I wiped at my cheeks, telling myself the only possible logical explanation: I must have just still been high on the emotion from all that intense sex.I was fine.I wasalwaysfine.
In an attempt to distract myself, I used the toilet and cleaned up slightly – forcing myself to not look at the dry smears of pink on my inner thighs. Though, after I flushed, I didn’t get up.
Couldn’t.
It hurt.
A weird type of pain I hadn’t experienced before. But I couldn’t even call it that. It wasn’t pain, or sorenessnecessarily. More like a pressure between my legs that just didn’t feel good. And a part of me thought I might fall if I attempted to get up.
So I gave myself a couple more minutes to get it together.
A knock on the bathroom door.
“Francesca.”
“Go away!”
A key sound followed by the door opening.
“Do you not understand the concept of privacy?” I hissed, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment that he was going to see me like this. “A locked door meansdon’tcome in, asshole.”
Matteo didn’t say anything as he stepped into the bathroom, his eyes zeroed in on me like a predator eyeing his prey.
I scoffed and looked the other way as he closed in; wanting nothing more than to be able to get up and walk away from him… From…This.
But it just hurt so bad.In my chest.
He lowered in front of me just as a sniff escaped me. “Amor…” Biting my cheek, I turned to look at him with unwillingly blurry eyes. “Can you stand?”
The softness in his voice filtered through my chest and I couldn’t explain the effect he had on me. Why did I want to cry whenever I was around him? And not in a sad way, either. It’s like I wanted to throw myself in his arms and have him hold me. For him to stroke my hair and tell me everything was going to be okay. I couldn’t understand why he made me so emotional.
I bit my lip, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable again, and shook my head.
Matteo frowned, his expression softening even more as he leaned in, wrapping one arm around my waist. I leaned in too, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding on tight. Most of all, filled with relief that we were okay.
I didn’t know why I was so sure he would hate me because I lied.
Deep down, I guessed I cared about the rumors about him after all. Maybe I really did think he wouldn’t want me after he got what he wanted.
His other hand went under my knees as he lifted me up effortlessly, like the princess he always called me.
And I knew, he’d told me the truth. I was his exception.
He walked us across the marble floor, to the large bathtub overlooking the city through the privacy window.
Then, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, he stepped in, sitting down with me in his lap. Leaning back and allowing me to rest on top of him as the tub filled with hot water.
He held me in his big arms as I looked up at the New York stars – the golden skyline lights sparkling in the distance.
“You shouldn’t have walked away.”
My head was resting on his chest, my sharp nails drawing patterns on his chest.
“You didn’t exactly have a good reaction.”
His rough palm came up to cup my cheek, gently making me look up at him and see the raw honesty behind his words. “Lo siento,mi amor. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
I knew. That didn’t change the fact that I was jealous.
