Page 78 of Italy Can Bite Me

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

KATIE

GroupChat:CPKForever

Me:Help. I think I’ve become a sex addict.

Petra:FINALLY!! Details. Now. Every filthy one.

Cam:Our Katie? Getting some Italian action?

Me:Not just some. ALL the action.

Petra:YESSSS! Katie Sextravangza = SUCCESS.

Me:Multiple successes actually.

Cam:I’m officially living vicariously through your orgasms.

Petra:Jared who? More like Jared WHO CARES.

I CAN'T STOP SMILING.

My face is stuck in an I-just-won-the-Powerball-while-cuddling-puppies expression. I’m barely aware that I am sitting in the breakfast room of our Venice hotel—the croissant in front of me untouched—because I’m lost in the constant carousel of yesterday’s memories.

Bologna? I think we went to Bologna yesterday. I vaguely recall something about famous towers? Tortellini? Everything’s a delicious blur after that moment in the empty tour bus. While everyone else was admiring the architecture of some fancy church, Matteo was giving me a very different kind of religious experience in the last row.

He whispered, “Let go, bellissima” against my neck as I bit back a scream, trying not to alert the entire city to our escapade. And later, in his hotel room… well, let’s just say my very definition of perfection has been thoroughly and delightfully upended.

My thighs still ache in the most delicious way, and I’m pretty sure my underwear is on backwards. But hey, at least I remembered underwear today.

“Good morning, Katie-kins!” Aunt Deb’s voice cuts through my coitus-fueled haze like a trumpet. She floats into the eating area with Howie on her heels. Before I say anything, she squeals. “You had sex!”

“What? No!”

“Oh honey, I know that look. I invented that look.” She leans forward, eyes twinkling. “It was our devastatingly handsome tour guide, wasn’t it?”

My entire face ignites. “No! Of course not! What—why would you even say that?”

Deb gives me a knowing stare, then turns to Howie. “It was Matteo.”

“I don’t blame her,” Howie drawls, his smile slow and easy. “The fella’s like one of them models you’d see in a cologne commercial.”

“Thank you!” Deb says, gesturing at him as if he’s just proven her point.

“Oh my God,” I groan, sinking lower in my seat. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”

“Fine,” Deb says dramatically. “Let’s talk about my sex life. It’s more exciting than yours anyway.”

I scramble to redirect, my voice squeaky. “Howie, what exactly do you do? Or did, before retiring?”

Howie chuckles, amused by my awkward pivot. “I’m retired, Miss Katie. Used to be the CEO of Dixon’s Delights. Family business, four generations strong. We make those Butter Bliss Bars you kids grew up on and a few other sugary goodies.”

I gape at him. “I would trade my whole lunch—even on pizza day—to get one of those bars! You’re a candy legend!”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” His smile turns soft as he admires Deb. “These days, I take interest in the finer things in life. Like this magnificent lady right here.”

Deb fans herself dramatically. “You’ll have me swooning to death if you keep talking like that!”

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