After dinner that night, I found myself in Lorenzo's bedroom again. I had already cleaned his room twice, but Lorenzo still hadn't appeared.
It wasn't like I was waiting for him. Far from it. I was enjoying my own company. But sometimes being alone by myself scared me and I preferred to have him here with me, even though we bickered all the time.
But then again, I was also grateful he didn't show up, because that dream was still vivid in my head, and whenever I closed my eyes, I could see him kissing me, making love to me, and then my whole body would rush up in heat.
It was absolutely unbelievable. I'd never experienced this sensation before. Throughout all my twenty-one years of life, I had many men hit on me, and some even went so far as to kiss me, but my body had never reacted the same way as when Lorenzo had touched me.
I just wished I would stop seeing him. Or missing him.
Was this why I was in his bedroom again? How many times had I been here? I lost count.
