Page 204 of Matteo

Throwing things out. When she could have so easily just gone home.

I inhale a long steadying breath. “We could do it after the surgery,” I offer, watching her reaction carefully.

She frowns, and I worry that I’ve said too much. “Maybe after the surgery, when you’ve recovered enough to travel,” she answers.

I step back in shock and elation. My heart, drunk with hope, slams against my ribs.

“After the surgery?” I can't believe my ears. She knows I have the surgery in a few weeks’ time because I had to let everyone know in a team meeting.

She gets up from the wall and steps over to the lamppost, curling her arm around it and gaping around the courtyard, as if she’s soaking up the Dubrovnik vibes. “I think it would make sense for us to go then.”

For us to go then.

I would jump, physically jump up in the air for joy in this moment, not caring how uncool it would look.

But I need to stay calm. “I-I’ll be out of action for a while.” My heart rate is rocketing.

“I’ll take care of you.” She blinks a few times, as if the words came out too fast, before she could stop them.

“You’ll take care of me?”

“I could be your nurse.”

A smile pulls at my mouth. “Will you wear a nurse’s outfit?”

She rolls her eyes.

Idiot. Why did I have to go and say something so stupid?

“Don’t push it, Matteo …”

Fuck.

Fuck.

If she's willing to do that it means ... it means we have a chance. I have a chance to put things right.

I get to have my girl back.

I put my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, so that I don't cup her face or touch her or make moves to kiss her, because that's all I can think about.

“I won’t push it,” I promise, “but in the plane, there’s two private suites, luxury bathrooms, a cocktail bar—”

And then, because she hasn’t told me to “shut up,” because she hasn’t said “No,” I push the boundaries. “Mile high club?” I add, mischievously.

Her lips twitch. “For you, maybe.”

Maybe?

Jesus.

Before I know it, our hands are reaching for one another, brushing together lightly. The touch makes every cell in my body spark, and I feel more alive than I have in weeks.

“Matteo,” she murmurs, like a warning, when she catches me gawking at her lips. “Don’t rush it.”

“I know. I get it. Don’t rush it.”

Slowing down will be impossible but she’s given me hope.