4. Evie #2
Matteo puts the drill down before sliding his hands in his pockets. “I thought this might make you feel more comfortable. You know, since it’s going to take some time to get you back on your feet and find a place.”
It takes a moment for his statement to truly sink in, for the changes in front of me to make sense, and when they do, I can’t hide the surprise from my voice. “You redecorated your guest room for me?”
Matteo’s eyes don’t leave mine as he dips his chin in answer.
I’m stunned speechless. I’m afraid to check the clock, afraid to see how long I was asleep for, because in that little time, Matteo filled the room with everything I love, placing all my favorites in one space.
Little does he know, he’s one of them.
Pulling my eyes from his is a struggle but it’s a battle I’m used to, a current I’m always fighting against. I try to take a cue from Matteo and lock away my reactions but I can’t. He brought the ocean to me.
The comforter is a gorgeous light blue and white pattern. He’s placed seashell décor on the bedside tables, prints of whales and dolphins swimming line the walls, and the drill that woke me up was being used to hang a TV.
Valenti went out and bought me a TV.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I stutter.
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s nothing.”
My head snaps toward him, my eyes wide and no doubt red-rimmed. “It’s not nothing.”
Allowing myself to truly take in the sight of him for the first time in…years, I struggle not to be swept away.
Matteo’s father is Columbian, his mother Venezuelan, and it combined to make deep black curly hair cut close to his scalp, a six-foot-five frame with broad shoulders and muscles, and the most gorgeous glowing brown skin.
It glistens with sweat now, the rich color making his emerald eyes shine.
He’s stoic, always stoic, but there was a little sliver that poked out when we interacted.
I never saw it rise to the surface with anyone else, and growing up with him practically living at our house, I watched, constantly, and that spark only ever came out for me.
It made me think things I never should have. It’s what got my heart broken all those years ago.
And yet, I clearly didn’t learn my lesson because that spark is present again now, and it’s doing things to my insides that I didn’t think my body was capable of feeling any longer.
I forgot how much I love to try and decipher that look of his.
It’s addicting—he’s addicting.
Swallowing thickly, I step forward, wanting to hug him, but hesitation stops me in my tracks.
He must see it in my expression because in the next breath he’s frowning at me, his hands twitching by his sides before he shakes his head and sits back on his heel.
“I hope this makes you feel comfortable enough.”
“It’s more than enough. Thank you,” I whisper, surprised I’m not crying again but maybe I’ve run out of tears.
Is that even possible?
Matteo shrugs as if this isn’t the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, but I should be used to these grand gestures followed by nonchalance. After all, growing up he’d hand me the moon only to turn around and say it was nothing.
Reaching forward, he picks up a remote, logging into his streaming services. “I figured you’d want to watch your apocalypse movies.”
A smile tries to break free. “You didn’t want to be subjected to that in the living room?”
“Nah, I don’t mind them. Just thought you needed a safe space to land.”
Emotion clogs my throat.
“We have to share a bathroom so I cleared out some drawers for you. You can use Caleb’s bathroom if you want more privacy but fair warning, he’s—”
“A slob, I know. It’s fine, I don’t mind sharing a bathroom.” I narrow my eyes at him. “So long as you leave the toilet seat down.”
He salutes me. “Yes, ma’am.” Lowering his hand, he watches me out of the corner of his eye. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Not even for sour worms?”
My spine straightens at that. “You bought sour worms?”
Rising, he throws the remote down on the bed before striding out of the room, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I did, but you said you’re not hungry, so don’t worry about—”
I shove his shoulder. “You know I’m always hungry for sour worms! Come on, Valenti, where are they?”
He takes his time walking down the stairs, the corner of his lip twitching.
The bastard is enjoying this.
In the kitchen, Matteo opens a cupboard, then throws them clear across the island. Quickly snatching them, a smile finally breaks free along my cheeks as I open the bag of candy.
“You’re a fiend.”
“And you’re my favorite person.” Popping a sour worm in my mouth, I all but moan. It feels weird to be smiling, odd for my muscles to be moving in this way after what’s occurred, but that’s Matteo’s power over me.
Opening my eyes to reach into the bag for another, I find Matteo leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest, the muscles bunching.
He doesn’t hide his assessing gaze. “It’s been a while, Dove.”
My chewing slows. I knew I couldn’t avoid this. Sighing deeply, I pull out one of the three stools, taking a seat as I prepare for the questions. I take a play from his book and shoot for nonchalance, shrugging like I don’t care, like it doesn’t make my mouth burn to lie to him. “Have been busy.”
His brow quirks. “I’m not Caleb. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“The truth would be nice.”
“Truth of what?”
“Of why you’ve been avoiding your family.” He cocks his head, his pause full of a heaviness that makes me struggle to swallow. “And, in turn, me.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you, but where you go—”
“Caleb goes,” he finishes for me.
I snort. “I’m surprised no one has nicknamed you the Velcro babies.”
Matteo pushes off the island, lowering himself across from me on the counter and leaning on his forearms so we’re at eye level. “Funny.”
“Oh yeah, that really got a crack out of you.”
His lip twitches.
I point at it and grin. “Ooh, almost got you there. Just a thousand and one more jokes to go.”
“I smile.” Ignoring the look I give him, he goes on. “Anyways, I just figured you might want to talk to someone who isn’t family. You know me, I’m a vault.”
That he is. Matteo’s kept a lot of my secrets over the years. Far too many to count.
But the last time I opened up to someone, those two people destroyed me. “Don’t take it personally, but I’m finding it a bit hard to trust at the moment.”
“Fair enough, but you know you can trust me.”
“Touché,” I murmur before placing another sour worm in my mouth. But our gazes remain locked and my lips remain sealed.
His head pulls back slightly. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
I shake my head.
“That—” Matteo cuts himself off. He rises, scrutinizing me. “Usually just one question from me and you’re off like a rocket. I think I’ve said more to you than you have me and that’s—” He pauses, blinking. “Are you sick?”
His genuine concern makes my stomach turn.
“Not sick, just aware of my voice’s octave,” I emphasize, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from my voice.
“Octave?”
“Oh yes, apparently my voice is constantly an octave too high.” I mockingly gasp. “Oh, and apparently I talk just to hear the sound of my voice!”
Matteo’s eyes darken before he growls, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
I wave him off. “You almost did if the blood and busted-up hand is anything to go by. Honestly, Matteo, it’s fine, I know I talk too much—”
“You don’t talk enough. It’s why I’m currently begging for scraps, and that piece of shit silenced you because he is the one who likes to hear the sound of his voice.”
A wave of deep exhaustion overcomes me so suddenly my hands drop to the kitchen island, a sour worm tumbling from my grasp.
My appetite even for my favorite candy has vanished.
Rolling up the bag, I keep my eyes downcast as I whisper, “Thanks for the sour worms. I’m feeling tired, though. I’m going to take a nap.”
“Dove,” Matteo whispers, crestfallen at my sudden retreat.
I hold up a hand. “It’s okay.”
Sliding from the stool, I leave the kitchen, trying to run away from the one person that can see through everything and has the power to make me face the things I’ve been hiding from.
Because based on the sudden tiredness and lack of feeling in my mind and body, I’m nowhere near ready to face the demon that’s been haunting me.