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

by Gina Azzi

  When I set the caffé and cornetto down next to her notebook, her eyes flash up to meet mine.

  She smiles shyly. “Grazie.” She takes the caffé in one hand, pulling it closer to her chest and wrapping her fingers around the cup. “It’s okay.” She shakes her head, pushing the plate with the cornetto back in my direction.

  I laugh. She’s modest. Sweet. “No, it’s for you.” I wink, turning back into the restaurant.

  I watch her from the kitchen, her head bent low over her book. Every now and then she scribbles furiously in her notebook. Occasionally, she highlights a line or two in the textbook. Her forehead wrinkles slightly when something confounds her, but for the most part her reading is quick and efficient, her lips moving rapidly.

  She sips her caffé slowly, enjoying it. At one point, her eyes close as she inhales the strong aroma and a small smile flits across her lips. She eyes the cornetto warily. Reaching out hesitantly, she breaks off one end and takes a small bite, nibbling the pastry slowly. She brushes the crumbs from her hands and sighs, pushing the small plate farther away.

  Moments later, her friends pass by, their backpacks and shoulder bags laden with books and binders. They call out to her, and she looks up and smiles, waving a greeting. The blonde from last time approaches her table and leans over, whispering in her ear. I watch as she tips her head back and laughs, the delicate sound washing over the patio. She nods in agreement to something the blonde said and sets some euros on the table. She packs up her textbook and notes and turns to leave the patio. At the last moment she turns around and her eyes catch mine. She smiles warmly, her face lightening. “Grazie mille.”

  “Prego,” I call back, taking a step out of the restaurant. “Ci vediamo domani?” I ask her. Please say I’ll see you tomorrow.

  She nods once, her smile widening, and turns to join her friends.

  I watch her as she walks away, her back growing smaller, her purple backpack thumping against her shoulders with each step. She’s younger than me. Still in school. And yet there’s something there, something about her that I can’t place. It’s almost like wisdom, a flicker of loneliness in her chocolate eyes, a sadness in the curve of her lips, a seriousness in her demeanor, something that speaks to her maturity. She’s intriguing as hell. And that is very surprising.

  Chapter Ten

  Mia

  “Ciao! Siamo qui!” The front door bangs closed as footsteps sound in the kitchen.

  Lexi stands up from my desk chair, and I bound off the bed. “They’re here,” I whisper to her.

  “Duh.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s about time.”

  “Ragazze?” A deep baritone voice calls out.

  “Let’s go!” Lexi pinches my arm lightly, and I follow her into the hallway.

  “Ah! There you are!” A petite woman, Paola, smiles warmly, her dark hair cut short, close to her scalp, a streak of blue slanting across the right side. She throws open her arms and pulls Lexi and me in for hugs, as if we are her long-lost cousins and not the foreign exchange students she got stuck with for the semester.

  “Fantastico!” The deep voice laughs. Gianluca.

  When I turn from the warm embrace of Paola, he stands before me holding a tray of champagne flutes. He smiles broadly and pushes the tray forward. “Take one.”

  Paola and Gianluca Franchetti have arrived home from Spain.

  “What are we cheers-ing to?” Lexi asks holding her flute in front of her face.

  “To your arrival of course!” Paola laughs.

  “Salute,” we all say, clinking glasses and taking a sip of the bubbly prosecco.

  “Benvenuti a Roma.” Gianluca welcomes us warmly.

  “Sit and tell us all about your first week.” Paola smiles, dropping onto the couch.

  Lexi and I follow suit. I sit tucked between Lexi and Paola. I smile nervously at my host parents and duck my head shyly when Paola pats my elbow. Lexi, not a shy bone in her body, launches into a recap of our past few days here. Every detail falls from her lips and I’m impressed she made so many observations in such a short amount of time. She even tells Paola and Gianluca about the hot waiter at Angelina’s Ristorante! For crying out loud, this girl has no shame.

  Paola’s eyes twinkle as she asks follow up questions. “How hot is hot?”

  “A ten,” Lexi says seriously. “But he only has eyes for this girl.” She tosses her thumb in my direction.

  “Uh-oh. Am I going to have to kick this guy’s ass for hitting on you?” Gianluca asks sternly, his eyes widening at me.

  I look up and freeze, my mouth dropping open but no words come out.

  “If that’s the case,” Gianluca holds up his right arm, flexing his bicep, “I’m going to have to start pumping some serious iron.” He laughs loudly at his own joke, “Isn’t that what you Americans say?”

  Lexi giggles. “Maybe in the eighties.”

  Paola rolls her eyes, clearly amused.

  Gianluca chuckles at Lexi’s crack. “Relax, cara.” He turns, facing me. “I’m kidding. You’re in Roma now. Enjoy it!”

  I nod in agreement, the embarrassment of my reaction slowly fading from my cheeks.

  Paola pats my elbow again and turns her head back to Lexi as she asks about the best clubs. Gianluca answers her seriously, spouting off a list of the most happening places. Every now and then, Paola tosses in a suggestion that Gianluca either dismisses or enthusiastically supports.

  The Franchettis are warm, friendly, and overflowing with sunshine and laughter. Not at all like the host parents I expected. I think it’s safe to assume that Lexi and I are living with host-siblings. I smile to myself. It’s as if the pact I made with the girls was supposed to happen. Who else has host parents who will most likely accompany them into clubs, bars, and fun?

  I relax, settling deeper into the couch. Forget about Lexi, I really lucked out in the host family department.

  * * *

  That evening, Gianluca and Paola take Lexi and me out for dinner.

  “I swear I usually cook,” Gianluca promises, placing his hand over his heart.

  Lexi laughs but Paola shakes her head seriously, “No, it’s true. He usually does cook. I’m better at this.” She holds up her wine glass and winks mischievously before taking a sip.

  Gianluca snorts and Paola must kick him under the table because he winces and gives her a look. She blows a kiss at him affectionately.

  Lexi and I laugh.

  “So, this hot waiter…” Paola leans in closer to me “…what do you think about him?”

  I shrug noncommittally. “I don’t know. It’s not like he likes me or anything. I don’t even know his name.”

  “It’s Lorenzo.” Lexi chimes in helpfully.

  Of course she knows his name.

  Gianluca clucks his tongue. “Ah, bella, of course he likes you. Don’t be silly.”

  Paola nods in encouragement. “Based off of everything Lexi told us, he likes you,” she says practically.

  “Oh yeah, because I doubt Lexi would ever exaggerate,” I say sarcastically.

  Three faces turn to stare at me, their eyes wide, their mouths slightly ajar.

  “My dear Mia,” Lexi says seriously, “was that a joke?”

  I roll my eyes exasperated.

  A moment ticks by and then Lexi, Paola, and Gianluca erupt in giggles. “Oh my God, you can be funny! Who would have thought?” Lexi spits out between laughs.

  After a moment I join in with them. Is this what it’s like to be part of a normal, functional family? Is this what it would be like if Mom was never diagnosed with cancer, if she was still here with us? Would she, Dad, and I sit around a table in a restaurant laughing? Would we travel to Europe as a family? I blink, trying to clear my thoughts. But really, it feels good to be accepted, to feel like I’m part of a family unit.

  We’re still cracking up and clenching our bellies when the waiter arrives at our table. Lexi is fanning herself with the menu, her face bright red.

  “We’ll take an
other bottle of wine,” Paola says to his confused face.

  We start laughing all over again.

  If Lila were here, she would already declare herself in love with Paola and Gianluca. Feeling at ease, I know that Lexi and I are definitely going to have an amazing semester living with the Franchettis.

  Lexi gives me a knowing look and a slight head nod.

  We’re totally lucky.

  * * *

  Truth be told, I’m slightly tipsy when Lexi, Paola, Gianluca, and I arrive home from dinner. Gianluca and Paola say goodnight, disappearing into their bedroom. They probably want to unpack and relax after their trip.

  “They’re definitely doing it,” Lexi comments.

  “What?” I look up at her sharply, looking over my shoulder to make sure that their bedroom door is closed.

  Lexi laughs at my expression. “Relax, they can’t hear me. And even if they could, who would be that upset about having a fantastic sex life?” she asks reasonably, pulling me down the hall into her bedroom.

  She lets go of my hand once her bedroom door is closed and gestures to her bed. I sit down and watch as Lexi flips through dresses hanging in her closet.

  “Found it,” she announces, turning toward me and smiling brightly. She holds up a very tiny, very short, very sexy green dress. “Put this on. We’re going out.”

  “What?” I ask again. Jeez, do I possess any other words in my vocabulary?

  Lexi rolls her eyes. “We’re going out. You and me. Gianluca already told me about some good clubs. Oh, come on. Classes have just started. We barely have any homework yet. Let’s go have some fun! Plus, you’ll look hot in this. Trust me.” She pushes the dress toward me again.

  I hold it gingerly. Lexi turns back to her closet, flipping through hangars. I wait until her attention is focused on a purple dress she’s considering wearing before I quickly undress and slip into the green dress.

  “Damn! You look hot as fuck,” Lexi comments when she turns around. “I wish I was as skinny as you.”

  “I’m not,” I say truthfully.

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be one of those girls. You’re a skinny bitch. Flaunt it.” She smiles. “I have the perfect shoes for that dress. What size do you wear?”

  “Seven,” I answer automatically, immediately cursing myself afterward. I hate wearing heels.

  “Yay! Me too!” Lexi roots around in her closet. “Found them.” She announces moments later, turning to hand me ridiculously high wedges. “We have to do wedges here, our stilettos will get stuck in the cobblestones. That’s the only practical advice I got from my sorority regarding my study abroad.” She laughs.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. I can handle wedges. I try them on and turn to see my reflection in the mirror. Whoa. Lexi was right. This dress does make me look good. Well, good is a stretch. I look better. Better still requires improvement but it’s not tragic. I nod at my reflection. “Thank you,” I tell Lexi sincerely.

  She swats a hand in my direction before tugging the purple dress up her body. “Zip me up and let’s get a move on.”

  * * *

  The club Lexi takes me too is private and exclusive and unlike any place I’ve ever been before. Walking through the front entrance, I cling to Lexi’s arm. The bouncer motions us forward, smiling as Lexi winks at him, holding up two fingers. He ushers us inside, holding a velvet rope open for us, not even bothering to glance at our IDs.

  Once inside, Lexi grabs my hand and beelines to the bar. The music is pulsing, the swarm of bodies on the dance floor moving in rhythm to the beat. Scantily clad waitresses with long legs and bare torsos weave in between the dancers, chatting with the men sitting at the cocktail tables, delivering drinks and taking orders. Occasionally, one of the cocktail waitresses will tinker a laugh as a well-dressed man, in a well-tailored jacket, slips folded up euros into her hand. Or the waistband of her shorts. How do these women stay so thin, so tiny, when the unforgiving carbohydrates of pasta, pizza, and bread constantly surround them?

  “What are you drinking?” Lexi shouts to me over the music, holding up her pointer finger to the bartender.

  I shrug. “Whatever you’re having.”

  The bartenders move around each other fluidly, concocting unique drinks and embellishing the drink-making process like true mixologists. Lexi orders us two prosecco-based drinks and two shots. She smiles at me. “Tonight, we are celebrating!”

  “What are we celebrating?” I ask, momentarily confused and hoping it’s not her birthday or something.

  “La vita Italiana!” she exclaims, turning to hand me a shot glass and sliding her credit card across the bar to start a tab.

  I smile and raise my shot glass at her, “Thank you!”

  She raises her own glass in response. “To an awesome semester with an amazing roomie,” she announces.

  I roll my eyes but clink shot glasses with her, tossing the burning alcohol back. Within seconds, my eyes are tearing and I’m pretty much choking. “What was that?”

  Lexi pats me on the back. “Tequila.”

  Oh shit. Lila and Emma drink tequila sometimes. Then they don’t move from the couch for the rest of the weekend.

  “Relax. I won’t let anything happen to you. Live a little!” Lexi yells in my ear, taking a sip of her other drink. She hands me a champagne flute, and I follow suit, the sweet aroma of peach floating around me as prosecco bubbles dance down my throat. The drink is delicious. And Lexi’s right. I do need to live a little. That is the whole point of my study abroad … to have an adventure. Maura’s words come back to me. I’m being brave.

  I turn toward the bartender and order two more shots, handing over a twenty-euro note.

  Lexi woops in approval.

  The alcohol hits me hard and before I know it, Lexi and I are dancing amidst a sea of bodies. Our arms wave above our heads, our hips twirl to the beat, our faces sport goofy grins and smeared eye shadow. And for once, finally, I’m living a real college experience.

  When a hard body comes up behind me, placing rough hands on my hips and pulling my frame back to grind against him, I don’t fight it. I can tell from Lexi’s expression that he’s hot, so why not enjoy it?

  My skin feels hot. Lexi’s dress clings to me as I move. I push my hair out of my eyes as the guy’s hands move up my body, clasping my fingers in his and turning me around to face him. The brief glimpse I get of his face assures me he is hot. A tall, dark, and handsome. Moments later his mouth descends on mine, and I stop thinking altogether.

  I make out with a stranger.

  I hear Lexi’s laugh somewhere behind me.

  I run my fingers up the stranger’s arms, enjoying the heat of his skin, the feel of his muscles as they bunch under my touch. His hands frame my face, clasp around my neck, pull me into him. I sway in his embrace, enjoying the way his lips feel against mine. I kiss him back hard.

  The heat travels up my body and suddenly my stomach rolls and coils. My hands feel clammy. I need space. Uh-oh. Moments later, I break away, looking for the nearest bathroom. Lexi, somehow sensing my distress, clasps my arm, drags me to a side exit, and pushes the door open. Stumbling outside, I breathe in deeply. The air is sticky and humid and hot. Still, it’s better than the smoky club.

  I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees. Lexi rubs my back reassuringly.

  Then I puke.

  And for once in my life, it’s not self-induced.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lorenzo

  The rest of the weekend drags on. On Saturday, I volunteer to work Claudia’s shifts at Angelina’s so she can go out with her best friend Marissa. I catch her completely off-guard, and she eyes me suspiciously. I huff and grumble for appearances sake, making her swear that she’ll owe me, but the surprising truth is that I want to.

  As much as it shocks me to admit it, I’m hoping that the brunette comes by again. And this feeling, wanting to see some girl—a girl I don’t even know—is so new and foreign to me that I don’t know what to do w
ith it. When Angelina’s closes and there is no sign of the pretty brunette, I’m in a foul mood.

  To kill some time and try and drink myself into a better mood, I agree to meet up with Sandro. Walking into one of our favorite bars, I automatically locate him standing next to the bar, a Peroni in hand.

  He glances over at me as I walk closer to the bar. “What’s your deal? Why are you in such a shit mood?” he asks, automatically reading the grimace on my face.

  I shrug. “Had to pick up Claudia’s shifts,” I lie.

  “That sucks.” Sandro takes a pull of his Peroni. “What’s she doing tonight?”

  I look at him, narrowing my eyes. He’s never asked about Claudia before.

  “What?” He asks. “What’s she got going on that’s so important that you had to work for her?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  He grunts, taking another swig of beer. “Well, try to lighten up. You’re scaring all of the talent away.” He looks around the bar, his gaze zeroing in on a group of women.

  I roll my eyes. “You do that all by yourself with your menacing face and crappy attitude,” I tell him.

  He barks out a rare laugh, waving down the bartender. Minutes later a bottle of prosecco and a round of limoncello shots are delivered to the group of girls.

  As if on cue, two beautiful blondes sidle up to the bar to introduce themselves.

  “Hi,” the taller one says, draping an arm across the bar, her tits brushing lightly against my arm. “I’m Anna. Thank you for the prosecco and limoncello. That was really sweet.” She arches her back slightly, pushing her chest harder against my arm. I gaze down appreciatively. At least she’s got a good rack.

  “I’m Gemma,” her friend adds, clasping Sandro’s hand in hers as he makes introductions.

  “It was our pleasure. How are you girls doing tonight?” Sandro asks, allowing Gemma to wrap her fingers around his wrist as she pretends to admire his watch. Ah, maybe she’s actually admiring it. The gold Rolex Submariner is nothing to scoff at, and judging by this girl’s getup, I’m sure she only rocks fakes.