Let’s Continue the Juiciness, Shall We?

Remember how I went on that date with two Italian men and ended up switching dates by the end of the meal? Well, as alluded to in that blog post, there was some more that happened that night, but I was feeling uncomfortable writing about it. Not sure why, but all of a sudden, I’ve decided that I’m not going to censor myself anymore. If I’m going to do this personal blog thing, I’m going to go all the way. So, here’s the part I didn’t write about. And, well, let’s be real here, the most interesting part.

So, G (my non-original date), who is now going to be called Luca* wants to take a taxi with me to my apartment. He’s attempting to be gentleman-like about it with some nonsense about wanting to get me home safe, but WHO ARE WE KIDDING? In my head, I make the conscious decision that, yes, I am completely okay with this situation, because I’m in freaking Italy and who really cares?

We get in the taxi and he’s asking me if I’m in love with him, because, apparently, he’s in love with me. (Note: there was no wine abused in the making of this story. Seriously.) He’s sweet talking me and I’m trying to be coy, but he keeps asking me questions that I don’t have answers to and all of a sudden, he goes, “So, when you’re in love with someone, how would you show them that you love them?”

“Hang out with them?” I’m smooth, clearly.

“Okay, what else?”

“I’d kiss them.”

“Yes! Yes! That! Let’s do that.”

To which I pretend to think, trying to be somewhat coquettish, and say simply, “Okay,” with a nonchalant shrug.

And, all of a sudden, he grabs me and kisses me, right there in the taxi. Part of me is all, JAMIE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING YOU ARE A LADY! While, the other part of me is all, SCREW IT THIS IS FUN. Fun Jamie, clearly, overrides Smart Jamie.

So, we continue to kiss in the taxi for probably the entire 20 minutes it takes to get to my apartment. He asks me if he can come up to my place for a little bit and, let’s just stop there and I will tell you that I do NOT do this. I mean, in college, yeah, but college is COLLEGE. But, letting some random Italian dude into my apartment who wasn’t even my date TO BEGIN WITH is a little outside of what I consider normal Jamie behavior, but you know what? I DID IT FOR THE BLOG. You’re welcome.

Well, I didn’t do IT, IT. Just so we’re clear on THAT.

Anyways. We go out onto my terrace and there’s this amazing view and he starts kissing me again. And, in my head, I’m thinking, “VICTORY! I’m breaking this apartment in! YES!” Because, really, when I saw this terrace for the first time, I was all, “Okay, Universe, here’s what’s up: You need to bring me some adorable guy for me to kiss up here, otherwise I will feel as though I have personally offended this terrace by not having something romantic and hot happen up in here. Mmmkay? Thanks.”

So, we pull away from the kisses and he starts kissing my ears and how does every guy know this is totally a SPOT!? It’s so unsuspecting, but totally amazing and I get goosebumps on my arms and Luca is all, “Well, I guess I found what you like.”

YA THINK?

Then, there is more kissing and I’m pushed up against my very high coffee table and I sort of worry a bit that we’re going to break something in the apartment that isn’t mine and I think at some point I die of hotness and then, somehow, we’re back outside because the temperature has risen inside of my apartment (weird!) and wow, that was a long sentence.

We’re outside, looking at the view and talking, taking a breather, ya know. And, for some reason, I get this funny idea to ask him if he has a girlfriend.

“Well, I have a girl that I see, but I don’t really like to call her my girlfriend.” [cocks head] Huh?

“Ok, what about this? Would this girl be upset if she knew what was happening right now?”

“Yes, probably,” he sheepishly answers.

“Um! That’s no good, Luca!” Oh, thank god, my moral compass still, somewhat, points due North.

“Well, what!? I’m ITALIAN!”

OH. FOR. THE. LOVE. OF. GOD.

FACEPALM.