I think that’s as bad as it can get, but it turns out the real issue with turning off my alarm isn’t the accidental phone call to my mom—it’s that we majorly oversleep. When I finally check my phone sometime later, I realize we’ve nearly missed breakfast. Food’s not the issue—I could get a bagel down the street—but it’s my day to take the kids to the farmer’s market since I didn’t get to go last week. If I don’t show my face soon, they’ll come looking for me, and that would be the absolute worst-case scenario.
Uh, kids…Mommy and Daddy are…wrestling. COME BACK LATER.
“Noah, we have to get up. We have to.”
He’s sleeping on his stomach, completely exhausted. When I shake him, he groans and rolls over, tucking me deeper into his side.
“The kids are going to come looking for us and what’s our excuse going to be for why you’re in my room—NAKED?”
That does the trick.
He sits up and rubs his eyes, blinking against the bright morning sunlight seeping in through my window. I get momentarily waylaid processing the sight of him like this. Tan, naked, gorgeous. His hair is fantastic and mussed up and I can’t resist the urge to kiss him. Just once.
“No. No more!” I chide myself, pushing my body up and out of bed.
Noah doesn’t move a muscle as I run around my room naked, trying to get my stuff together so I can go take a shower.
“Are you going to move?”
“Sure. In a minute,” he says with a devil’s smile.
“Argh!”
When we stroll into the dining hall half an hour later, it feels like every head swivels in our direction. They know. How could they know?
For starters, Noah and I never walk into breakfast together. It probably looks suspicious that we’re hip to hip with our hands nearly brushing, so I decide to slow my pace and fall back, but then so does he, so I speed up past him. He does too. We look insane.
“Just—okay. Just go. I’m trying to—”
Forget it.
We get in line to get our food and Noah looks at me, practically telegraphing his thoughts with his bedroom eyes.
Remember this morning when you were straddling me? That was fun, wasn’t it?
I jab him with my rolled cutlery. “Keep going down the line, will you? Stop smiling.”
The cook eyes Noah with suspicious annoyance and only gives him one measly slice of bacon that’s been burned to a crisp. Meanwhile, I get a plate full of everything they have to offer. A breakfast fit for a queen.
Noah flicks his bacon, disappointed, and I assure him he can have most of my food.
“What should we do? Sit at different tables?” Noah asks.
“I don’t know. Let’s just…play it cool. We can sit together, right? Adults sit together all the time.”
At a table near the windows, Gabriella and Ashley are picking at the last of their food and finishing their coffees. They smile when they see us approach.
“Hey, you two! We were wondering when you were going to show your faces. Noah, Lorenzo was looking for you. He wants to know if you’re still up for playing soccer today with the kids.”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll try to find him after I eat.”
Gabriella leans toward me. “So where did you two go off to last night? Were you together?”
I scoff and look anywhere but her. “Together? No. I mean—”
“Yes,” Noah says, simply.
A schoolgirl giggle escapes my lips. Lord help me.
“Thanks for taking over our duties, by the way,” Noah tells them.
Gabriella shrugs. “It was no problem. The kids were fine. In bed by 10. I think the Vatican really took it out of them. So…you two went out? To dinner?”
“Uh-huh,” I say before stuffing my mouth with food so I don’t reveal too much. I’m already blushing from head to toe. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to discover why.
“And you had a good time? No one suffered any injuries?” Ashley teases.
I do have aches and pains, but not because of dinner. A steamy sex scene montage runs through my head. Noah’s hands gripping my waist. My mouth on his. Curling toes. Happy endings.
“Your hair is a little messed up,” Ashley points out.
“Oh. Is it?”
I try to flatten it down with a few swipes of my hand.
“Yeah, and I think your mascara’s smeared.”
It’s Noah’s fault. He pounced on me after I got back from getting ready in the bathroom. It was only a harmless make-out session and I didn’t think to check my reflection afterward, but now I obviously regret that.
“Thanks.”
I take huge gulps of my coffee, both because I need the caffeine after last night and because the sooner I finish this meal, the sooner I can be free of these questions.
Noah—smartly—pretends he hasn’t been paying attention to the last part of our conversation.
The first chance I have to come up for air, away from Noah, is when I set off with the group of students for the market. Noah and I leave St. Cecilia’s at the same time, heading in different directions.
I look over my shoulder and give him a little wave.
When I turn back around, Kylie is smiling cockily, like she’s just solved her case. I let her enjoy her victory.
When we arrive, the farmer’s market is already bustling with people, but it’s lacking the usual madness we’ve experienced at other tourist spots in Rome. Everyone seems content to be enjoying their Sunday morning, strolling slowly along with no real goal in mind. The sun is still creeping up overhead, half-blocked by a building so that we can enjoy the shade and slightly cooler temperatures while we’ve got them. The crowd is dense enough that I keep a close watch on my small group of Lindale girls, but they’re not prone to wander. We stick together, sampling every bit of cheese and fruit we can get our hands on. I buy us a few sandwiches on freshly baked ciabatta bread and then we stop to peruse a table filled with dainty jewelry.
The artisan is selling beaded bracelets that only cost five euros each, so I can’t resist buying the girls matching ones.
“Four please,” I say, holding up the cash.
“Five,” Lizzy insists, grabbing one more of the bracelets. “You need one too!”
My little teacher heart grows three sizes.