And then he winked.
God, that wink. All heat and trouble and history, like it carried every whispered word and bruised-lipped kiss we’d shared during that stolen week in Portofino.
I barely registered the world around me. The podium celebration became a blur. I celebrated with the crew members around me, my father coming over beaming.
“That DeLuca boy, he has something,” he said over the roar of the cheers. I smiled. He sure did. The trophies were handed out, Matteo holding up the track-shaped award with the biggest smile I had ever seen. I couldn’t help it; the burst of sunshine that radiated off him was contagious. I was smiling right along, circling my hands around my mouth and cheering with everyone around me. His eyes caught mine again. I was in front with my father at this point below the podium stage. Being short had its perks, one of them being I was usually shuffled to the front since I couldn’t see but also wouldn’t block anyone. Champagne mist filled the air, fireworks went off behind the stage. It was pure magic.
After the champagne showers, the boys were pulled into interviews, and I walked back with the crew. Walking the track after the race was a different type of magic, but a night race under the Vegas lights was extra special. I took a bit of the long way, soaking it all in. I was so glad I joined this season on track, that I took the chance to do something more, to be something more. Finding a space in Moretti Racing that felt right was not something I had really expected. I was never the anticipated heir, but getting the Foundation more traction, wanting to grow that side, to make a difference in the world? It felt good.
I was smiling to myself by the time I walked into the Moretti trailers, all stupid and happy. The DeLucas were clearly rubbing off on me. I tried to fix my face as I walked in, but everyone was smiling and cheering each other on, and it was infectious. I rounded the corner near the back of the Moretti hospitality suiteand a hand caught my wrist and spun me into a hidden alcove between two transport crates.
Warm.
Fast.
Him.
Still flushed from the excitement of the night, fire in his eyes, sweat slicking the curls at his temples. His racing suit was unzipped halfway, clinging to his waist, chest rising and falling fast from the adrenaline still pouring through him.
“Matteo—”
But then his hand was on my waist, the other cradling my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek like he couldn’t believe I was real. His forehead rested briefly against mine, grounding. Intimate.
“I know we said vacation was over,” he breathed, voice low and wrecked, “But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend you didn’t ruin me that week. I can’t sleep. I hate when you’re not around. The last few days have felt like an eternity. I need you around, I need these lips, your snark, your fucking temper.” His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. “I’m addicted, Nicola.”
I swallowed hard, the back of my shoulders hitting the crate behind me.
“Matteo…”
“I see you,” he said, lips ghosting over mine. “In the crowd. In my thoughts. When I’m racing. When I’m trying not to care. You’re in every corner of me now. You burrowed into my bones.”
The kiss that followed was devastating.
Not soft. Not careful.
It was the kind of kiss that made the stars reel and the ground vanish. That stole breath and time and reason. That said things he hadn’t said out loud yet, things I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear.
But I kissed him back anyway. Like maybe I could memorize the shape of his mouth, like maybe I could stop my heart from turning inside out every time he touched me.
His hands tightened at my hips. Mine slid up his damp chest, greedy, breathless, still tasting the champagne on his lips.
Then he pulled back just enough to whisper, “Fuck vacation.”
My chest ached, torn between wanting to run and wanting to fall.
He smiled then, his thumb brushing over the corner of my lip.
“Tell me to stop,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll leave, I’ll never bring it up again Nic, but if there’s anything, anything at all, let’s try.”
I didn’t tell him to stop, his words sinking into me, drifting into my heart, the same heart that beat fast when I saw him, when I thought of him. So, I shook my head, as if to say‘I can’t tell you to stop, I don’t want you to stop.’ Matteo tilted his head, dimples showing, making me melt.
“I need your words, Princess.” Matteo was still too close, too flushed, too unfairly beautiful. His eyes searched mine, wild and soft all at once, like he’d just handed me his heart without even asking if I wanted it.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I gritted out, and his lips crashed back into mine. It was the kind of kiss that left you spun inside out and breathless. He grinned, cocky and unbothered, dimples in full effect. I hated how much I wanted to kiss him again, which I fully intended on doing until a third voice broke the spell.
“Oh good,” Anna said, appearing with the timing of a tactically deployed grenade. “I was hoping to find both of you.”
I jumped back like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t be. Which was sort of ridiculous since Anna knew what was going on. Matteo scrubbed a hand through his hair, wipingthe lipstick smudge from his jaw like a guilty teenager. Anna’s brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t comment.
