4. Sand Heat and Shared Sheets #2
Guys were stretched out on sofas and rugs, talking over each other, laughing at jokes that had become incoherent hours ago.
The whole place felt young and loud and comfortable.
I froze at the doorway, already feeling like I did not belong.
Matteo brushed past me from behind, his hand catching my waist for just a second. A warm, casual touch. It jolted through me like a spark.
Inside, someone immediately handed me a soda without asking what I wanted.
Another guy grinned and asked how Matteo and I met.
Before I could stumble through an answer, Matteo cut in smoothly and told one version of our fake story with a confidence that made it sound real.
The guys nodded, approving, as if it made perfect sense that he and I were together.
No one really questioned how Matteo was dating a guy right now.
I sat on a wide sofa and Matteo dropped down beside me, close enough that our knees brushed when he shifted. I felt the contact straight through my leg.
He stole chips from the bowl balanced on my thigh and shrugged when I stared at him.
He stretched one arm across the back of the sofa behind my shoulders, not quite touching me, but close enough that the heat of him settled along my back.
Someone called us cute in a completely matter of fact tone and everyone agreed like it was obvious.
Every casual moment felt intimate. Too intimate. Like Matteo had forgotten the whole thing was pretend.
I kept catching myself watching him. The way he talked with his hands. The way he leaned back and laughed at something one of the guys said. The easy way he nudged my knee when he wanted my attention. The relaxed confidence of someone who felt completely at home.
He looked good like this. Loose. Warm. Smiling without thinking.
I kept remembering the kiss from a few days ago at his place. The press of his mouth on mine. The way he held my face like he had done it a hundred times before.
Hours slipped by. The air got softer and slower.
One guy was snoring on a bean bag. Ian had drifted half asleep on the other end of the sofa beside us.
Paul sat against the wall with his head tilted back like he had forgotten gravity.
Two others lay on a rug telling a story that had lost its beginning and its end.
Antonio stood and stretched lazily before looking around the room. “Alright boys. You can crash here. No point going home at this hour.”
He scanned the room. His eyes landed on Matteo and me. A slow grin spread across his face. “The room upstairs is empty. You two can take it. Be as loud as you want.”, he winked.
I choked. Matteo coughed and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh. The guys who were awake whistled and clapped like they had been waiting for this exact moment.
I raised both hands fast. “Oh..Antonio..No no no. I am good on the couch. Seriously. I am fine.”
Antonio booed dramatically. Someone patted the sofa beside me where Ian slept facedown, mumbling into a cushion.
Antonio rolled his eyes, “Adrian, the couch is already taken. Unless you want to sleep on top of Ian.”
Ian made a weak noise that could have been disagreement or agreement. Hard to tell.
I felt trapped. Exposed and Embarrassed. Like all of them could see straight through me.
Matteo stood and touched my forearm lightly. The kind of touch no one else would think twice about, but it lit up every nerve I had.
“Come on Cole. Let’s go upstairs.”
He said it close to my ear. Close enough that I felt his breath against my neck. My whole body tightened.
I nodded before I could think or breathe.
The walk upstairs felt different from everything before.
The lights in the hall were dim and warm.
Matteo walked ahead of me and I found myself watching the smooth line of his back, the way the soft fabric of his red shorts moved around his legs, the relaxed swing of his arms.
He looked tired and loose and unbelievably attractive.
My thoughts tangled into a tight knot. Nervousness. Want. Fear. Longing. Every feeling I had been trying to bury all day.
The room was small and simple. A queen bed. A single lamp. An open window letting in the sound of waves. The faint warmth of summer air drifting in.
Matteo closed the door. The quiet click sent a drop of heat straight down my stomach.
I tried to joke my way through the tension but my voice cracked slightly and the room felt even smaller.
“You are ok with this, right?” Matteo asked.
I lied that I was fine. I was not fine. I was the opposite of fine.
We stood there for a moment, both unsure how to move. The air was heavy with something unsaid. Matteo stepped closer. Just close enough that his warmth brushed my skin.
He lowered his voice. “You can take the left side. I move a lot. Just kick me if I bother you.”
My tongue felt too thick to answer. I nodded again, my heart frantic and loud.
The bed looked even smaller now. Matteo reached for the sheets and pulled them back in one smooth motion.
His red shorts sat low on his hips, hugging the lines of his body, making my breath snag.
His skin still held the heat of the beach.
A soft glow from the hallway painted the muscles of his stomach, each one drawing my eyes.
He climbed into the right side and lay back with an easy sigh. I tried not to stare at the shape of his legs or the way the mattress dipped under his weight.
I pulled my shirt off without thinking. My hands felt clumsy. I slid under the sheets and the bed dipped again. The space between us shrank to something small and dangerous.
Our shoulders brushed. Then our thighs. Not fully. Not deliberately. Just the natural closeness of two bodies in a bed too small.
Matteo shifted slightly. His skin touched mine again.
The waves outside faded into the background.
I lay on my back staring at the ceiling, trying not to breathe too loudly. Matteo lay beside me, close enough that every rise of his chest nudged the air between us. His arm was inches from mine. His thigh brushed the side of my leg whenever he moved.
We stayed like that. Silent. Heat building in the stillness.
My body was too aware of him. Every breath. Every small shift. Every accidental touch.
This was fucking insane and dangerous, but this was also everything I wanted.
I closed my eyes and felt Matteo settle deeper into the mattress beside me.
His body touched mine again, the faintest contact.
Bare skin against bare skin. The two of us lay in the same bed, so close I could feel his warmth seeping through me, both pretending to sleep, neither of us really breathing.
And the night stretched out in front of us. Quiet and full of possibility