Say Yes (Nostalgic Summer Romance)

“And I’m nervous,” I assessed, looking at the red on mine.

“Sounds pretty accurate.”

I laughed. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Hey! You’re getting better at this.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Have you had lampredotto yet?”

“Lampra-what?”

Liam’s smile grew. “Come on, this way.”

I followed him through the crowd a few stores down, but stopped short when I saw a strong glow at the end of all the shops. When Liam halted at a food cart, I kept walking, not slowing my step until I stood at the edge of the bridge where it met the other side of the river.

The sun was making its final descent, a golden ball of fire sinking behind the hills in the distance. The sky lit up with every shade of yellow and orange imaginable, the soft blue of dusk sneaking in on its tail. Every color reflected in the river, shimmering and majestic, and it was all I could do to just stand there in awe as lights slowly flickered on and brought on the nighttime sparkle of Florence.

The air seemed aglow, like there were soul particles floating and catching every ray of light.

Liam came up beside me, his eyes scanning the scenery, too.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

Liam nodded, and while my eyes stayed forward, his turned to me. “Your painting was even better.”

I blinked before meeting his gaze. “Did you not hear Professor Beneventi?”

“I did. And I think he’s wrong.” Liam shrugged. “What you created was stunning. I would hang that in the most-visited room in my house, if I had one.”

I smirked, looking down at my feet as my cheeks flushed. “Even if it was predictable, as he said?”

“Even so.”

I glanced at him, and in the soft hue of the setting sun, his normally dark eyes took on an entirely new shade, the rim of his pupils highlighted in gold, the irises outlined in a rim of black.

Liam watched me for a long moment before he nodded back toward the way we came. “Come on. We can’t continue until you try this.”

I followed him back to the food cart, which was bustling, and when it was our turn, he ordered us two panini con lampredotto and a Coke to split.

The next thing I knew, I was holding a soft roll stuffed with some sort of thinly sliced meat that was roughly the size of my head, and was dripping more juice than the wrapper it came in could contain.

“Um. I think I’ll need some napkins,” I said, staring at the sandwich. It did smell divine, something spicy and herbal finding my nose as I stared at the beast and tried to figure out how best to attack it.

Liam grabbed a stack from the vendor, and then we took a seat at one of the small tables nearby with two metal chairs on either side.

“My mother would be horrified to see me even attempting to eat this without a fork and knife and napkin on my lap,” I commented, staring at the sandwich.

“Don’t think too much about it. You’re going to get messy,” Liam said, holding his own up to demonstrate. “Just open wide and go for it.”

He took a monstrous bite, the juices and some sort of salsa dripping down his chin as his eyes rolled back and he groaned his approval.

“Ohmahgah, issogoo.”

I chuckled, turning my attention back to the pile of meat sandwiched between two thick rolls in my hand. “Here goes nothing,” I said mostly to myself, and then I followed Liam’s lead and took a giant bite.

Flavor burst in my mouth, the tender meat juicy and delicious. Whatever spices they used gave it a hint of heat, but something else cooled it, leaving me with nothing but flavor.

And Liam snapped a picture before I had the chance to wipe the juices off my chin.

I smacked him with my mouth still full, and he barked out a laugh, putting the camera away and waiting for my verdict.

After I swallowed and took a sip of soda, I shook my head. “Wow. This is good. What is it?”

“Tastes like childhood, doesn’t it?” Liam asked, going after another bite.

I chuckled. “Well, my childhood was more baked salmon and roasted Brussel sprouts, but I get what you’re saying.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Georgia. A little northwest of Savannah.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t live off barbecue and fried green tomatoes,” he said. “And that you don’t have more of an accent.”

“My mom does, but my dad moved to Georgia from Minnesota, so he’s got an entirely different way of speaking. I guess I kind of got a mix of the two. And I went to undergrad in Arizona, so I was exposed to all kinds of languages.” I paused. “I feel like I’m sort of like a sponge. When I’m around my mom, my accent is stronger. When I was at school, I sort of talked like whoever I was hanging with. It’s like I hear the accents and slang others use and pick up on it.”