Weeks of tension, months of friendship, and caring for one another all leading up to this moment. Blood whooshes in my eardrums as my heart pounds against my rib cage. He tastes so sweet, just like the dessert we enjoyed together.
I lean fully into him, hoping he thinks I taste as good as he does. A little moan catches in my throat as he twists his head, changing the angle and kissing me even more passionately. I feel like my heart could burst—it’s never felt so full and warm.
I’m panting when we finally part, and he’s breathing harder too. I watch his chest rising and falling, mesmerized by the apparent effect I’ve had on him. Matteo drops his forehead against mine and lets go of my face at last.
“Tell me that’s not our last time doing that,meraviglia,” he rasps the request.
“It’s not our last time.” My hands leave his shirt and I smooth out the wrinkles I caused. “As long as you don’t want it to be.”
“I think I’ll always want to do that again.”
“IknowI will.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Anya
Ifeel like I’ve been floating for the last three days. Matteo and I kissed, and it was unbelievable. We connected in such an intimate way, so gentle but so passionate all the same. I’ve been waiting for it to happen again every day since, though we haven’t had a moment alone to recreate it.
Dad hasn’t given me any indication that he knows what Matteo and I did while he wasn’t home, but he hasn’t afforded us any privacy since returning from his meeting, either. When Matteo has come to visit these past couple of days, someone has always joined our company. Whether it’s him, Nadya, Aunt Irina, or one of his brothers, we’ve been surrounded.
It’s still been nice, actually. I like seeing Matteo with my family, especially Nadya. He’s so kind to her, and treats her like a new friend rather than a bothersome twelve-year-old. He doesn’t mind her sass, and tends to find her funny rather than abrasive. His kindness seems to know no bounds.So,I don’t think I could have found a better man to share my first real kiss with.
When I was little, I used to dream of being kissed by a prince the way Matteo kissed me, but after the last few years, I never expected those dreams to be a possibility—let alone a reality. Matteo may not be royalty in the traditional sense, but he’s mafia royalty. A Prince of The Outfit who’s as gallant as he is charming.
He even looks dashing while he’s eating.
“I think I want to start teaching a ballet class or two,” I tell him quietly, trying not to be overheard.
I don’t want my family to know before I’m sure about my plans. We’re in the backyard, each of us enjoying a pint of ice cream—his filled with Oreo chunks, and mine with caramel waffle cone pieces. But of course, we aren’t entirely alone. My father is just inside, and Nadya is off exploring the gardens only tens of feet away from us.
“You do?” Matteo asks, sticking his spoon into his container to give me his full attention. “That’s amazing. What made you decide that?”
“Well,” I start, swallowing my last bite. “You said that you thought I would be a good teacher. And Nadya asked me for advice with some of her turns yesterday after you left. It felt nice, helping her out.”
Matteo grins, hearing my explanation. “I’d love to see you teaching. I bet you’d be every little ballerina’s favorite face to see at their lessons. Do you have a plan? Or are you still considering what it would look like for you?”
I flush and set my ice cream down, my hands going cold from holding it for too long. “I was thinking that I could offer private lessons to the daughters of my father’s men. They could come here. My studio is big enough, and I wouldn’t have to worry about security. Once I get to know them better, I could offer a group class for them as well.”
Matteo hums. “I doubt your dad would mind people coming in and out of here either—if they’re his own men’s families. It’s kind of genius, Anya. I told you you were smart. I knew it as soon as I saw you.”
“You’re always seeing the best in me,” I murmur, warmth filling my chest.
His head shakes. “I think I’m just seeingyou.”
“Matteo, are we still friends?” The question flies out of my lips, bursting out of me before I can think twice about it. “I mean, is that all we are? Just friends?”
His face shifts, but not in discomfort or in fear. He softens, his blue eyes becoming less striking and almost shaded. “We’re always going to be friends, but I think we both know there’s nothingjustabout us anymore. We’re something more, aren’t we?”
My heart stutters a beat. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted something more.”
Matteo takes my hand, not caring if anyone sees. “I never would have kissed you if I didn’t want—no,need—more. I would never lead you on in that way. The only reason I haven’t said anything is so that I don’t scare you off by moving too fast. I’m at your mercy,meraviglia.But you should know, that’s exactly where I want to be.”
“It’s not too fast,” I confess, feeling his warmth radiate from my hand all the way up my arm. “It might even be too slow. I…I feel like I don’t ever want to live another day where I don’t get to be with you. I wantus.”
“You want to be my girl, Anya Morozov?” Matteo asks, voice gruff.
“More than anything.”
