You already said that, Jade.
Channel your inner Candy Stone energy.
He chuckles softly, a small flicker of heat in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. “Are you hungry?”
My stomach growls at the mention. “Starving.”
“Good.” His voice is low and hoarse. “I hope you like baked ziti,” he winks.
“Look at you. You listen so well.”
His eyebrows lift, just a fraction of an inch. The movement is so subtle, if I weren’t hyperaware of him, I wouldn’t have noticed. “You have no idea just how good of a listener I can be.”
Heat creeps up my neck again while simultaneously spreading across the pit of my stomach. I need to get him up to my apartment… to eat, and then send him on his way before I end up doing something I’ll likely regret.
“Come on.” My voice catches in my throat and I clear it, stepping around him as I turn away and head toward the elevator. “I’m on the seventh floor.”
Matteo steps into the car, both of us occupying opposite corners of the elevator as the doors slide shut. Tension follows us into the space, heavy and thick. I shift my weight on my feet, tucking hair behind my ears to keep my hands busy.
I chance a glance at Matteo and his eyes are already on me, body turning to face me as he leans against the wall. My mouth is immediately dry. I lick my lips to try to bring some moisture back.
“You’re staring.”
His gaze draws down to my lips. “You’re standing awfully close.”
I swallow hard, warmth trailing down my spine. “The elevator’s small.”
“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.
