Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) by Gina Azzi Read Free Book Online Page A

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 with 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.
    I’m tempted to say “it’s real,” but then Sandro shoots me a look. I reluctantly switch gears, assuming my usual role as the charmer.
    “Where are you ladies from?” I ask, furrowing my brow. Even though their British accents are a dead fucking giveaway.
    “The UK,” Anna replies, stepping even closer.