He’s quiet, his eyes roaming over my face like he’s trying to get a read on me. My face remains stoic, giving nothing away. Not that there’s really much to give away. I’m indifferent about them at this point in my life. I’ve always felt like a bit of an outsider with my family.
My parents had different expectations that I never met. The two of them were married to their careers. Their relationship was second. And I always came in third place to them. My mother wanted me to get a degree in medicine like her and my father, so I’m sure you can imagine their shock when I went on to be an author instead.
“Do you ever see them?”
“Usually once or twice a year,” I say after swallowing another mouthful of food. “Mainly on holidays.” Matteo’s eyes are still on me as he chews his food.
“You’re close with your family?”
“Oh, yeah.” He nods his head, pausing to take a sip of his water. “Almost too close sometimes. My father likes to try and tell me how to live my life. Doesn’t help that his brother’s the head coach for the Hawks.”
I can’t even imagine that added layer of pressure. “That sounds rough.”
Now Matteo shrugs with an air of indifference. “It’s annoying, more than anything. The two of them feel like co-conspirators at times.”
“I’m sure,” I laugh softly, taking a sip of my water. “Do you ever feel like you’re under a microscope?”
Matteo looks up at me again. He’s silent for a beat. “All the time.” He drags a hand through his hair. His eyebrows twitch. “Sometimes I just want to disappear, you know?”
I purse my lips, familiarity washing over me as I bob my head. “Yeah, I know.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could?” He muses, the tension dissipating. “Not forever, but just for a little bit.”
“That sounds like a dream. I’d kill for a break from reality. From the stress and the deadlines and feeling like I’m always falling behind.”
Mischief dances in Matteo’s eyes. “Want to disappear with me, Sunny?”
“We can’t do that.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. The mischief vanishes and a sad smile lifts his lips. “It’s a nice thought, though, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I agree, slowly nodding. I tilt my head to the side, lifting my eyebrows at him in warning, and say in the best impression of a stern tone I can muster, “You’d better not disappear on me, Ford.”
A ghost of a smile dances across his mouth. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Sheepishly, I duck my head and pierce a few noodles again. I can practically feel the heat of Matteo’s gaze lingering on the side of my face before he digs into his own food. After a moment in silence, both of us mulling over the fantasy, we switch back to safer topics, hockey and writing.
It feels like he’s only been here for a half an hour, but before we know it, two hours have come and gone, and it’s time for me to kick him out before he gets any other ideas. Matteo doesn’t argue. Instead, he helps me clean up and then we’re on the elevator together again.
He stands beside me, arm to arm, not bothering to move away as our limbs press against each other. He stares at me through our distorted reflections in the doors. “When do I get to know what you’re writing about?”
“Why do you want to know so badly?”
“I am your muse, no?” He glances at me from the corner of his eye. “It only feels fair.”
My throat bobs as I swallow hard. “I don’t normally talk about books before they’re done.” It’s different from anything else I’ve ever written. It still feels so new, I’m afraid if I say it outloud, the entire story will blow up in my face.
“Can I read it when it’s done? Before anyone else does?”
My heart beats a bit harder. “You actually want to read it?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Of course, I do. I’m fully invested in this now.”
The elevator dings as we reach the first floor. The doors slide open and Matteo motions for me to go ahead of him. “After it’s edited, I’ll make sure you get a copy before publication.”
“You’ll sign it, right?”
A soft laugh escapes me. “Yes. I’ll even personalize it for you.”
