The Italian

“I couldn’t wait.”

I stare at him, looking all perky and like he’s had a million hours sleep, while I look like roadkill. “I’m not ready. I just woke up.”

“That’s fine.” He smirks and bounces on his toes. “I can wait.”

I glance around my messy room. “Give me a moment.”

I slam the door shut in his face and run like a mad woman, stuffing all of my things back into my suitcase. I glance down at myself wearing only panties and a singlet. This won’t do. I throw on a dress, and I run into the bathroom to brush my teeth, while trying my hardest to wipe the mascara from under my eyes.

He couldn’t wait.

A thrill runs through me, and I smile as I brush my teeth with vigor. I rush back out and see a pair of panties that have fallen out of my suitcase. I pick them up and quickly stuff them under my pill

ow.

Right.

I drop my shoulders as I try to calm myself down before I open the door, acting completely calm.

Rico smiles knowingly. “Hello.”

“Hi.” I smirk. God, he really is delicious. “Please, come in.”

He walks past me and looks around my room.

“You do know it’s 8:34, right?” I mutter dryly.

“I do.” He stands, not knowing where to sit. He’s wearing blue jeans that fit snug to his thighs and a white T-shirt. His dark hair is messed up, and his big red lips are completely kissable. He’s basically sex on legs.

“We only went to bed five hours ago. Why are you looking all perky?” I gesture to his gorgeousness.

He drops his hands to his hips. “Perky? What is that word?”

I scratch my nest-hair. “Eager.”

His eyes dance with mischief. “I am eager. I thought we could have breakfast together.”

I stare at him, unsure if a date with someone who has this much energy this early is really a wise thing. “I have to shower first. Do you want to go and get a coffee or something? I’ll be about twenty minutes.”

“No. I’ll wait.” He drops to sit on my bed.

I stare at him. I need to dig through my suitcase to try and find the perfect outfit, and I have no idea how to do that while he’s sitting there watching me.

“Umm.” I glance over at my suitcase.

“I’ll wait out on the balcony, shall I?”

“Yes,” I say, relieved. “Do that.” I open the door, and he walks out. He sits down at the small table overlooking the street. “Play with your phone or something,” I tell him.

Delight dances in his eyes as he watches me. “Okay.”

I walk back into the room and unzip my suitcase, what I really want to do is do a handstand on my bed or something.

Holy shit, is this really happening?

I rustle through my clothes—all crumpled and messy. Why don’t I have something ironed, for fuck’s sake? What will I wear?

“What are we doing today?” I call.