Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) (26 page)

I rinse my mouth out at the faucet, brushing my teeth with my finger and some toothpaste I find in the medicine cabinet. I walk back to the bedroom as quietly as I can. I hear Lorenzo banging around in the kitchen, probably making espresso. Or a Negroni. I pack my bag as quickly as I can, pulling on an oversized sweater and a pair of boots. Then I slip out the side entrance of the house and make my way quietly to the street.

The air is cold when it hits my face, each breeze chafes against my skin. I keep my head down, burrowing my chin into the neck of my sweater. I left my coat hanging in the hall closet. Oh well. I’d rather freeze to death then face Lorenzo. I never want to see the disgust, the horror, the pure revulsion cross anyone’s face like that for as long as I live. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, and I blink rapidly, trying to hold them in.
Please don’t fall, please don’t fall.

“Scusa.” A deep voice says as I nearly walk right into an elderly man.

“Mi dispiace,” I murmur, trying to sidestep him.

“Non ti preoccupari,” he responds calmly, his hands clutching my shoulders as he tries to steady himself.

I look up sharply, momentarily stunned as it would appear I’m looking into the face of an older Lorenzo … say, when he’s seventy.

The man gives a little smile and pats my shoulders in thanks. “Buona giornata,” he rasps, walking around me.

“Have a good day,” I respond, turning my head to watch him walk down Lorenzo’s street. So strange. I shake my head, clearing it of any thoughts other than the fastest way to reach the train station.

I need to get back to Rome.

* * *

Luckily the train station is only two blocks away. I walk quickly, my head down as I walk directly into the wind. I’m about half a block away when the rain starts, a slight pitter-patter that quickly turns into a downfall of big fat raindrops. Longing washes through me as I imagine Lorenzo and I laughing and running through the rain, jumping in the biggest puddles to splash each other. I walk faster. Now I’m alone, running away again like the coward I am.

How could he see me like that? How could he ever want me now, knowing how weak I am? Knowing my darkest, dirtiest secret?

I breathe out in relief when I burst into the train station and see that the next train to Rome is in seven minutes. Thank God! I quickly buy a ticket and escape to the restroom, away from the curious eyes of the ticket sales clerk. Locking the door behind me, I breathe out deep, bracing my arms on the counter and hanging my head as my tears come in a tidal wave of heartbreak. I shake my head in shame and cry until I hear the distant rumble of the train advancing on the tracks. I wipe the back of my hand across my face, check the time on my phone. Two minutes to go. Pain seizes my heart as I notice the missed calls from Lorenzo, his text messages a running thread across my screen.

Lorenzo: Mia? Where are you???

Lorenzo: Hello??? Where did you go?

Lorenzo: Please, just tell me you’re okay! Please.

Lorenzo: Mia?????

I turn my phone off and leave the bathroom. Then I slip onto the train just as it enters the station. I walk to the back, huddle down into one of the seats, and close my eyes.

Chapter Forty-Five

Lorenzo

I’m grateful that Claudia is still sleeping when the front door opens. The relief I feel nearly chokes me. Thank God. Mia’s back. I can’t believe what I saw in that fucking bathroom. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, anger still coursing through my veins. Why would she hurt herself like that? What am I supposed to do? What’s the right thing to say? More than anything, I just want to feel her in my arms, comfort her, help her through this. But how?

I’m staring out the window, my arms braced on an old antique table so I don’t see him come in. But then he clears his throat and the relief I momentarily felt evaporates like smoke.

“Benito,” I say without turning around.

“Ah, nephew, so good to see you. Why didn’t you invite me to last night’s soiree?” His voice is low and gravelly. He coughs slightly; too many years of hard drinking and constant smoking.

I turn to face him, my eyes widening in surprise when I see how much he’s aged. My papa’s brother was always a handsome man, a natural charmer. Otherwise, how can one explain his years of gambling, cheating, and whoring? But now he looks old, tired, and frail. “What are you doing here?”

He raises his eyebrows, his cold eyes shrewd. “I think the question you should be answering is what are you doing here? This is no longer your home, Enzo; surely Rafaello passed along that bit of knowledge when you met with him, hmm?” He raises his eyebrows in question.

How the fuck does he know I met with Rafaello? I keep my face smooth, giving nothing away. He could be bluffing.

“Is that why that beautiful girl left here in tears?” he asks. “Did she find out that you’re not actually worth all of this?” He holds his arms out widely, looking around the massive room.

When the fuck did he see Mia? And how did he connect her to me? No, he knows nothing.
Don’t give him anything to use against you, Enzo.

I ignore him. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, Benito, but you’re not going to win. I don’t know how you managed to change Papa’s mind and sneak your way into his will, but I will not let you destroy what took him a lifetime to build. I will not let you destroy his legacy.”

He laughs quietly, the sound cold and calculating. “Ah, Enzo, but there is nothing you can do about it. It’s all quite clear. Please, tell Elenora to stop avoiding my calls. The sooner we sort out Salvatore’s will,
his last wishes
, the easier it will be for her in the long term. Financially and in other areas.”

“What does that mean?”
Damn it, don’t take the bait!

Benito looks at me and shakes his head sadly. “You really know nothing, Enzo. Such a shame.” He clucks his tongue. “Salvatore’s son. You could have been something.” He gestures to my frame. “Instead, he spoiled you, indulged you too much. Let you grow up into nothing but a shadow of the man he was at your age.”

I grit my teeth, biting down on my tongue so hard that I taste blood. Metallic like rust. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, coming back to Rome, meeting up with Gianni Costenzo, avoiding all the people you owe money to. But whatever it is, it’s on you. Don’t you dare think about dragging my papa’s reputation through the mud, tainting his name with yours. Don’t for one second think that I will let you hurt Mama and Claudia.”

“Is that all?”

I remain silent.

Benito smiles. “Well, at least Salvatore taught you how to hold your tongue, eh?” Before he turns away he calls out, “Good morning, sleeping beauty. I know you’re here so you may as well come out and kiss your uncle hello.”

Claudia wears a guilty expression as she saunters into the doorway. “Uncle.”

He turns to her, warmly kissing her forehead. “As beautiful and radiant as ever, cara.”

She looks at me over his shoulder, her face blank.

“Now, I really must be going, since it seems you aren’t even going to invite me for an espresso.”

Neither Claudia nor I say a word.

“So be it. Until next time.” Benito waves his hand and places a hat securely on his head.

“And, Enzo, it really is chilly this morning. Next time you have a girlfriend leave you, the least you can do is make sure she is properly dressed.”

Claudia’s eyes widen. I glare at Benito.

He laughs cheerily, clapping his hands together as he strolls out of the house, closing the door behind him.

Then I put my fist through another wall.

* * *

“Where did she go? What happened?” Claudia asks me quietly on the way back to Rome. She looks at me but I can’t read her expression with her dark sunglasses hiding her eyes.

I shrug. “Don’t want to talk about.”

“Oh, come on, Enzo. Maybe I can help.”

“Doubt it.”

Claudia huffs. She crosses her arms across her chest, her brightly polished fingernails tapping her arm in frustration. She looks out the window.

The car becomes deafeningly quiet, and I cringe, not liking this icy space between Claudia and me, even though it was here for years before slowly melting over the past few months.

“Fine.” I slam the heel of my hand against the steering wheel. I breathe out slowly. How much to reveal? I don’t want to betray Mia, even though she did leave my house without as much as a goodbye. Do I even owe her anything? I mean, who does that? Well, besides me with annoying women who expect fucking cuddles and an espresso in the morning.

Claudia waits me out.

“I saw her.” I pause. “She did something and I got angry, yelled at her a bit. She took off.” I look over at Claudia.

Thick, perfectly shaped eyebrows raise above her Versace frames. “Hence the hole in the bathroom.”

I narrow my eyes at her and turn my attention back to the road.

Claudia sighs heavily. “I’m sorry, Enzo. I really did like her. And I honestly would never expect this type of behavior from her. So who was it?”

“Who was what?”

Claudia laughs. “It’s sweet that you’re trying to protect her, even now, after everything.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Which one of your friends did she fuck?”

I brake so hard that both our necks strain against the seatbelts before slamming into the headrests. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Whoa.” Claudia breathes out shakily, one hand pressed against her heart. “Are you crazy? You scared the shit out of me!” she yells, punching me hard in the arm.

“What did you just say?” I whisper menacingly.

“Who did she sleep with?”

“No one!” I roar. “That’s what you thought? That my girlfr— that Mia hooked up with someone last night?”

Claudia pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, her eyes flashing. “What else did you see that got you so mad that you put your hand through a wall?”

I punch the steering wheel again, pain traveling up my arm from my knuckle on my ring finger. I think it’s broken. “She … Mia … she was throwing up.”

“Okay,” Claudia says slowly, as if she’s afraid to startle me. “So you’re angry because she drank too much and got sick?”

“What? No! She was making herself throw up, on purpose.” It comes out on an exhale, a secret leaked in the confines of the car.

Claudia’s eyes widen as she finally puts all the pieces together. “Jesus.” She whispers. “Enzo, that’s serious.” Claudia slinks down in her seat. “Poor Mia, she must have been so scared, so embarrassed when you saw her like that. You need to talk to her, Enzo. She needs help, guidance. She needs support. Not your temper.” She looks over at me. “This is important.”

I nod in agreement, knowing Claudia is right. I could curse myself for the way I handled things this morning, for the way I yelled at Mia, embarrassed her, forced her to shut me out. Fuck. Easing my foot off the clutch as I switch gears, we resume our ride in silence. But this time it’s a comfortable quiet.

Chapter Forty-Six

Mia

“We should talk.” Words that no girl ever wants to hear. Never ever. Particularly me. Especially in this moment.

I’ve been avoiding Lorenzo for nearly a week, ignoring his calls, not responding to his messages, giving up my study spot, even changing the route I take to school. How could I face him after everything he saw? I still can’t believe he’s here, standing in front of me, just inside the green door of Paola and Gianluca’s apartment. I watch as he shuffles his feet uncertainly. I guess I should just be grateful that no one else is home in this moment. No one is here to witness this devastating and embarrassing showdown. Well, there is that silver lining at least.

“Look, I know you’ve been avoiding Angelina’s.” Lorenzo tries again.

I should invite him in, shouldn’t I? You’re not supposed to have these serious, life-altering conversations on a doorstep, are you? Lila would know exactly how to handle this situation. I should have talked to her, but then I would have to tell her everything. Lila and Emma and Maura. Oh God, what are they all going to think of me?

“Mia.” Lorenzo’s knees bend a little, and I can tell he’s trying to lower himself in order to force me to make eye contact.

Why is this so hard?

And excruciatingly embarrassing?

Why is this my life?

Lorenzo sighs loudly. “Can I come in?” he finally asks.

I push the door open wider and step aside, noticing the bright blue laces in his dress shoes as he steps across the threshold and into the apartment.

Instantly I feel like I can’t breathe, as if Lorenzo has sucked all the oxygen from the room. My cheeks are on fire, burning and blushing and sticky hot. I feel my palms grow sweaty. Gah!

“Mia?” Lorenzo is watching me. I feel his gaze strong and steady on the top of my head.

Look up. Don’t look up. Look up. Don’t look up.

And then his shoes … they’re right in front of me.

“Mia.”

His hands, simultaneously rough and soft as they cup my cheeks, gently tug my head up to meet his eyes.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. In this moment I would rather the floor open up and swallow me whole (why is that not happening?) instead of behold the pity and disgust in a pair of blue eyes that somehow have the ability to see all the way to my soul. To all the ugly bits I keep hidden there.

“Mia, look at me,” Lorenzo says softly. He brings his forehead down to rest against my own. “Mi amore, please.” His voice sounds tortured.

But that word. Amore. Love. Oh my God. He called me his love.

Well, that has my eyes flying open. I stare incredulously as a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. His hands slide down my neck, my shoulders, so slowly. They graze my arms, his long fingers threading through my own. He pulls my arms back with his, nestling our hands into the small of my back. Then he kisses me. And it’s the sweetest, gentlest, most perfect kiss ever.

It’s full of compassion.

And understanding.

And forgiveness.