Enemies Abroad(27)

STOP, I want to shout. Go away. Leave me alone with my book and my peace.

“Pizza,” I say suddenly. Then words start pouring out of me. “He likes pizza. Skip the fancy dinner and just invite him to do something easy. Grab some cheap beer and sit outside and people-watch. He’ll love that.”

The pressure eases off my chest as she pushes up to stand. “Perfect! You’re a lifesaver. You’ll definitely be invited to the wedding,” she says with a laugh and a wink.

My stomach hurts.

I pick up my croissant and toy with it as I watch her navigate the tables and slice across the space to get to Noah. He’s in line, grabbing breakfast, and she walks right up to him with a megawatt smile. I convince myself I can read her lips, but really, I just pretend to know what she’s saying.

Let’s skip the restaurant and take it easy. Pizza on me?

Noah glances over his shoulder and finds me staring. Panic grips me.

I shift my attention down to my plate and count to ten in my head. When I look up again, Noah and Gabriella are smiling at each other, and whatever reservations he might have had about her are gone now. He picks up an apple, shines it on his shirt, and passes it to her with a little toss.

She laughs as she catches it and I stand up, take my things, and leave the dining hall.

Back in my room, I straighten up. Things that were already clean and tidy before get shifted one millimeter to the left or right, refolded, and wiped down. There. Perfect.

When I go to add more euros to my money belt, I find the crumpled list I confiscated from the girls yesterday.

“We were all surprised about Mr. Ricci asking you out because we thought you and Mr. Peterson were—”

I stuff the list into the trash and cover it with tissue for good measure.

Outside, the courtyard is quiet and relatively cool. A slight breeze blows the mist from a fountain in my direction and I convince myself it’s peaceful. Our students are in their Latin class, someone else’s problem for the rest of the morning. I have my book on my lap. I should open it and get back to where I left off at breakfast, but I’m staring at a group of sculptures instead. Or rather, I’m staring past them. I’m so deep in thought I don’t notice Noah until he’s taking a seat on the opposite end of my bench.

I don’t break my stare, and he doesn’t say a word.

We sit in companionable silence, like a referee has blown a whistle and called a time-out.

It should be disconcerting to sit here like this with him. I should have my guard up and weapons drawn anytime Noah and I are alone, but this morning, for once, I can’t seem to muster the effort. I’m a bloodied soldier on a battlefield with no fight left in me.

“Gabriella said you gave her your blessing to ask me out. It was your idea to go for pizza and beer.”

Well, well, well…Gabriella has quite the mouth.

“What was I supposed to do?”

Now there’s a question with a million answers.

Worried how he’ll spin it in his head…the potential conclusions he’ll draw, I quickly add, “She was going to take you somewhere pretentious. I should have just let her.”

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.