Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
JADE
“Julian Hart was a thorn in my side. A thorn I wanted to pluck out and slip into my pocket for later.” - Clara Foss, Painted Inferno
The muscles in my hand ache from the last few hours of figuring out the ins and outs of this book. I set my pen down on the counter beside my notebook. This is the first time I’ve come up for air or have taken a break from it.
I slowly rise from my seat at the island in my kitchen, and scan over the scattered post-it notes with different pieces of information scratched on them.
I never said my process was neat.
My ears need a break from my headphones, so I slip them off and set them on the counter.
I could use a lap around the kitchen too, but the stiffness in my knees and hips cause me to slowly unfold to stand.
I have to pause to stretch my muscles. I hadn’t realized how locked in I’d been, I guess I hadn’t changed positions in a while.
Then again, I was curled over the counter in the same posture as a hunchback goblin.
I pick up my phone while I down a gulp of water, switching it back on for notifications to come through. There’s one from Nicole, two in the group chat with the girls, and one other that causes my stomach to do a little flip.
Matteo Ford.
Communication with him has been interesting to say the least. I’ve found myself looking forward to his texts while he’s been on the road. They left last Monday and have been gone for over a week now.
He said he’d be gone for almost two weeks while they’re playing on the west coast, but to plan on going out with him to celebrate when he gets home.
Not for a date. Oh god, no, never a date.
I take another sip of my water, ignoring the pitter patter of my heart as I unlock my phone and open the message from him. A slow smile pulls on my lips as I read his words.
Matteo
Sunny, you’re on my mind again.
Jade
Sounds like a personal problem.
Matteo
Not so sure it’s a bad one, honestly.
I scored a nasty goal at the end of the third tonight.
My eyes flick to the time in the upper right corner of my phone. He’s on the west coast, three hours behind me right now. I hadn’t even realized it was already after two o’clock in the morning.
Jade
You’re welcome for that.
Matteo
Probably would have had a hat trick if you watched the game.
I chuckle to myself, shaking my head. I don’t get involved with athletes, and watching a game for the sole purpose of watching one player feels pretty involved.
Jade
That wasn’t part of the agreement, remember?
Matteo
I think I need an addendum.
What are you doing awake? It’s late.
I take a picture of the mess on the counter, and send it to him.
Jade
Sometimes I work better at night when the rest of the world is quiet.
Matteo
I get that.
Do you have a title yet?
Jade
Painted Inferno.
Matteo
I like that. When can I read it?
Jade
After I convince myself it’s not complete trash.
He doesn’t respond at first and I set my phone back down, planting my hands on the counter as I stare down at the mess I still need to organize. My phone vibrates again after a moment, except this time it’s not the normal short pattern from a text message.
My eyes widen as I glance at the screen. He’s calling me. We only spoke on the phone one time when I was rambling to him about this book last Sunday. Other than that, all communication has been through text.
My palms are instantly clammy. I swallow roughly, feeling the vibrations of the second ring. I could let it go to voicemail. I suck in a breath, holding it for a second before answering the call on an exhale.
“Hello?”
“I hope it’s okay I called,” he says in a rush. My breathing quickens at the sound of his voice, low and gravely.
“No, it’s okay. I just—I wasn’t expecting it.”
He’s silent for a moment and I quickly shuffle some of my things around on the counter. My eyes are beginning to feel like they’re permanently crossed. This mess will be here for me to sift through in the morning.
“You’re not busy, are you?”
“No.” My footsteps are light as I exit the kitchen, heading down the hall to my bedroom. “What are you doing?”
“I just got out of the shower, getting ready for bed. We have an early flight in the morning.”
“Are you guys flying back to Hillford?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Usually at the end of a roadtrip we fly home the same night, but since it’s so late, we were able to just stay tonight.”
“That makes sense. With the time difference, you guys wouldn’t be back until early morning anyways.”
“I sleep like shit on planes,” he admits as I put him on speakerphone and set my phone on the counter. I grab my toothbrush, sliding some paste across the bristles. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed, too.”
“Perfect timing,” he says softly.
“I’m going to brush my teeth. Tell me about your game or something so we’re not just sitting in awkward silence.”
Matteo laughs softly as I wet the toothbrush and put it in my mouth. He starts to tell me how their team is turning things around. They’ve won every game on their road trip and his points are up. I scrub my teeth as I listen to him intently, smiling at how his voice fluctuates with emotion.
Something about him demands my attention. I know better than to get involved with him, but that doesn’t mean I won’t let myself feel the way his presence draws me in.
I don’t bother to tell him I’m finished as I pull my hair back into a braid and walk into my bedroom. The words finally fall from his lips, the silence stretching as I’m sliding in between the covers on my bed.
“Sunny?”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t know if you were still there.”
“Yeah,” I breathe, ignoring the smile creeping onto my face. “I was just listening.”
“I didn’t call to tell you all about my night.”
I lie down on my side, tucking my other hand beneath my head. “What did you call for then?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me a story.” He pauses, his voice low. “The one you were working on all night.”
I don’t know what my hesitation is. Sharing my story ideas and brainstorming with him is what our pact is all about.
“It’s not about you, if that’s what you were thinking.
” I inhale deeply, holding the air in my lungs a moment before resigning myself to the fact that I should just tell him.
“It’s about two people who end up falling for each other, even when they know they shouldn’t. ”
“When they swear they wouldn’t?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yeah.”
“Can you tell me more?”
“I told you, I don’t share my work until I can convince myself that it’s not trash.”
“I refuse to believe anything you write is trash.” Matteo is quiet for a beat. “I looked you up. Everyone loves you and your work. You didn’t tell me you’re famous like that.”
I blow out a breath. “I feel more like a has-been lately.”
“You’re not,” he declares. “I refuse to believe that. You’re working on your next bestseller and it’s going to go crazy. Don’t worry, I will be telling anyone who’ll listen to go read it.”
“Oh god,” I groan, dragging my hand down my face. I didn’t consider him and his overly confident self. I didn’t once think that maybe he’ll go telling everyone that he helped me with inspiration and research.
I do not want to be labeled as another one of Matteo Ford's conquests.
“I should have made you sign an NDA or something.”
Matteo clicks his tongue with amusement. “Am I your dirty little secret, Sunny?”
“No.” The word comes out without hesitation. “I just—you have quite the reputation and ego.”
“Hm,” he murmurs, the sound almost detached. “Wouldn’t want to tarnish yourself and your work with someone like me, is that it?” He sighs, long and exasperated. “For the record, you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet or hear from unreliable sources.”
“Are you saying that none of it is true? That you don’t just jump from one woman to the next?”
“It’s not like that.” I detect a hint of defensiveness in his tone, then he continues a little softer, “I don’t sleep with everyone I date.”
My stomach sinks, although there’s a bit of relief I shouldn’t be feeling. His dating life isn’t my concern, I should just leave it alone. “Then tell me what it’s like.”
The silence stretches. I shouldn’t have even asked. Matteo and I have a deal—an agreement—and this is not part of it. We can be friendly, friends even, without knowing each other’s secrets.
“It doesn’t matter,” he finally says. “I should get some sleep.”
The abrupt ending to our conversation has me reeling, panic rolling in the pit of my stomach. That wasn’t the turn it was supposed to take. The words I spoke, I couldn’t stop them from coming out. I don’t know why I said any of it.
None of it should matter to me anyways.
“Matteo, I’m sorry,” I say in a rush, wishing I could take back all the words I spoke. “That was rude of me and I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing you said was untrue.” He sighs, sounding more tired now than he did when he first called. “I’ll text you when I’m back in Hillford. I still want to take you out to celebrate.”
My throat tightens, hope bubbling in my chest. “You do?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Okay,” I say softly, swallowing hard. The fluttering in my stomach is an annoyance that needs to be extinguished. There’s no reason to entertain it. Every interaction, every conversation, every second spent together—it’s all for the plot.
“Goodnight, Matteo.”
He lets out another deep breath. “Night, Sunny.”
Again, we both linger on the phone a moment longer than we need to, like neither of us wants to hang up just yet. A smile tugs on my lips and I hear a quiet laughter from him. It’s as if both of our fingers are hovering over the end call button, waiting to see who does it first.
“Goodnight,” I whisper.
“Goodnight,” he murmurs back, just before I press the button and end the call. I slide my phone onto my nightstand, roll onto my back, and stare up at the ceiling, my heart thumping against my ribcage.
We’re both knowingly using one another, but this feels like a dangerous game we’re playing. It’s like we’re on a slippery slope, on the precipice of falling. One wrong step and we’re both going down.