There he was, lying on his back in bed. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. I crept closer as my heart fired up. My dragon soul stirred, pleased with this situation. It liked that Matteo was asleep and vulnerable right in front of me...
Okay, maybe it was in my nature as a dragon to be inherently creepy. We were selfish, possessive creatures who guarded our things fiercely.
And I wanted Matteo to bemy thing.
My footsteps fell silently on the carpet as I approached his bed. Matteo’s poor eyes were still swollen from the fight. They were in the rough stage, where they got worse before they got better. But the rest of him was in fine shape. It pleased me to see him wearing something other than a stuffy white button-up shirt. The simple grey tank he wore to bed exposed his toned arms. He was no bodybuilder, but he wasn’t a waif of an omega either. He was just right. Fit, healthy, and fertile...
The intrusive thought struck me like an arrow. I shook it off. Why was I thinking aboutthat?I blew out a quiet breath, willing the sudden rush of heat to leave my cheeks.
I came to look. That was all. So, I looked. I looked at his gorgeous face, marred by the unfortunate black eyes. I looked at his strong nose, his high cheekbones, his jawline peppered with stubble, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he breathed in and out...
I was riveted. I couldn’t stop staring at him. Like,literallycould not stop. My eyes objected to every attempt to gaze somewhere else. My own body rebelled against me. The only other time I’d felt this way was about my Aquila poster, and even that paled in comparison to this.
As I stared like a madman at Matteo’s closed, puffy eyes, it struck me that I’d never seen themnotswollen. What did they look like? Excitement thrummed as I recalled my promise to watch the first season of the Dragonfate Games. Then I’d know exactly. But watching the show meant leaving Matteo’s room, and I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay here with him until daybreak.
A familiar obsession swirled inside me. This was just like with Aquila, except Matteo was a real flesh-and-blood person. He was an omega contestant onmyshow. He was in my reach. He could be mine.
My hand rose on its own and reached forward. As my palm landed gently on Matteo’s cheek, electric jolts flew up to my shoulder. My skin tingled. My heart leapt into my throat. Growing bolder, I moved my thumb along his soft cheek. It felt so nice to touch him. I almost wished he was awake to feel it, too.
“Hi, Thystle,” Matteo murmured.
The warmth in my blood turned to ice. My hand froze in place. Right against Matteo’s cheek.
He didn’t say that, right? I was hallucinating. He was still asleep, because his eyes were still— Oh. They weren’t closed anymore. He was looking straight at me.
Embarrassment shimmied up my spine, flooding me with shame. This would be a great time for the hotel floorboards to break.
When I tried to retract my hand, I couldn’t. Matteo’s fingers curled around my wrist, keeping my hand there. I felt dizzy.
“Um,” I said. “Hi.”
He smiled, even though he had no business smiling since a dragon just broke into his room and creepily touched his sleeping face.
“I thought you were asleep,” I admitted.
He angled his head towards the sliding door. “I was trying to be. But it’s pretty loud.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “So... you were awake this whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Amazing,” I muttered, slapping my other hand over my face.
Matteo chuckled. “You seem upset.”
“I’m not upset. I’m just an idiot.”
“I fail to see how.”
“Gee, how about we start with breaking and entering into the room of a guy who’s fully conscious?”
“If I’d been unconscious, it would’ve also been bad,” Matteo teased.
He should’ve been mad. Why wasn’t he mad? Why was he taking this so damn well? Flustered, I blew out a breath. “Do youlikethat I’m here?”
A slow grin spread over Matteo’s mouth. “I’m not opposed to it. It felt nice when you touched my face.”
My temperature skyrocketed. I hadn’t just broken into his room, I’dstrokedhim—while he was awake the entire time. The creep-meter was pegging hard.
