When in Rome (When in Rome, #1)

by Sarah Adams

“I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it.” —Audrey Hepburn

cataclysmic.

Why do I feel an instant connection to him? There’s something inside me, tugging me closer to him, begging me to raise my hand to his chest and run my hand over his soft cotton tee. He’s not moving. I’m not moving.

It’s not that Harriet is grumpy because she doesn’t like people—it’s that she’s nearly 100 percent certain she’s better than most people.

“Have you never loved something just for what it means to you?”

“You’re so pretty,” he says, without a slur but words heavy with sleep. “And you sing like an angel, too.”

I fall asleep to the smell of Noah’s cologne and the misplaced hope that one day we’ll kiss again.

“Everyone thinks you’re pretty. You know this.” She doesn’t let me off the hook. “But do you?”

“I always mean what I say.”

“But just so you know, I think you’re pretty, too.”

I want to know him.

We make eye contact and he doesn’t smile at first, but the longer he looks at me, his lips start to rise in the corners like he just can’t help himself. And all at once, I think maybe my chances aren’t hopeless after all.

“Dammit,” he whispers and then looks at me one more time. “You look very pretty.” I feel a smile in my soul before it reaches my lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “It is for me.”

“I missed you.” My laughter stops. My heart skips. My lips part. But before I can respond, he adds, “But you’re still a pain in my ass.”

“But how come you got to take your clothes off first and keep them nice and dry, but I didn’t?” His eyes darken when they fix on me. “I think you already know the answer to that question.” Because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off me. Because this heat I’ve been feeling between us is not one-sided.

I’ve been dreaming of kissing you again.

It’s the kind of cry you hold off as long as you can, pretending you don’t see the need for it even though it’s glaring you right in the face. And then one day, your emotions break, and anger dissolves into frustrated tears that won’t quit until your pillow is soaked through.

wanton.

All I want is you.”

For the rest of the night, we’re lost together as Noah proves that I am all he wants.