Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Anya
“They’re back!” my cousin’s voice rings out from the living room. She’s been watching through the windows, waiting for our fathers to return.
If I wasn’t so nervous, I might have been too. Instead, I’ve been helping my aunt in the kitchen cutting up cheeses for a charcuterie snack board. Dinner is being taken care of by Grigory, of course, but he couldn’t tell Irina no when she declared she would take care of the pre-dinner bites.
Setting my knife down, I immediately move to the sink and start scrubbing my hands clean. I can’t have cheese on my fingers when Matteo walks in. Not that he’d try to shake my hand or touch them, anyway. But I just…I need to be perfect.
“Breathe, solnyshka. He’s just a boy.” My aunt rubs my back softly. Leaning closer, she whispers, “Even if he is your boy.”
“He’s not—” The denial dies on my tongue as the sound of the front door shutting hits my ears. “Do I look okay?”
“Stunning,” she replies without hesitation.
I don’t feel stunning, but I don’t feel like a mess, either.
I took care doing my hair and makeup today, and I picked out one of my more comfortable but pretty outfits to wear.
A long white blouse that could be a dress if I was comfortable wearing something so short, and a pair of regular black cotton pants with matching slippers.
“Your friend is tall,” Nadya reports, skipping into the kitchen with heavy footsteps following behind her.
“Is he?” my aunt asks, quickly winking at me before turning to her daughter.
I don’t have the ability to respond to Nadya’s observation. I’m too busy focusing on breathing because I feel like time is slowing down. Like I’m halfway between panicking and passing out as anticipation floats around the room…until everything suddenly returns to a normal pace.
The air freezes in my lungs when he walks in.
Flanked by my uncles, Matteo Moretti strides into the Morozov family home like he doesn’t feel even remotely unwelcome.
There should be a clear tension visible between him and Uncle Lev at least, given how hostile my uncle has been toward Matteo in the past, and yet, I see nothing of the sort.
At least not on Matteo’s end.
“Oh, give the poor boy some space,” my aunt instructs, walking over to the group of men. She shoos them away and surprises Matteo by wrapping him in a quick, almost motherly hug. “It’s so nice to meet you in person. I hope your travel was good?”
“Ugh, yeah,” Matteo stammers as she pulls back, smiling at him. “It was good, and it’s nice to meet you in person too.”
“Well, let’s give these two a couple minutes alone together,” Aunt Irina prompts with a clap before hooking her arm around her husband’s. “They don’t need all of us staring at them while they catch up.”
“Yes they do,” Uncle Lev grumbles. Though he looks upset about it, he doesn’t dig his heels in and refuse to move, he lets her drag him out of the kitchen.
“You too, boys,” she chimes over her shoulder, waving for my father and Uncle Mikhail to join them.
“What could they have to catch up about?” Dad questions in a huff as he reluctantly leaves. “They talk every single day.”
Uncle Mikhail says nothing, but he pins Matteo with a warning glare as he follows the group.
Matteo chuckles awkwardly, giving my uncle a swift wave goodbye.
Turning to me, my friend blows out a breath, eyebrows raised as if to say well, that was something.
“Hi,” I finally say, breathing out in relief.
“Hi,” Matteo echoes, smiling as he does. “Feels different to say that in person, doesn’t it?”
You have no idea.
“A little,” I lie, trying to appear composed. “I hope they weren’t too rude to you…my uncles and my dad. I didn’t know they were going to pick you up and stay with you until it was time to come over. You may as well have just come straight here.”
“Pshh.” Matteo waves me off. “It was nothing. Big softies, all of ’em. Pretty sure they like me, they just have to pretend like they don’t.”
My eyes widen at his description and he laughs.
Looking over his shoulder to the kitchen entrance he shakes his head. “Man, I hope they didn’t hear that.”
My lips fold in, smothering a giggle. “So, not so sure on the whole liking you front?”
“I’m working on it,” he assures me, shrugging. “They’re tough nuts to crack, but I’m stubborn. And competitive. I’ll make them like me eventually.”
“You’ll need that determination,” Aunt Irina sings, floating back into the kitchen. I startle, not expecting her back so soon. “Don’t worry, kids, I’m not here to spy and ruin your reunion. The men are antsy so I’ve come to fetch vodka.”
Matteo winces slightly, giving her a weary look. “Are they more or less agreeable while drinking?”
My aunt titters, fetching a full bottle from the freezer. She pulls it out and gives it a little shake at him. “You’re about to find out, why ruin the surprise?”
“Oh, God,” I mutter, watching as she glides out of the room, turning around to give me a wink before disappearing down the hall.
“I don’t know whether I should be relieved or frightened,” Matteo admits, scratching the back of his head.
“I don’t know either,” I agree, biting my lip. “My father doesn’t usually drink around me, and Uncle Lev could drink vodka for breakfast like it’s water. I don’t know if it will affect his mood at all, really.”
Matteo hums, dipping his head in acknowledgment.
“My aunt promised she would be on our side today, though,” I quickly add. “She teases, but she won’t let them cross a line.”
“Well, I’m glad to have her as an ally, then.” He tilts his head, considering. “To be honest, I don’t care what they say or do to me. As long as they don’t upset you, I’m cool.”
“Are you sure?” I ask quietly, hoping he is.
“I’ve got eight older brothers, remember?
” he jokes, seeming confident. “I know how to deal with grumpy men and their needling. If two decades with Apollo has done anything for me, it’s given me thick skin.
The guy claims to love us all, but he’s definitely not had the most soft and caring way of showing it. ”
“I’m sure he loves you.” I can’t imagine anyone not loving Matteo.
“Maybe.”
Not knowing what else to say, I fold my hands together awkwardly. “We should probably go join them before they get too agitated. Grigory should be back to finish up dinner in a minute too. He likes his space.”
“Well, if he’s anything like Martha, getting out of his way is a great idea,” he agrees with a chuckle. “Lead the way?”
“Sure.”
Thankfully, the dining room is close by and large enough that it doesn’t feel crowded when we arrive. The first person to greet us is probably the best option of them all, considering I can see the bottle my aunt just brought in has already been cracked open.
“Matteo, this is my cousin Nadya,” I tell him, gesturing to her as she stands in front of us. “Nadya, this is my friend Matteo.”
Nadya sticks her hand out lightning fast, offering it in greeting. “I know who you are, Dmitri married your sister. Mama told me about you.”
Matteo chuckles and shakes her hand softly. “I know who you are too, you’re the ballerina. Anya told me about you.”
“You did?” Nadya asks, her eyes shooting to mine. She sounds amazed by the prospect, and her wide expression can’t hide her surprise.
“Anya tells me about all the important people in her life,” Matteo informs her matter-of-factly, taking his hand back.
She continues to look at me like I might deny his claim, but I offer a short smile in confirmation. The shine in Nadya’s eyes is almost watery, and not for the first time, I feel guilty for being so absent in her life these past few years.
“She told me you looked just like your mother,” Matteo continues, sensing the emotional tension. “But I didn’t realize she meant that you were her mini twin.”
Nadya’s head whips toward him and her mouth drops open. “You think we look like twins?”
Telling a twelve-year-old girl that she looks younger but identical to her supermodel mother has got to be one of the most charming things he could possibly do.
“Oh yeah,” he confirms. “And I’m qualified to make such a statement. You know, I have two sets of twins for brothers.”
Nadya blinks in surprise. “You do?”
“I do.” He nods. “Elio and Emilio, and Nico and Remo.”
“Whoa.”
Matteo chuckles. “If you think that’s whoa, I can’t imagine anyone has told you that I have eight brothers total. Not to mention my sisters.”
“Eight?” Nadya exclaims. Turning to her parents, she puts her hands on her hips. “Why couldn’t I have that many?”
Aunt Irina chokes on her drink, coughing to swallow it down. “You don’t even have one sibling and now you want eight?”
Nadya seems even more perturbed at her mother’s question. “Why does he get to have eight and I get none?”
Matteo laughs, finding my young cousin hopelessly amusing. “I don’t know if you know how lucky you are, Nadya. Can you imagine having to share all your stuff with eight other people?”
Eyes flaring wide in a scandalized gasp, Nadya gapes at him. “I wouldn’t have to share with them. They’d have their own things!”
“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Matteo chuckles, shaking his head.
“Siblings love stealing each others’ things.
Even when they have their own. My brother Armani likes taking my shoes, for instance.
He doesn’t even want to wear them, he just thinks they’re ugly and he wants me to wear better ones. ”
Nose scrunching, Nadya looks down at his feet. “He’s right.”
A startled laugh bursts out of me before I can smother it, and Aunt Irina gasps. “Nadya! That’s rude, you shouldn’t say such things out loud.”
Matteo, to his credit, only laughs along with me. “I should thank you for the honesty, but these aren’t even a pair my brother would call ugly. Or at least, he wouldn’t throw them away.”
“They’re boring,” Nadya decides seriously, glancing back down at Matteo’s all-white trainers. “They should be shiny, or black like my papa’s.”