Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“That makes two of us.”
“Have you been here the whole time since you dropped us off?”
He shook his head. “I was halfway home when I changed my mind about staying.” His eyes dipped, sweeping over me before meeting mine again. “Or maybe I couldn’t get my mind off how you look tonight.”
I smiled. “I’m happy you came back.”
Matteo’s eyes bounced back and forth between mine. “Are you? Because I debated leaving a half dozen times while I was watching you. You looked like you were having a good time out there, and yesterday, I wasn’t sure you were too happy to see me at your door. I don’t want to overstep.”
“I’m just…” I shook my head. “Dealing with some stuff.”
He caught my eyes. “You sure?”
I didn’t want to make Matteo feel bad, and the truth was, I’d liked dancing with him. A lot—whether I wanted to enjoy it or not. So I smiled. “I’m happy you came back. I had no idea you could dance like that.”
“Only with the right partner.”
My feet had started to hurt on the dance floor before Matteo showed up, but now that they weren’t holding weight anymore, they began to throb. “I think I need to take these shoes off for a few minutes. I’m used to wearing heels to work, but not stilettos this high.”
I reached down to undo the ankle straps. Once my feet were free, I let out a big sigh. “Ahh. That feels good.”
Matteo leaned beneath the table and scooped up my feet. “Let me make them feel even better.”
“You don’t have to…” He pressed two thumbs into the arch of my right foot, and my sentence trailed off. “Oh God, don’t stop. That feels amazing.”
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
There were probably two hundred people in the club, yet just like when we were on the dance floor, it felt like only the two of us again. Matteo’s attention always felt special, like his focus was solely on me. I’d figured that was because most of the times we’d been together, there was nothing to distract him. But now we were in a place with dozens of scantily clad women and people gyrating all over each other on the dance floor, yet he still made me feel like the only woman in the room.
“I didn’t take you for a clubber,” I said.
Matteo put down my right foot and picked up the left, kneading into the arch. “I’m not. It’s only the second time I’ve ever stepped foot inna one.”
“Really? Ever?”
“Yep.”
“Was the first time so bad that you never came again?”
He shrugged. “Nothing terrible happened. It’s just not my thing, and I didn’t need more than once to know that.”
I tilted my head. “What is your thing?”
His eyes met mine. “I’m pretty sure I’m looking at it.”
The waitress brought two more waters, and we immediately gulped down half our bottles. “Is it a coincidence that you only joined me on the dance floor once the guy I was dancing with got a bit friendlier?”
Matteo’s eyebrows jumped. “Something tells me you already know the answer to that question.”
“I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”
Matteo shifted to face me head-on. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“Then why did you turn me down the other night?”
“Because wanting you isn’t the problem, Matteo.”
He pushed a lock of my hair from my face. “Tell me what is, then.”
“Me. You live four thousand miles away from New York. And I’ve had my heart broken enough lately. Plus, I have a lot of trust issues. In fact, I’ve added some new ones in the last forty-eight hours. None of them have anything to do with you, but they still make me nervous about getting close to someone.”
“Of course.” Matteo looked down. “I understand.”
I didn’t think he did. As much as I didn’t want to go into details about things, I wanted him to understand the truth better. “Yesterday I found out I have a sister. A half sister.”
Matteo’s brows drew together. “You knew nothing about her? How is that possible?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea, other than she lives here in Italy, and I live in New York.”
“She is half? So she belongs to only one parent, then?”
“We have the same dad.”
“From before your parents were together?”
I shook my head. “Apparently, she’s four years younger than me.”
“And your parents, they were always together?”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to kill the mood. I just wanted you to know that it really isn’t you. I’ve developed trust issues over the last few years because of what I see every day at work. It feels like half the people who come to me for representation in their divorce have either been cheated on by their spouse or did the cheating themselves. Then add catching my own boyfriend to that, and it has made me wary of relationships. But I always trusted that there had to be some good ones out there, because my father was one of them. I thought he was a great husband and good dad.” I paused. “The worst part is, I’ll never know why he had an affair or chose not to tell me I had a sister because my father is gone. I don’t even know if he knew he had a child.”