“Do you have anything you need to be doing?” Mateo asked again.
I stared at him as my mind went blank. Getting something to eat together would just make things complicated, and I didn’t need any complications. Least of all in the formof a man as handsome as Mateo Boone. And I really did have plans tonight.
Yet, despite all that and the voice in my head telling me I would only get hurt at the end of this, I found myself shaking my head. “No, I don’t. What do you have in mind?”
7
MATEO
“Alessandro’s.” Emmie gave the building a curious look. We both drove here separately from the rink.
“Best pizza in town. You know it?” I asked.
“I was here the same day you ran into me.”
“Actually, you ran into me.” I grabbed the door handle, opened it, and stepped back, gesturing for her to go in first.
Emmie scoffed. “You took up half the sidewalk, of course I ran into you.”
“I apologized,” I shot back.
Emmie slipped past me, the smell of sweet, ripe peaches hitting my nose. “And you ran into me again at the practice facility.”
“Again, that was you.” She sent me a look over her shoulder as we entered the restaurant. If it was meant to be intimidating, it failed. All it did was make me want to annoy her more just so I could have that look given to me again.
I faked gasped. It was loud enough to draw the attention of a few people sitting near the doors. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Mateo,” Emmie hissed, spinning around to slap my arm, her cheeks pink.
“What?” I asked innocently, a wide grin on my face.
She glanced at the people who slowly went back to what they were doing before. A few still lingered as if they couldn’t quite place who I was.
“People are going to think I hit you all the time.”
“I mean, you just did.” I playfully held my arm as if she actually hurt me.
“Social anxiety has nothing on you, does it?” Emmie turned back around as the hostess made her way toward us.
“Nope.” I rarely got embarrassed in public, and there had only been a few times I’d felt overwhelmed by the amount of fans surrounding me, but for the most part, I didn’t care.
As the hostess led us to a booth, I gently placed my hand on the small of Emmie’s back as she walked in front of me. A couple of sets of eyes followed us, but I paid them no mind.
Thanking the lady, I took a seat across from Emmie in the booth. My knees knocked against hers under the table, the limited space making it hard to maneuver my long legs.
While Emmie grabbed the menu, looking it over, I took her in. Her red hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few curled pieces falling around her face. I didn’t see an ounce of makeup on her, which made her freckles stand out against her pale skin. She was beautiful.
My eyes dipped down to her lips. The top one was a tad bit fuller than the bottom and the most perfect shade of pink. My mind instantly conjured up the image of what they’d look like after I bit them. Would they look bruised from desire?
“You’re staring,” Emmie remarked, setting her menu down and leveling a look at me.
“I am.” I didn’t bother denying it. I leaned back and putmy arms over the back of the seat. “You can stare at me too if you want.”
“And why would I do that?” she asked, but I saw her eyes linger for a split second on my arms where my pullover was pulled tight. I flexed on purpose.
“Might as well enjoy what’s in front of you.”
Emmie’s head tilted to the side. “You’re cocky, you know that?”
