She wasn’t wrong. So whydidI keep trying? Why did I constantly put her wishes above mine?
“I feel good with Luca, as if I can be myself.” It felt strange, almost wrong, to discuss her son with her in such a candidway.
“I know.” She held my gaze, smiling. “You just have to bear with him. Luca canbe—”
“Insanely handsome and hilarious?” Luca said from the door.
Rosie and I laughed, filling the room and sweeping away any leftover sadness from our conversation. The weight that had rested heavily on my chest since being at my mother’s house now completely lifted, leaving a lightness I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“We’d better get moving soon.” Luca placed the tea on the side, leaned against the doorframe, and crossed his arms. His forearms were looking particularly appealing as they flexed.
“You’ll both have to come over again soon,” Rosie said on a yawn. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to come and watch a performance, too, but we’ll have to see.”
Luca moved across the room and kissed his mum on the cheek. I followed suit, leaning over to hugher.
“Please remember what I said, Matilda. If you ever need anything, even just moral support, give me a call.” She held my hands and squeezed.
The maternal tenderness and compassion Rosie offered to me was a rare gift I would hold close to my heart.
“Stop hitting on her, Mom. I’ll get jealous.” We both rolled our eyes at Luca’s joke, then shared one more hug, holding on a moment longer.
After we’d said our final goodbyes and stepped out of the room, everything felt just a little bit brighter.
“I’ll walk you up tothe door,” I told Matilda. “No arguments.”
The demand might have seemed overprotective, like I wanted to make sure she got in OK, but in reality I just wanted to prolong our evening. I hadn’t anticipated taking her to see my mother, but as I’d gone to drive her home earlier, I’d realized I didn’t want to end the night there. I’dwantedher to meet my mom. I had hoped she might find comfort in standing up to her family by speaking to my mother. I didn’t know what they’d spoken about when I left the room, but when I returned and met my mother’s eyes, an understanding passed between us, and I was glad that I’d given them time to talk.
“Thank you for taking me to see your mum, Luca.” Matilda rested her hand on my arm as we crossed the parking lot to the elevator. “I can see how much she means to you. I feel privileged to have met her.”
We had managed to keep my mother’s diagnosis out of the media. I didn’t have to ask Matilda not to mention the care home to anyone else; I knew she wouldn’t.
“She obviously loves you,” I told her, rolling my eyes as I pressed the elevator button. “Like everyone else.”
“I can definitely think of a few people who don’t. My mother,my sister, Mark.” She counted the people on her fingers as the elevator started its ascent.
“Mark doesn’t hate you.” I pushed aside the bitter feeling gnawing in my chest. “It’s the opposite.”
“Obviously not, given that he broke up with me then slept with my sister.” She raised a challenging eyebrow.
I shook my head in disbelief, still unable to believe Mark and Lauren’s betrayal.
The doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing Matilda’s hallway. We made our way to her door in comfortable silence.
Her jingling keys mocked me, reminding me I had to go soon. I slowed my walk in a pathetic attempt to hold on to the moment a little longer. But too soon, we reached her door, and she slid her key in. The clicking lock was the only sound echoing around the hallway. She turned in the entrance and hesitated for a moment, gaze assessing, before launching herself forward and throwing her arms around my neck.
I wrapped my arms around her without a second thought. Her heartbeat against my chest was a soft, steady rhythm, and my body instinctively relaxed.
It was over too soon as her arms loosened and she stepped back, but my palm found the side of her neck, halting her retreat. My thumb caressed the pulse just below her chin, the fast beat matching myown.
I knew we were treading the fine line that we’d drawn the other evening in the dressing room, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to give a fuck. This was the problem with being with Matilda all day, every day—it was impossible to ignore my need for her. I searched her face, looking for any trace of sadness, some indication that she needed comfort. But there was none. Instead, her expression simmered with something else—heat.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered.
I didn’t think twice. “Fuck, yes.”
I dipped my head, my spare hand lifting to grasp the other side of her face. Our lips came together, and it feltso fucking good—like we were made for each other. I pressed her back against the doorframe and deepened the kiss. Our bodies aligned and Matilda gasped into my mouth, the little noise sending a flood of pleasure straight to my cock. I pulled back, my conscience remembering she’d just had an emotional evening. I definitely didn’t want to take advantage ofher.
“Stevens.” I cleared the gravel from my throat. “You’ve had a rough day. Are you sure this is what you want?”
