Chapter 14 Nicola
NICOLA
The next morning arrived in slivers of gold through gauzy white curtains.
The scent of salt and citrus drifted in from the open balcony doors, the sound of distant waves lapping the shore.
I stretched out in bed, my limbs heavy with that soft, glowy exhaustion only wine, sea air, and kissing someone you’re definitely not supposed to be kissing could cause.
Matteo wasn’t there.
I told myself that was a good thing.
Still, the imprint of him was everywhere. His laugh echoed faintly in my head. My skin still tingled from the memory of his hands on me, the way he looked at me like I was something wild and sacred and entirely his.
I brushed it off, grabbed a towel, and made my way downstairs sporting a loose dress over a bikini after Lucia texted me that it was a designated pool day.
By the pool, it was already a picture of calm chaos.
Gianna’s squeals echoed as she splashed in the shallow end, bright pink floaties on her arms and curls flying everywhere.
Lucia sat perched on a lounger in oversized sunglasses and a floppy sunhat, flipping through a book while keeping one eye on her daughter.
Alexander was sitting on the ledge of the pool with Gianna, smiling at her.
“Nicola!” Gianna shrieked when she saw me, paddling over like a tiny hurricane. “Come swim!”
I smiled. “Only if you promise not to splash me.”
“Nope,” she said, then walked up the steps only to immediately jump in, with a splash to my legs.
Lucia snorted behind her book. “You walked into that one.”
I shrugged and peeled off my robe, slipping into a lounge chair beside her. “I was hoping to ease into the day, not get attacked by a mermaid.” I stuck out my tongue to Gianna who giggled and dipped back under the water.
“You look suspiciously happy,” she said, peering at me over her sunglasses, eyebrows high.
I made a noncommittal noise. “Wine and sea air. Works wonders.”
I glanced across the pool just as Matteo appeared, hair damp, T-shirt clinging to him, sunglasses pushed up into his curls.
He was carrying a tray of fresh juices and pastries from the kitchen, whistling softly like it was the most natural thing in the world to be that annoyingly attractive and cheerful in the morning.
He met my eyes, giving me a lopsided grin.
I looked away, heart thudding like a traitor.
“Breakfast delivery,” he announced, setting the tray down between the chairs. “One orange juice, one mystery smoothie, and about fourteen pastries.”
Alexander eyed the tray. “Thanks, Mate!”
Gianna climbed out of the pool, soaking wet, and beelined straight for Matteo, who caught her without flinching.
“I swam like a fish,” she announced proudly.
“You did,” he agreed. “Like a very loud, splashy fish.”
He wrapped a towel around her and ruffled her hair, and something in my chest squeezed.
Matteo lifted his head, brows raising, perceptive eyes meeting mine. “You okay, Moretti?”
“I’m good,” I said quickly, my heart rate picking up. It was like he could sense something was off even while immersed in Gianna Land. I pushed out a smile, trying to brush it off. I could feel his gaze on me as I pulled out a book and leaned back on the chaise lounge.
Alexander and Matteo were poolside with Gianna who was showing them her pool tricks which consisted of spinning in her floaties. I smiled to myself watching them adore Gianna.
Lucia pushed up her sunglasses, peering over at me. “You alright?” she asked casually, flipping a page in her book.
“Mm,” I sipped. “Jet lag.”
Lucia snorted. “We’ve been in Italy for over a day.”
“Emotional jet lag.”
She side-eyed me. “Right.”
A deep laugh grabbed my attention, shifting my eyes under my oversized sunglasses to Matteo.
Like there was some sort of gravitational pull there.
His hair was a mess, getting curly with its length, chest bare, sunglasses perched on his nose.
He had Gia in one arm and a juice box in the other, doing a dramatic reenactment of her flying around.
She was giggling so hard she nearly fell over.
My heart did that annoying little skip thing again, and I already knew Lucia had caught me staring.
“So,” Lucia said slowly, “What’s going on with you and my brother?”
I nearly choked on my drink. But I really shouldn’t have been surprised at my friend’s bluntness.
“What?” I replied, trying not to sound guilty immediately.
She shrugged. “You’ve been weird. He’s been weird. I’m not blind.”
“I’m not weird.”
“You just said you had emotional jet lag.”
“Which is a real thing,” I argued. “Look it up.”
Lucia just lifted her brow and waited.
“I know what you probably think…” I said finally, careful not to look over at Matteo. “But nothing real is going on. Your brother is—” I paused, searching.
“Infuriating?” she offered helpfully.
“Yes. Exactly.”
Lucia took a long sip of her drink, watching me over the rim. “You two bicker like an old married couple.”
“Gross,” I muttered. “Don’t you start romanticizing. We’re just fundamentally incompatible.”
“Sure.”
“And he’s your brother.”
“And?”
“And I’m not looking for anything.”
Lucia turned her attention back to her book, but there was a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth that made me want to dunk her in the pool.
“He makes you laugh,” she said, not looking up.
“That’s just his whole thing. He jokes. He flirts. It’s harmless.”
Lucia hummed. “Nothing about the way he looks at you seems harmless.”
I went still, heartbeat stuttering, and tried to let out a fake laugh. “You’re imagining things.”
“Hmm,” she hummed to herself with a smirk.
I took another long sip of my drink, willing the bubbles to settle the war going on inside me. This thing with Matteo—it was nothing. Temporary. ‘Burn it out of our systems’ kind of thing.
But the way my body reacted when I saw him? The way he looked at me when no one else was paying attention? The way I felt when I was around him?
Not. Nothing.
Lucia finally looked over, sunglasses sliding down her nose. “Just…be careful, okay?”
I offered her a dry smile. “When am I not careful?”
Lucia laughed, tipping her glass toward me in a silent toast. Before I could sip again, a splash of water slapped against our loungers, soaking the bottom half of my dress.
I jolted upright. “What the—?”
That was no tiny splash from Gianna.
I glanced toward the pool just as water settled from a large cannonball. My swim cover dress clung to my thighs, soaked and wrinkled. With a resigned sigh, I stood and pulled the damp fabric over my head, revealing the swimsuit beneath.
I felt it before I saw it—heat on the back of my neck. A weighty stare that dripped down my spine like honey.
I lifted my gaze slowly.
Matteo was in the pool, water lapping at his waist, skin glistening in the sun. His curls were slicked back, droplets tracing the lines of his abs. A hand pushing into his hair, smoothing back the wet strands in what felt like slow motion. But it was his eyes that hit me hardest.
Locked on me.
My pulse skipped. I forced myself to roll my eyes and turned back toward Lucia like his gaze didn’t just ignite a full-body flush.
“Your brother is a menace,” I muttered.
Lucia hummed knowingly into her straw. “Tell me something I don’t know.”