He doesn’t have a response to that, and finally the silence starts to eat at me.
I’m curious about his intentions with Gabriella and he seems to be in a sharing mood, so I flat-out ask, “Did you accept her offer?”
“We’re going out Friday.”
My body jerks like I’ve been stabbed in the gut, and I lean forward to push off my knees and stand. The time-out is officially over. What peace I had has been snuffed out.
“I can see it now,” I start with a sarcastic tone. “Gabriella and Noah take Rome: an Instagram series. She’s perfect for you.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I should have asked her out the second we got here.”
I turn and face him, my eyes alight with a brilliant idea. “You know what? We should go on a double date. You and Gabriella, me and Lorenzo.”
He mimes his head exploding and it’s clear he intends to call my bluff. “Absolutely. Saturday? We’ll have to see if Ashley will mind hanging back to chaperone for everyone.”
I wave away his concern. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. The security guard will be here too and we won’t stray far. There are plenty of restaurants right on this street even.”
My words are perfectly pleasant, but my tone screams at him to end this game.
It’s pure lunacy.
I can’t sit across from Noah through an entire dinner and behave myself. We’ll be at each other’s throats with butter knives before the appetizers make it to the table. There will be blood.
He stands and walks over, not stopping until we’re toe to toe. His brown eyes taunt me.
I hold my ground and tip my head back to look up at him. He leans down and my breath arrests in my chest. I’ve never stood like this in front of someone and not had them dip down for a kiss. My hands clench at my sides. My heart is doing its own little panic attack.
I wet my bottom lip, but I swear it’s only out of habit. Still, Noah brims over with delight.
“Looking forward to it, Cohen.” Then he curves around me and brushes my shoulder with his, leaving me reeling.
As the week goes on, I start to settle into daily life here in Rome. I enjoy having time to myself in the mornings while the kids are in Latin class, I eat most meals in the dining hall, and excursions around town in the afternoon are always interesting. On my own Wednesday morning, I find a delightful little bookstore with an orange tabby cat curled up and sleeping in the window. After browsing the aisles for a bit, I unload my precarious stack of books onto the counter and notice the display of jigsaw puzzles nearby, each one a different Roman site. On a whim, I grab one showcasing the Colosseum, and once I’m back at the school, I set it up on a big round table in the common room between the kids’ hallway and ours. I expect to have to do the whole thing myself, but eventually I tempt a few Lindale kids to join me Wednesday evening.
“But what’s the point?” Millie asks. “Why’s this fun? What’s the incentive?”
“Like is this supposed to be ironic or something?” Kylie asks.
“Just sit there and start puzzling. You’ll see.”
And they do. Before long, I have three of them working on it with me.
Thursday morning, when I return to the puzzle to work on it for a few minutes while the kids are in Latin, I find a huge swath of blue sky pieced together. When Noah strolls by the table a bit later on his way to his room, I swear he’s wearing a proud little smirk.
Lorenzo finds me there near lunch time on Thursday morning. He was going to meet friends, he tells me, but he cancels on them and decides to stay and hang out with me. It’s a sweet gesture and I enjoy his company. It’s easy to sit with him. He’s an open book, talkative and happy. He tells me about his friends, all the trouble they got into when they were younger. We talk more about his family and I tell him about mine. He can’t wrap his head around how it’s only the three of us—my dad, my mom, and me.
“I have so many uncles and aunts I don’t know what to do with them all. You should see all of my cousins together on holidays. We barely fit into the house.”
I smile. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
He nods and leans back. He’s not doing the puzzle. His feet are propped up on the table. His fingers are laced behind his head.
“So…when are you going to let me take you out again?” he asks, not the least bit nervous in his delivery.
I, of course, know the answer already. He’ll take me out again on Saturday, when we all go on a double date. I just…haven’t mentioned it to him yet.