debate texting him to check in. But that’s too nerdy right? I mean, he’s my classmate not my BFF, and it’s not like our project is due tomorrow. We have weeks, months before we have to submit it.

On the way out of class, I turn in my reflection assignment. Oh wow, Pete is missing the deadline for the reflection! I stop at the end of the hallway and dig through my backpack to make sure I have all the books and materials I need for the next assignment.

“Mia! Wait up!” Pete calls outs suddenly, startling me. He playfully bumps his shoulder against mine when he catches up to me.

“Hey! You weren’t in class today, everything okay?”

Pete nods, his hazel eyes flashing mischievously. “I overslept.”

I laugh. Well, that’s a relief. Although incredibly irresponsible. Oh my God, stop judging him. “You didn’t miss much.”

“I figured. I just popped by to turn in the assignment and tell Professoressa that I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

“What did she say?”

“She laughed and said next time I shouldn’t drink so many Peronis during a football match.” He dips his broad shoulders, the soft fabric of his Polo shirt pulling against his biceps. He smirks sheepishly, embarrassed that our professor called him out on his hangover.

I laugh, swatting his arm. Jeez, even his forearms are all muscle. “Busted.”

“Unfortunately.” He fake grimaces. “Hey, now that I’m here and finally awake, want to work on our partner project?”

“Now? I thought we were going to meet after next class.”

“Yeah. I mean, we could wait if you have plans today. Or we could go grab a coffee and start brainstorming topics. Get an idea for what we want to cover. I know I’ve been a bit MIA. I don’t want you to think I’m not taking this seriously.” Pete’s eyes meet mine, serious, studious, genuine. Not bloodshot or rimmed in red that speaks of the typical hangovers Lila and Emma sport after a night at the frat houses.

Then again, when has anyone—other than myself of course—ever harped on a group project like the world is going to end if everything isn’t completed months in advance? I almost jump giddily but refrain when I realize how pathetic that would make me. Reining in my enthusiasm, I settle for a smile.

“Sure. I know a great spot.”

“Lead on.” Pete holds open the door to the main entrance and gently places his hand on my lower back, guiding me into the sunshine.

“Do you have any travel plans for the next few weekends?” I ask him as we walk to Angelina’s. “A lot of people in class seem to be traveling every weekend. I guess that’s why our courses aren’t offered on Fridays.” It’s pretty amazing having a three-day weekend. Every weekend. It’s so completely different than the hectic schedule I was always trying to juggle at McShain.

“Not for another two weeks.” Pete groans, running a hand through his sandy hair. “But then I’m definitely going to Germany and Austria. You?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t really thought about it yet. I’ve just been enjoying Rome. I like feeling like I belong here.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Like if we travel every weekend, we’re not really living the experience here.”

“Exactly.” We turn the corner and I point to the restaurant. “This is it.”

“Cool.”

When Pete and I sit down at my usual corner table, I feel Lorenzo’s gaze on the back of my neck. I don’t turn my head. I don’t want him to think I’m bringing another guy here to make him jealous. Because I’m not, right? I mean, isn’t not like Lorenzo and I are a “thing.” We’re not. It was just one kiss, after a long night of drinking. It’s not like I mean anything to him. I don’t. But still, the heaviness of his gaze causes butterflies deep in my stomach and a thrill runs up my spine.

“Ciao, bellezza.” Lorenzo smiles, walking over to our table and leaning down to kiss my cheek.

Well that was unexpected.

I feel my cheeks redden, and I grip the underside of the table to check my emotions. “Ciao.” I smile back.

“Who is your friend?” Lorenzo asks, assessing Pete directly, his eyes sharp on Pete’s face.

Pete stands up slightly and sticks out a hand. “Pete Buchanan.”

“Lorenzo.” Lorenzo shakes Pete’s hand, but his arm is stiff, his smile tight.

“We’re just working on a project. Pete’s my partner.” I hold up my notebook apologetically. Why do I feel the need to explain myself? Pete and I aren’t doing anything wrong by studying here. Maybe we should have gone somewhere else? Ugh, why am I overthinking this? It was one kiss; it meant nothing. Still, my face grows warm under Lorenzo’s gaze and the hard glint in his eyes sends a slew of wishful thoughts through my mind. And heart. He looks … jealous. Maybe it was more than just a kiss?

Lorenzo nods. “What can I get for you?” he asks Pete.

“A cappuccino.”

“And a caffé latte for you, bella?” Lorenzo turns his gaze to me and his eyes darken. He leans in slightly, his fingers tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger a moment longer than necessary and stroke the curve of my neck.

I nod, shivering inadvertently at his touch. I definitely shouldn’t have brought Pete here. Maybe I should have visited Angelina’s earlier in the week instead of waiting so long to see Lorenzo after our kiss? Dumb, stupid games.

Lorenzo’s eyes assess mine, and he offers a small smile before turning back into the restaurant.

“Come here often?” Pete asks, leaning forward and scooting his chair closer to mine. His tone holds an edge of sarcasm but his face remains blank, concealing his thoughts. Or maybe he’s just making small talk?

I nod, leaning back in my chair and putting some distance between us. “Yeah. I study here a lot.”

Pete leans back as well and looks around. “It’s a good place to study. The location is quiet, but since it’s so close to Campo de’ Fiori, it’s still a central location.” He drums his fingertips against the edge of the table. “It’s nice to sit outside before it gets too cold, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” I smile, leaning forward again and resting my arms along the edge of the table. “Although I think this may be the last week to sit outside. Should we start?”

“Sure.” Pete runs a hand through his sandy hair. He leans over the side of his chair and retrieves his notebook and a pen from his backpack. “Hey, are you going to the Tre Fratelli concert?”

I shake my head, flipping my notebook open and shuffling through the pages to find the notes I jotted down regarding the partner project. Tre Fratelli. The insanely popular Italian boy band. Think Justin Beiber meets One Direction, Italian-style. I need to send Lila some of their clips on YouTube. She’d love them. “No. I didn’t even know about it.”

“What?” Pete stops moving and faces me. He reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder, shaking gently. “Are you for real? That’s all anyone is talking about. Everyone is going!”

“Everyone?” I raise my eyebrows.

He laughs. “Yes. Literally everyone that you know from school is going. It was just announced that they’re performing here next month. You should come.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“No really. Come with me. A bunch of us are meeting up at my place beforehand to pre-game. It’s going to be dope.”

I roll my eyes but smile back at Pete. An invitation to a party, a pre-game? I’ve been to two pre-games before for basketball games when McShain made it to the finals. Lila and Emma made me go both times, citing the end of our friendship if I didn’t show up. But this time, I won’t have Lila or Emma to act as a buffer for me. I’ll have to mingle and chat with people and be normal. But it’s weeks away. I may be more comfortable around my classmates by then. Plus, I’m sure Lexi would come if I ask her.
Push past your comfort zone.
“Okay.”

“Great!” Pete slides his hand down my arm to my elbow, squeezing gently before letting go. “You’ll have fun. I promise.”

“Cappuccino.” Lorenzo’s voice cuts through the air. He places the cup down between Pete and me, forcing additional space between us.

“Grazie.” Pete smiles at Lorenzo appreciatively. “Looks great.”

Lorenzo nods briskly, his lips a thin line of frustration.

Crap. Is he mad at me? Ugh, why did I bring Pete here? Especially since I haven’t even talked to Lorenzo since our kiss. I wasn’t thinking. Did I want Lorenzo to see me with Pete and react? Why am I playing these stupid games?

“Un caffé latte.” He places the latte down gently near my hand. “Con latte scremato.” He watches me closely, his eyes flashing the instant I force myself to meet his gaze. “Good luck with your project,” he says sincerely, but his skeptical expression belies his words.

Yep, he’s pissed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lorenzo

I’m sitting in the restaurant, pretending to roll silverware, while I really watch Mia and her friend. Pete Buchanan. The All-American guy who wears a freaking polo shirt and a baseball cap to class. He’s ridiculous. And yet Mia is eating it up, smiling at him, leaning in when he speaks, not brushing his hand away when he touches her.

A small vein in my forehead throbs, and I can feel my blood beginning to boil.
Shut it down, Enzo.
I kissed the girl one freaking time. Once. Nothing else happened. So why am I reacting like I just caught my girl fucking another guy? Why do I even care? She’s doing an assignment with her classmate. Drinking a caffé. Not eating chocolate covered strawberries and sipping champagne. In bed.

I shake my head at my wayward thoughts. Besides, she brought him here. To my restaurant. She obviously knew she would see me. Which means one of two things: she wanted me to see her with another guy to make me jealous or she really is working on an assignment with a classmate and didn’t think anything of it.

Jesus, I hope it’s the second one.

“Enzo.” Claudia’s voice rings out, a welcomed distraction from my thoughts. “Glad you’re still here.” She sits down next to me, her dark curls falling forward over her shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are serious, more serious than I’ve ever seen them.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, expertly tucking in the napkin around the fork and knife and placing it in the pile of perfectly rolled silverware. This was the first responsibility I ever had at Angelina’s, back when I was a kid. Years of practice means I can roll silverware without paying attention, without even thinking.

Claudia reaches out, clutching my hand in hers, stilling my efforts to pick up the next knife and fork. “Claudia, is Mama okay?”

She swallows and her eyes fill with tears. “Si. She’s okay. But I learned why she hasn’t been herself, why she’s been so despondent.”

I let out a long breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. “Okay. What is it?”

She shakes her head. “Zio Benito. Jesus.” She drops her head into her hand and takes a deep breath, squeezing my hand gently before letting go. I don’t interrupt her as she tries to regain her composure. When she raises her head again, she looks me directly in the eyes. Her eyes are clear. And angry. A deep fury burning from her irises. “He … I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he convinced Papa to name him as his beneficiary. He’s inherited all of Papa’s shares for all of the companies. He’s inherited all the properties, the vineyards, everything. He’s even on the board! Benito has effectively stepped in to control Papa’s legacy.”