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lip instead and look
away.
    Raphael steps closer.
    I look back, and my heart catches in my throat to see the expression
in his eyes. Raw and hungry, a mirror of the desire clawing at my
body. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I gaze back, powerless to
look away.
    Raphael reaches out his hand, and touches his index finger to a lock
of hair that’s fallen free around my face. I shiver, suddenly
too caught up to even breathe, reveling in the soft touch as he
slowly pushes it back behind my ear.
    Oh...
    The soft touch slowly ripples through my entire body. My nipples
tighten. Heat pools between my thighs. I don’t understand the
spell he’s cast over me, how one minute I feel perfectly
normal, and the next, it’s like I’ve leapt off a tall
building, in total free-fall towards the ground—loving every
second of it.
    All I know, is I want more.

Eight.
     
     
    “Raphael!” Suddenly, there’s a loud, male yell.
    My eyes fly open and Raphael jerks back as another guy barrels into
the tiny room. He embraces Raphael with a hearty slap on the back,
talking a mile a minute in expressive Italian as he clatters around
the tiny space: finding a bottle opener, pouring glasses of red wine,
tearing off a hunk of bread from the loaf on the counter.
    My heart races. Holy crap, that was close. I almost kissed a man I’ve
known all of five minutes.
    Screw kissing, you nearly dropped your panties and begged him to
take you.
    Finally, the guy sees me.
    “ Chi è questa? ” He asks Raphael, raising
his eyebrow in a suggestive look.
    Raphael looks embarrassed. “Annalise, this is my friend, Luca.
Luca, Annalise is an American student here. She saw us perform
today.”
    “Pleasure to meet you.” Luca brushes crumbs off his shirt
and shakes my hand enthusiastically. “Apologies for the show,
Gianni was so hung-over, he could barely walk straight.”
    “That’s where I’ve seen you!” I exclaim,
recognizing him. “You did the hip-hop show. It was great!”
    “Aww, don’t flatter him.” Raphael laughs. “His
head is already big enough.” He ruffles Luca’s hair
affectionately.
    “You know what they say,” Luca smirks. “Big head,
big—”
    Raphael gets him in a headlock before he can finish. The two
roughhouse playfully, and I leap back to get out of their way.
There’s an easy camaraderie between them, and at first I wonder
if they’re brothers. But up close, I can see, they look nothing
alike. Where Raphael is dark, Luca is all sunny blue eyes and a large
Roman nose, shorter than Raphael, his build athletic and stocky
against Raphael’s tall, muscular grace.
    As the guys keep wrestling, another girl edges into the small space.
“Luca!” she barks impatiently, shoving them aside as she
goes to the refrigerator. They break apart, laughing. As Luca speaks
in Italian to the girl, I realize it’s Raphael’s partner
from the performance: the gorgeous dark-haired girl. Tonight, she
looks just as stunning, wearing skintight black jeans and a loose
silk blouse, her lips stained with matte plum lipstick and her long
hair tousled and sexy.
    Right away, I feel like I’m fifteen years old, playing dress-up
at a college party. My denim skirt and plain top seem ugly in
comparison, especially now that I’m standing here in my damp
camisole, my wet shirt tied around my waist.
    “Hey,” Raphael interrupts Luca and the girl. “Speak
English.”
    “Rafa’s made a friend,” Luca tells the girl,
grinning.
    The girl doesn’t reply, she just saunters towards me and takes
a long sip of wine, her eyes flicking over me from head to toe. She
says something in Italian, but I catch one of the words. Bella ...
    That means beautiful, doesn’t it? I wonder as she gives me one
final look. “We’re all outside,” she tells Raphael,
stroking her hand down his arm as she sashays back out.
    It’s a possessive gesture, and I’d get the message even
if she didn’t shoot me a final look on her way past. My hopes
come crashing down. I was