“What do you mean?”
I hesitate for a half second before the words slip out. “You think I’m hot?”
“Very. Very fucking hot.”
I can feel his gaze on me now, heavy and intent, and for one terrifying second, I’m convinced he’s about to kiss me again. The room suddenly feels too small. Too charged.
I need to get out of here.
I set my beer down a little too quickly and all but bolt for my bedroom, closing the door behind me before I can overthink it. My heart is racing as I lean back against the door, breathing hard, trying to calm myself after what was very clearly an inappropriate moment with my brother’s best friend.
TWELVE
MATEO
She disappears into her bedroom so fast it pulls a low laugh from my chest.
This might actually be more fun than I expected. Trying to coax her out of that shell she keeps herself wrapped in so tightly. She’s cautious. Guarded. And clearly terrified of letting anyone see too much of her, though I still don’t know why.
What I do know is that I hate it. I hate that someone spent years making choices for her, stripping away her confidence piece by piece. Antonio doing that to her didn’t help.
After giving her a few minutes, hoping she’ll change her mind and come back out, I walk down the hall toward her room. I stop outside her door and knock softly.
Nothing.
I listen, straining for any sound on the other side, but there’s no movement. Every worst-case scenario flashes through my mind. After a few seconds, I reach for the knob and thankfully it turns easily.
I step inside, fully expecting to find her stretched out on the bed, ready to tell me to leave. But the room is empty.
My pulse spikes as I glance around, a sudden edge of panic setting in. Then I notice the curtains shifting, fluttering slightly. The sliding glass door is open, and a rush of crisp March air sweeps in.
I move toward the balcony just as she comes into view.
She’s curled up on the outdoor loveseat, wrapped in an oversized Carter State sweatshirt, knees pulled to her chest. She’s staring out at the river below, the city lights reflecting off the water.
I approach slowly, careful not to startle her, and slide the door open just enough to step outside.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide, red, and irritated. She’s been crying.Shit.Did I do that?
“Hey,” I say gently. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says softly, sniffling.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you’re not crying because of me.”
“I’m not,” she says quickly. “I know you’re just being nice and doing your job. Please don’t pity me.”
“Why would I pity you?”
“Um…” She trails off, staring down at her hands. After a moment, she exhales. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m crying. I haven’t done this in a long time.” She lets out a soft laugh. “And no one’s ever called me hot before.”
She lifts her gaze then, looking straight at me.
“Are you serious?” My voice lifts and is too sharp before I can stop it. I see her flinch, and guilt hits immediately.
I move closer and sit beside her on the loveseat, lowering my tone.
“Vanessa, believe me when I say this. You’re beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous.”
