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

“We’re here on holiday.”
    I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It’s really just too easy. “How are you finding Rome?”
    “Better now that I found you.” She smiles, trailing a finger along my chest, down my stomach, her hand settling on my belt.
    I smirk. Why even bother with the banter? Let’s just cut to the chase. “Want to get out of here?”
    She nods, letting me place my hand on the swell of her ass as I steer us toward the exit.
    I can feel Sandro’s eyes on my back, laughing.
    Oh well, it’s a quick fix for my shit mood anyway.
    * * *
    The next morning, the shrill ring of my phone wakes me early. Fuck. I roll over in bed, picking up the phone and blinking at the screen. Matteo. From the vineyards. That’s strange. Why the hell is he calling so early? And on a Sunday?
    I sit up in bed and cough, trying to clear the sleep from my throat. “Pronto,” I answer right before voicemail picks up.
    “Lorenzo. It’s Matteo.”
    “How are you?”
    “Good, thanks. How are you? How are Elenora and Claudia?” He asks about my mama and sister politely.
    “Everyone’s doing well, thanks. All okay by you?” I rub my hand over my face, a slight sting pricking my neck. Craning my head, I glance in the mirror. A hickey. That fucking bitch gave me a hickey. What am I, twelve? I roll my eyes. “Matteo?” I prompt after a long stretch of silence.
    “Ah, we need to talk Lorenzo. Something’s not adding up,” he answers.
    Again? First Giuseppe, now Matteo. What the fuck is going on? “What do you mean?”
    “The budget. Everything seems out of whack. The numbers aren’t adding up,” he clarifies.
    I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You think someone’s skimming off the top or it’s too big of a discrepancy?”
    Matteo sighs. “I’m not sure. But it is a pretty big difference.”
    “Get Giuseppe to look into it and get back to me.”
    “Okay,” he agrees.
    “Thanks for letting me know, Matteo. Just see what you can uncover. I’ll head over to you guys sometime next week if necessary.”
    “Thanks, Enzo.”
    “Give me a call back when you know something.”
    “Will do.” He clicks off.
    I toss the phone down and lie back in bed. What a shit way to start a Sunday.
    A fucking hickey.

Chapter Twelve
    Mia
    Even though I hardly moved for the remainder of the weekend, I’m still mildly hungover for my first day of Italian Literature. All of my other courses began last week, but Italian Literature was postponed as our professor was still on holiday. Luckily, today will be a syllabus day, so I’ll still have a light workload this week. Sitting in class, waiting for the professor to arrive, I send a quick text to the girls.
    Me: Tequila is no joke.
    For good measure, I include the emoji of the little monkey covering his eyes. And the pukey face.
    Moments later, Lila texts back the smiley face that’s laughing so hard it’s crying. In fact, she sends three of them. Emma responds with five thumbs-up emojis. I’m sure they’re proud.
    I smile, tucking my phone back into my backpack. I’m excited about this class. It’s in Italian, but unlike the previous language courses I’ve taken, this one is on an actual subject, not just grammar and conversation. This semester, we will be reading and discussing the great literary works of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio. In Italian. Although I’ve already read Dante’s Il Inferno in English, I haven’t read it in Italian. And I haven’t studied Petrarch or Boccaccio at all. I’m delighted at the opportunity, especially after I read several Petrarch quotes in my mom’s old journals. Her favorite one was part of a sonnet from Petrarch’s Canzoniere . It was written on the inside cover of several leather-clad notebooks.
    A rain of flowers descended
    (sweet in the memory)
    from the beautiful branches into her lap,
    and she sat there
    humble amongst such glory,
    covered now by the loving shower.
    A flower fell on her hem,
    one in her braided blonde hair,
    that