“Maybe we can find you a hot vacation man?” Lucia whispered not at all quietly to Nicola. My blood immediately started boiling. Maybe the fuck not.
Nicola’s eyes glanced at me for only a second before snapping back to Lucia.
“Sounds perfect!” Her voice was too high, too cheery. She flashed an all too-bright smile and headed for the door.
Nicola had shut down before my eyes.
I didn’t like that.
I stomped out the door, right after her. I caught sight of Nicola halfway down the hallway, walking fast, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor like warning shots.
“Nicola!” I called, jogging to catch up. She didn’t slow down.
“Nicola, come on—” I reached for her arm.
She spun around so fast I almost collided with her.
“What, Matteo?” she snapped. “You got your yes. Everyone’s onboard. Congrats on your team bonding vacation or whatever.”
I blinked at her, thrown. “Why are you being like this? You were fine ten minutes ago.”
Her laugh was hollow. “Fine? That’s rich. You stormed in, tossed a phone across the room, dropped a bomb about your sister and best friend being in love like it’s a game, and then roped me into a romantic seaside group trip I didn’t ask for.”
“It’s a holiday,” I said. “A break. I thought maybe you’d want that. God forbid you take one second to breathe.”
“I breathe just fine, thanks,” she said, her jaw tight. “And don’t act like you did this forme.”
I stepped in, too close now, deliberately so. “And what if I did?”
She flinched like I’d struck a nerve but didn’t back away. “Then you’re an idiot.”
“Why?” I demanded, voice low. “Because I want you to stop killing yourself trying to prove something to people who already know you’re good at your job? Or maybe because I’m sick of watching you act like you don’t care when I know you do.”
Her eyes flashed. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Don’t I?” I said, and that time, my voice was rough. “I know you hide behind sarcasm and late nights and that fucking phone. I know you’re tired, and you won’t admit it. And I know you’re scared shitless to let anyone take care of you.”
She stared at me, furious and breathless, and for a second, I thought she might slap me.
Instead, she hissed, “Fuck off.”
I blinked. “Fine.”
I started to step back but she grabbed my shirt and yanked me forward.
Our mouths crashed together like we were trying to win a fight with teeth and lips and frustration. She tasted like coffee and tension, and something sweet I couldn’t name. I slid one hand into her hair, the other gripping her waist, hauling her closer as her back hit the wall with a soft thud.
She pulled away first, breathing hard, eyes wide, lips swollen. “That was a mistake.”
I smirked, breathless. “Didn’t feel like one.”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“Yeah?” I murmured, leaning in until our noses brush. “You gonna slap me or kiss me again?”
She grabbed me by the collar, yanking me back in, and this time it was deeper, messier. Her hands in my hair, my thumbs digging into her hips. I kissed her like I was starving and she was the only thing that could ever satisfy me. She moaned low in her throat, and I nearly lost it right there in the damn hallway.
When we finally broke apart, we were both gasping, chests heaving.
