Page 76 of Offside Angle

I bang on his door hard enough that whoever is staying next to him probably hates me now.

For some reason, I expect Santi to answer looking half asleep, with messy hair and maybe those ridiculously thin sweatpants he keeps wearing around the hotel.

Instead, the door opens and he’s already fully dressed.

His eyeliner is done. His hair looks intentional. There are rings on half his fingers, because apparently Santiago Vega wakes up ready to be photographed while I currently look like I escaped from somewhere.

I frown at him. “Do you not sleep?” I ask, ignoring the smirk already pulling at his mouth.

“Good morning, cariño,” Santi says, voice warm and amused. “What’s got you banging on my door?”

I could explain.

I probably should explain.

Instead, I push past him into the room, turn around, and grab his face with both hands. “It’s just you…” I say.

Santi blinks, confused. “What?”

I start grinning, then chuckling, the relief crashing over me so hard I feel a little dizzy. “It’s not all men… just you,” I say, holding his face. “I don’t have to change my entire identity… because it’s just… you.”

Something in his expression shifts as he looks at me, and the amusement gives way to something softer that makes my chest feel strangely light.

I lean in and kiss him — not hard, not desperate, just… sure. For the first time in weeks, I feel sure.

And when I pull back, I’m still smiling like an idiot.

Santi brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Welcome back, Matteo.”

He closes the door behind us and catches my hand, pulling me toward the bed. I’m too busy enjoying the fact that my brain has finally solved one problem to question anything, so I let him sit me down without complaint.

“And how exactly did you figure all this out?” he asks.

His gaze drops, and I follow it to my bare feet.

Right.

Those.

Santi frowns, disappears into the bathroom without explanation, and comes back with a damp towel.

“Well…” I start as he crouches in front of me. “Jace and I talked last night, and he said maybe I don’t actually like men. Maybe I just—what are you doing?”

Santi takes hold of my ankle and starts wiping the bottom of my foot.

I stare down at him.

“Keep talking, guapo.”

Okay then.

I try not to jerk my foot away when the towel catches a ticklish spot and continue before I get distracted by whatever the hell this is. “Anyway, Jace said maybe it’s just you, so this morning I decided to test the theory.”

Santi pauses for barely a second before moving to my other foot. “How?”

“Well, I went to Shane.”

His attention flicks up to me.