My eyes tracked him as he stretched one long leg out in front of him and leaned back, the cuff of his shirt riding up just enough to flash a stupidly expensive-looking watch around his wrist.
“Because,” I said, adjusting my posture simply because I felt like Ihadto, “I wasn’t about to let a fully paid-for Amalfi Coast vacation go to waste just because my ex has a cock with no sense of loyalty.”
His hand came up to his mouth.
A laugh bubbled out of him, his finger rubbing against his upper lip.
“Well. That’s a hell of a reason.”
“I’ve got better ones, but that one gets the point across fastest.”
He smirked and extended a hand toward me.
Big, with veins across the back of his palm.
Clean nails. A silver—no,platinum—ring on his right index finger, just subtle enough not to screammid-life crisis.
“I’m on the Naples flight too. I’m Matt.”
Just that. Nothing I could Google. Just “Matt.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and hesitated for a second before taking it.
His grip was warm, strong, not too tight, and not a show of dominance.
Justconfident.
And his touch made my mouth dry.
“Sienna.”
Matt gave me a slow once-over.
His eyes flicked down before dragging back up.
For once, it didn’t feelsleazy, didn’t feel like he was trying to strip me with his eyes.
It felt more like he was either sizing me up or trying to memorize something about me.
“Sienna,” he repeated as if testing my name in his mouth. “Nice to meet you. And apologies, again, for nearly causing your heart to leap out of your chest.”
Christ.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s fine,” I said, waving it off. “First time a guy’s ever made me break a glass, though. That’s, like, an accomplishment.”
His lips quirked up at the corner. “I’ll take it,” he said. “Can I get you a replacement, at least?”
I blinked at him. “Are you asking to buy me a drink when the drinks are complimentary?”
“I’m asking if you’d like another one,” he clarified, a smirk breaking out across his cheeks. “And offering to get off my ass and get it for you.”
The skin on my chest suddenly felt slightly too warm for comfort.
I rubbed at it to try to hide the flush creeping up.
“Only if you don’t mind me making it weird.”
“Weirder than shattering a champagne flute the moment I say hello?” he teased, pushing up to his feet and smoothing down his shirt.
