He arches a brow. “I feel like your dad would be mad if you weren’t a New York fan.”
“I know. He never let me hear the end of it as a kid,” I say, grinning at the memory.
I can still picture him lecturing me about how much better it would be to be a Knicks fan, how New York teams were superior in every way. Looking back, I guess being a Jazz fan was my first real act of rebellion. I remember telling him,‘But Daddy, I don’t live in New York. If you took me with you, maybe I could be a fan.’
He would just shake his head, smile softly, and say,‘One day darling. One day.’
I clear my throat and gesture behind me. “If you’re hungry, the kitchen is right there. Help yourself. Let me give you a tour.”
I flip on the light, and the small kitchen comes into view. “The bathroom’s over there.” I point to the door next to my bedroom. “And around that corner is a little reading nook that leads to the balcony.”
“Do you go out there a lot?” he asks as he looks out the window.
“Yeah, I love it. It overlooks the river.”
It’s my favorite part of this apartment.
“Cool,” he says, a soft grin tugging at his mouth.
I walk back over to the kitchen to grab some snacks and drinks. Mateo follows, lingering just behind me. I reach up on my toes, stretching for a bowl on the top shelf, when I feel his hand brush mine as he effortlessly pulls it down.
I’m not short, but I’m not tall either. Five-six on a good day. He’s well over six feet, and the difference feels very apparent right now.
“You could’ve asked for help,” he whispers in a playful tone.
“What’s the fun in that?” I tease as I pour chips into the bowl. I glance toward the fridge. “There’s beer or water in there if you want something.”
“What do you want?” he asks softly.
“I’ll just have water.”
I head back to the couch, and Mateo follows, handing me a bottle before sitting beside me. The end of the Kings game is still on, since it’s early on the West Coast. When I say I watch basketball, I mean it—Utah Jazz or not, it’s my favorite sport.
We sit not speaking most of the game, eating snacks whileMateo scrolls on his phone. Eventually, a thought starts nagging at me. I wonder if he has a girlfriend. Or someone he’d rather be spending his free time with instead of sitting here, babysitting me.
I clear my throat. “Thanks for staying with me. I hope this isn’t taking you away from anyone.”
Real subtle, I think, mentally rolling my eyes at myself.
“What? No. Not at all,” he says quickly, meeting my gaze. “I’ve been so focused on helping Gino the last few years that I haven’t made time for anything else.”
“Doesn’t it suck, though? Taking orders from someone else?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think of it that way. Gino’s my best friend. He’s like an older brother to me.”
Great. So, I’m probably just a baby sister by association.
He stares at me for a beat.
“What?” I ask, giving him a sideways glance.
“Nothing,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips. “I just thought you were about to say something witty.”
“Umm…” I trail off, clearly blushing now. I can see his smile widen. “I didn’t think I needed to respond to everything.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, “but I’ve noticed you like to respond to everything.”
“We’ve known each other for a day, and you’ve already noticed that?” I smirk.
