“It is, isn’t it?” His voice drops lower, the sound sultry as his eyes slowly search mine.
My body hums as electricity dances in the air. He’s close enough I could touch him without even straightening my arm. He’s in my space, he’s in my head, and fuck me, I think I like it.
My lips part, a shallow breath escaping me. The muscles in my legs contract as I start to shift my weight in his direction. The elevator dings, knocking me back to my senses as it comes to a stop at my floor. My eyes widen, his darken, and the doors slide open.
I need to get my shit together. We agreed that nothing like this would happen.
“This is my floor,” I half whisper, as if he doesn’t already know.
“After you,” he chuckles, sweeping his arm toward the hall. Without another word, I exit the cab and he follows, walking to my door adjacent from the elevator shaft.
Matteo stops just behind me, his body close enough that I can feel his warmth, but not close enough to touch me. I quickly unlock my door, pushing it open with haste and head inside.
He follows after, kicking his shoes off at the door as I let it fall shut behind us.
“Two rules.”
His eyes flicker to mine.
“No touching me, and no reading any of my notes.”
He rolls his lips between his teeth, biting down on his smirk as his head bobs. “Yes, ma’am.” He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, his eyes still on mine.
I force myself to turn away from him as I slip my feet from my shoes and back into my slippers, and head into the apartment.
Matteo meets me at the island in the center of the kitchen. He looks over at the dining room table, curiously eyeing my notebooks and post-it’s from where he’s standing. He doesn’t move any closer to try and read them.
Relief washes over me as he sets the bag on the counter and starts pulling containers out.
“Baked ziti for you,” he says softly, setting it down in front of me. I grab two glasses of water and slide onto one of the barstools.
“Thank you.” I lift my chin as he pulls out another container. “What’d you get?”
“Chicken masala,” he says, grabbing the stool next to me and sliding it to the side of the island so we’re sitting adjacent instead of side by side. “Do you want some?”
“Oh, no, that’s yours. Thank you, though.”
Matteo shrugs. “If you change your mind, you can have some.”
“You have siblings, don’t you?” A smile pulls on my lips as he nods his head. “Sharing comes with the territory.”
He lets out a breath, shaking his head. “I have two younger sisters, Elena and Bella. I swear, nothing belonged to me during my teenage years.”
“How old are they?”
“Elena’s 21 and Bella’s 19.” He takes a bite of his food, chewing and swallowing before offering any more information. “I was seven when Elena was born, but thankfully the age gap made us closer. I always felt like I needed to look out for the two of them.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, wow. That is a pretty significant gap. I’m glad it made you closer, rather than the opposite.”
Matteo bobs his head. “Yeah. Thankfully the two of them didn’t have to go the first five years of their life with their parents not together, so their childhood was a bit different.” He pauses, his face draining of color and he abruptly switches gears. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
I want to press rewind and ask him what he means by that. His parents had him and then weren’t together?
“No,” I say after a second. “I’m an only child.” I pause, piercing some of the noodles with my fork. “My parents live in England, so they’re not really around.”
Matteo’s eyebrows tug downward. “I’m sorry. It must be hard not seeing them often.”
I shrug my shoulders dismissively, ignoring the tightening in my chest. “It’s fine. They moved six years ago, so it’s not anything new. They moved for my father’s job. We’re not close… never really were”
