Read Online Roman Crazy by Alice Clayton, Nina Bocci - Free Book Online Page B

again with your fingers and I’ll promise never to hit you again with a pillow. And no, not too soon. And yes”—I covered my face with my hands, knowing I must have been blushing every shade of red—“the fucking was magic.”
    â€œI knew it!” she cried, kicking up her heels. “I always knew that man had to be killer in the sack; just look at him! I mean, I’m not interested in him, we’ve only ever been just friends, but come on! You just know a guy that looks like that knows how to hit it!”
    â€œOh he hit it,” I admitted, still blushing, but determined to give Marcello his due. “I mean, I’d only been with Daniel, who was always quite nice in bed, you know, but this guy. This guy was . . .” I paused, trying to put it into words.
    â€œWhat, what? This guy was what? Huge? Awesome? A freak? What?”
    This. This is what was missing last time. I never got to squeal and scream and laugh and giggle over Marcello with my girlfriends because as far as my girlfriends were concerned, he never existed. Somehow, getting to talk about this now even all these years later reminded me that what had happened was real, it was tangible.
    But how could I describe Marcello in bed? I’d need hours to recount all the wonderfully filthy things he’d done to me, and encouraged me to do to him. How he’d made me gasp, moan, groan, and cry . . . all in the same moment.
    â€œ. . . talented,” I finally finished, keeping most of it for myself and letting Daisy draw whatever conclusions she wanted from that.
    â€œI love it, I fucking love it!” She bit into her pastry with gusto, little bits of powdered sugar blowing this way and that as she chewed. “So were you together the entire time you were there?”
    I nodded. “Pretty much. We were practically inseparable, and naked a lot of the time. Don’t get me wrong, we were enjoying everything that Spain had to offer, but we were also enjoying each other, too. A lot.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, I get it. This story really makes me regret spending that summer working with my dad at the accounting office. Continue,” she teased, and sipped more coffee. “How did you leave things with him when you left Barcelona? Is he why you came home early?”
    â€œKind of. My advisor called, a call I’d been dodging since I’d been spending so much time out of the program and in bed with Marcello, but it turned out to be a great call. Here I thought I’dbe in trouble for skipping classes and hurrying through assignments, when the truth was, what I’d been turning in had been some of my best work yet. Something about that time in Barcelona, even though a lot of it felt like playtime, actually focused me, made the time I spent in the studio super sharp. And somebody saw something in the work I was doing, and just like that . . . I got an offer to intern at the museum back home.”
    â€œRight, that’s right, at the Gardner!” Daisy cried, her face scrunched up as she put all the pieces together. “And when you came home you were all tanned and glorious and gypsied out and you were talking about traveling for the rest of your life and wanting to get your master’s at that university in Italy and boy did that piss Daniel off but then . . . wait a minute.”
    Her voice trailed off, still putting puzzle pieces together. I watched and waited as understanding came over her face. “Daniel.”
    â€œYep, Daniel. Once I was home and settled in, well, that path was pretty well set.”
    â€œAnd Marcello—”
    â€œMarcello was still in Barcelona. Waiting for me.” I blinked, feeling my throat begin to close up a bit, a lump forming. “Daniel, not my parents, had picked me up from the airport when I flew home. Daniel, the golden boy I’d left behind when I went off to Spain. Daniel, the boyfriend I truly