ARYA’S POV
I was a disaster of excitement as I rushed around my room, grabbing my things. My phone dropped on the bed first then my sunglasses knocked off the dresser.
The small clutch I had chosen to bring was sent flying when my elbow caught it while reaching for my lipgloss.
"Merda," I muttered, using one of the few Italian curse words I had picked up as I scrambled to collect everything.
By the time I made it downstairs, I was fairly certain I looked like I'd been through a tornado. My hair was hastily pulled back, my sundress was probably wrinkled, and I'd changed my shoes three times before settling on simple sandals.
Matteo was waiting by the car, his expression as stoic as ever. When I dropped my lipgloss for the third time while trying to put it in my bag, he bent down and r
