<h4>Chapter 252: Chapter 252 : Summer In the City</h4>


    *Olivia*


    For the entire, miserable night, I stewed in my attraction to Giovani. I imagined running into him in the kitchen or by the swimming pool. I’d be all cute in my skimpy bikini, and he’d secretly check me out behind his sunsses. I’d entice him into the pool, and he’d press himself against me to show that he was just as attracted to me as I was to him.


    That didn’t happen, though. In fact, I didn’t see him at all after we’d met in the living room. It was like he was a ghost. I was sure he’d held my hand in his, that his eyes were a rich chocte brown with flecks of gold and green, but my memory couldn’t preserve his image enough to convince me he was real.


    If Dahlia hadn’t mentioned him, I would have been sure he was a figment of my imagination.


    “Giovani gave us the best rooms in the house!” she said excitedly when we’d finally left his presence and went to our rooms to unpack.


    I couldn’t disagree with her assessment. Our rooms were next to each other, both looking out over therge pool and beautiful backyard. We each had a small balcony and billowing curtains that blew in the gentle breeze. We also each hadrge, California king beds covered in thin linens.


    To my American chagrin, there was no air conditioning in the vi, as Dahlia called it. Sheughed at my difort and told me I’d get used to it.


    “We’re not American turistas,” she reminded me. “We don’t mind the summer heat!”


    Iughed at her theatrics, but gratefully changed into my bikini the second she suggested it. That first day, we lounged by the pool and ate delicious food brought to us by waiters. A house with waiters! What a life we were living.


    The next morning, though, Dahlia was chomping at the bit to get out of the house. She burst into my room not muchter than sunrise, pulling my sheets down and screaming at me to get out of bed. We weren’t wasting our first full day in Florence catching up on our sleep.


    “But I’m tired,” Iined. “Jetg is a real thing, Dahlia!”


    She rolled her eyes as she walked over to my recently unpacked closet and pulled out a sundress. She threw it at me and barked at me to get up.


    “The only way to beat jetg is to stay awake through the tiredness,” she said matter-of-factly. “If you stay in bed, your body will never adjust!”


    I knew on some level she was right, and I hoped we’d run into Giovani on our way out, but we had no such luck. We were driven into the heart of the city and dropped off at a small café where we ordered cappinos and warm croissants.


    We sat at a table outside overlooking the cobbled roads. Florence was an old, beautiful city. Hundreds of thousands of people flocked here every single year to take in the ancient architecture and history. And here we were, enjoying it at our leisure, on no one’s schedule but our own.


    Dahlia sighed contentedly.


    “This is what life is supposed to be, Olive,” she told me.


    I couldn’t agree more. A girl could really get used to these easy, unhurried mornings. If we were still in high school, we’d already be three sses into the school day, not taking into consideration the time zone change, of course.


    Here, though, we got to sitzily in the sun, soaking in the rays. We had no agenda today except to explore. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that we weren’t allowed to go anywhere remotely touristy. I reminded her that, unlike her, this was my first time in Florence, but she waved at me in a bored gesture.


    “Trust me, Olive, there will be time to take in the sights. Especially during the off-season,” she exined. I couldn’t imagine this ce ever had an off-season. “Today’s goal,” she exined, “is to be real Italian citizens. Live as the Romans do, so to speak.”


    “Except that we’re in Florence,” I pointed out.


    We giggled, feeling silly from the rush of the cappinos. They were at least ten times stronger than anything I’d had at an American chain. From my understanding, Italians drank coffee from sunup to sundown. Based on the way my heart was already hammering in my chest, I knew I’d need to learn to pace myself.


    “What should we do then, Dolly?” I asked, drawing her attention away from an attractive cyclist.


    She looked at me, her eyes wide.


    “I honestly have no idea,” she giggled. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just knew if we stayed in the house, we’d never leave!”


    We walked the streetszily, flittering in and out of shops. Eventually, our aimlessness brought us to our future university. Dahlia looped her arm through mine.


    “Should we go in?” she asked seriously. “Pretend like we already own the ce?”


    I shrugged.


    “Knowing you, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn your family does own the ce,” Iughed.


    She huffed and pulled me with her as we walked onto the campus. It was unlike any of the campuses we’d toured back in the States. The students here didn’t look like they were here just to get drunk and hit on each other. They dressed more professionally and kept their heads down.


    We were walking toward one of the vast, historic looking buildings when a man almost hit Dahlia with his scooter. She cursed at him in Italian, but she stopped short when he took off his helmet and she saw his face.


    I understood the reactionpletely. I’d had the exact same one when I met Giovani. I just hoped I hadn’t been this obvious, or Dahlia would definitely want to sit me down and have “the talk” with me. No, it wasn’t the “sex” talk, it was the “don’t have sex with my cousin” talk. And I didn’t want to have it, because until she specifically forbade me from seeing him, I could at least fantasize about it.


    The man introduced himself to her as Lorenzo, barely sparing me a nce. This was how it usually was in Dahlia’s presence. It wasn’t that I wasn’t beautiful, but she was such a stunning girl it was hard topete in her presence. Her long, honey-colored hair fell delicately over her shoulders and her own sundress hugged her curves perfectly.


    Neither of us missed the way Lorenzo’s eyes raked down her body. She smiled at him flirtatiously and held out her hand. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. Of course, she met someone within twenty-four hours of usnding here. That was Dahlia in a nutshell.


    “Do you attend?” she asked him in Italian. “My friend and I start in August.”


    He smiled brightly and nodded,menting on how good her Italian was.


    “You’re a natural,” he told her, moving closer to her and touching her arm.


    I wondered if he’d be as impressed if she were actually Italian. After all, this guy probably met Italian girls all the time. Dahlia was only exotic to him because she was so clearly American, despite how much she tried to fit in.


    “We both speak Italian fluently,” I interjected.


    He looked to me slowly, as if just noticing I was there. Yep, that was the Dahlia effect.


    “Pardon me,” he answered in Italian. “But we must go out to lunch! My treat. I almost hit you with my moped. The least I can do is take you two lovely women to lunch!”


    Dahlia blushed and nodded, and I just sighed heavily. I knew that I was just the tagalong friend in this scenario, but there was no way I was going to let my best friend go out to eat with some random guy.


    He parked his scooter, and we walked a few blocks down to a small, hole-in-the-wall eatery that sold pizza. I wanted to resent the food, but it was delicious, and he wasn’t bad after the whole almost killing my friend incident.


    He offered to show us around the city and be our personal tour guide. He told us if there was anything we needed at all, he was our guy. I expected Dahlia to jump in that she was already familiar with the city and wouldn’t need anything from him, but of course, she didn’t. She smiled and gave him her number so they could stay in contact.


    We walked back to the campus together, and he bowed deeply, grabbing her hand and kissing it. She blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. And he was so close to winning me over. What a cheese ball.


    As we left, she texted our driver where to meet us so we could head back to thepound. She gushed over Lorenzo the whole ride home, and I humored her because I wanted to be a good friend.


    “He was so handsome, right?” she said excitedly. Her face was still flushed from their interactions.


    “I guess,” I shrugged. “He wasn’t really my type.”


    She looked at me skeptically.


    “Olivia,” she started. She only used my full name when she wanted me to pay special attention. “A man who looks like that is everyone’s type.”


    “Maybe,” I said. “But he clearly only had eyes for you. I make it a habit not to find guys attractive when I know they’re interested in you–for the sake of our friendship,” I said,ying it on thick. I even ced my hand over my heart for effect.


    It was no surprise that she rolled her eyes and gave me the finger.


    “Do you really think he liked me?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.


    It was my turn to roll my eyes. I turned to her and squeezed her knee in reassurance.


    “Of course! That was the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life,” I told her. “And he didn’t eat a single bite of it because he was too busy looking at you.”


    She leaned against the back of the seat and squealed.


    “This is just the beginning, Olive,” she sighed happily. “It’s all really happening for us!”


    It was all happening for her, but I didn’t want to correct her or bring down her happy mood. I wasn’t even offended that Lorenzo was more attracted to her than me. I had much bigger problems, like the fact that I hadn’t stopped thinking about her cousin since I’d met him.


    When we got back to thepound, he was nowhere to be found. We were served a delicious stew for dinner and all the wine we could possibly drink. We stumbled up to our bedrooms, exhausted from our day and giddy from the wine.


    But sleep didn’te to me easily. Instead, I tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours, unable to quiet my mind. I wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of the day or knowing that Giovani had to be somewhere in this house. Curiosity finally got the best of me, and I got up.


    We’d been given free roam of the house but hadn’t had the time or energy to explore it all. Besides, Dahlia had been here before. Exploring wasn’t as exciting to her as it was to me. I wandered aimlessly down the hallways, sticking my head into any room with a door open.


    There were several guest rooms besides ours, all equally beautiful, though they didn’t have the same views. There was a stunning library that had to be full of thousands of books. I would definitely being back there during our stay. I found a game room with a pool table and a video console.


    But every room was devoid of the one thing I was looking for.


    And then, as if an answer to prayer, Giovani came walking down a hallway. He stopped short when he saw me, and I instantly felt myself growing wet. I didn’t know what this interaction might hold, but at least I knew, without a doubt, that I hadn’t made him up.