Can you even reach my neck?
At that, I leaned forward and kicked Matteo in the shin. Lightly. Mostly. He winced with an exaggerated“Ow”and then grinned, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
He deserved it.
I normally wore heels everywhere to offset my vertically-challenged situation, but today was a travel day, which meant sneakers and leggings.
I grabbed my phone, turned it face-down, and shoved it under my thigh like it personally offended me.Opening my book again, returning to the men I preferred: tall, dark, and fictional.
A few hours passed in silence, the soft hum of the plane lulling most of the cabin to sleep. Monty was still curled against my side, and my book was just getting good when I heard a sleepy shuffle and soft voice.
“Zietta…”
Gianna quietly interrupted me clutching her bunny with her curls, a wild halo of blonde chaos.
“Can you wake up Zio?” she murmured, her voice a sleepy mix of slur and pout. I’d become fluent in Gianna-speak by now. She meant business.
“I think we should let him sleep, honey,” I whispered, nodding to Matteo—currently drooling in the most undignified way across the aisle. “Wanna hang with me until he wakes up?”
“‘Oh-tay,” she replied, climbing onto the seat beside me. She curled into my side like a tiny, warm blanket, bunny still clutched tightly in her hand.
We sat quietly for a bit, her head resting on my arm. It was peaceful. Sweet.
Too sweet.
“Zietta?”
“Hmm?”
“Can we wake up Zionow?” I glanced down at her, then over at Matteo who was still snoring. Then back to her. I could see the gears turning, see the intrusive thought take form. It was the same one her uncle got before he said something deeply dumb or chaotic.
“Gia…” I warned.
Too late.
She launched the stuffed animal right to her Zio. It smacked Matteo square in the face.
He jolted awake with a confused grunt, looked down at the bunny in his lap, then up at me. I was already laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“Did youneedsomething, Nic?” he groaned, voice low and scratchy with sleep—and oh God, it sounded exactly like his morning voice.
Which unfortunately reminded me of that morning after the gala. Shirtless. Window light. That smirk.
Nope. Shook that image out of my brain immediately.
“Maybe don’t teach my sweet niece to throw things at people’s faces,” Matteo said, giving me a pointed look.
I started to protest, but before I could defend myself, Gianna crossed her arms, puffed up her cheeks, and said matter-of-factly, “I did it. I wanted you to wake up.”
Matteo’s expression softened instantly. The man was powerless against her.
He picked up the bunny, leaned forward with mock seriousness. “Alright, next time maybe don’t throw things, yeah? Just come over and tap my arm like this.” He used the bunny’s paw to tap her shoulder gently, and she giggled so hard she snorted.
“’Kay, Zio. I sorry I throwed bunny at you.”
“That’s alright, G.” He opened his arms, and she launched herself at him, giggling as he lifted her effortlessly into his lap and hugged her tight. He whispered something into her hair, soft and tender, something I didn’t catch—but then his gaze lifted to me, warm and amused.
“You’re rubbing off on her.”
