Chapter 15 Matteo #2
Nicola leaned over the edge, arms folded across the railing. Her hair was a mess, and she was still catching her breath. She had never looked more beautiful. Smug, glowing, dangerous.
“Not my fault you threw yourself into the sea,” she said lazily. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Please,” I teased. “That was graceful as hell.”
“You cannonballed.”
I splashed water in her direction. “You’re just mad you didn’t jump first.”
She disappeared from view for a beat, and I was about to call something smug when I heard her voice again.
“Catch me, DeLuca.”
I barely had time to react before she was flying over the edge, limbs tucked, squealing as she hit the water with a laugh that shot straight through my chest.
She popped up beside me, shaking water from her face and grinning like she forgot to hate me for five whole seconds.
“That was reckless,” I said, treading water closer to her. “Kind of proud of you.”
“That was fun.”
I drifted toward her slowly, letting the current pull us together.
She was wearing the same blue bikini that made me want to buy her everything in that damn color.
Her legs brushed mine. Her hands floated up to my shoulders.
We were quiet for a moment, letting the sea hold us, our bodies close but not quite touching. The air between us sizzled anyway.
“I could get used to this,” I said softly, studying her face—the way her wet lashes clumped together, the way her lips curved up like she was trying not to smile.
I leaned in and brushed my lips to hers, a teasing brush.
Egging her on. ‘Kiss me back,’ it said. Her fingers slid up my neck into my hair, and she tugged me into her, her legs wrapping around me as she deepened the kiss.
“Used to what?” she asked after she was breathless.
“This. You. Being less terrifying.”
She laughed and dunked me under.
I came up sputtering, reaching for her with both hands. “Okay. That’s it.”
She shrieked and tried to swim away, but I caught her around the waist and pulled her back against me. She was slippery and squirming, laughing too hard to break free.
I held her there in the middle of the water, both of us breathless, and she finally settled, her back against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder.
“You know,” she said, barely audible, “It’s fun to be reckless.”
She turned, and I wrapped my arms around her more securely. “Good to let go once in a while.”
She snorted. “Maybe.”
“You look good like this,” I pointed out, water dripping down my nose as it almost touched her. I was holding her up, her legs wrapping around my core as if in reflex.
“Like what?”
“Free.”
I expected her to answer, make it a joke, or roll her eyes.
Instead, she closed them and tilted her head back, and I swore I felt her heart start to match mine, one quiet beat at a time.
I wanted to stay here, floating in this moment.
I liked all versions of Nicola, the scary fierce one, the sassy comeback one, and the slightly mean but flirty one.
But this version, the quiet one, the soft one—I felt like it was a version of her she didn’t share easily.
One she didn’t show the world. But she was starting to show me.
I wanted to do whatever I could to make her feel like she could be this version with me, that she was safe to be herself.
Later, the boat swayed gently as it cut through the water, the golden afternoon sun wrapping us in warmth. Nicola and I were stretched out across the sun-warmed cushions at the bow, our legs tangled lazily, a breeze whispering over the waves as we began the slow trek back to the dock.
“Ready to babysit the cutest kid in the world?” I asked, glancing over at her, shielding my eyes from the glare.
She didn’t answer right away. Her head was tipped back, resting on her hands behind her head, her eyes closed as the light brushed across her face.
It wasn’t like her to be this still, this quiet.
When she spoke, her voice was softer than I expected. “You know…I’d never really been around kids before Gianna. I always thought they were loud and sticky and exhausting.”
I huffed a laugh. “Not wrong.”
She cracked the smallest smile but went on. “But she’s different. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect to love her like this.” Her throat bobbed on a swallow. “Like…I’d burn the world down to keep her safe. She smiles at me, and I feel like my heart wasn’t even mine before.”
That cracked something open in me. I turned my head, watching her, letting the weight of her words settle between us.
“I didn’t know I could love like that,” she added quietly. “Not until her.”
I felt my chest pull tight. I knew exactly what she meant. Being Gia’s uncle had reshaped my entire world. The first time she called me Zio, I’d nearly burst into tears like some kind of sap.
“I get it,” I said after a beat. “When she runs up to me yelling my name or throws her arms around me just because…that’s it. That’s my whole universe right there.”
Nicola turned her head to meet my gaze. Her expression was open in a way I rarely saw, stripped of all her usual bite and fire. “Did you always want kids?”
I shook my head, thinking. “Not always. But I do now. After Gia, it’s…yeah. I want that. A family. Messy breakfasts. Chaos. Little shoes everywhere.”
She smiled, small and wistful. “You probably want a whole football team.”
“At least,” I said, smirking.
“You’d be an insufferably good dad.” Her voice was quieter, like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. My heart squeezed. I turned my face back to the sun, trying to play it cool, but the words hit somewhere deeper than I expected.
“I hope so,” I murmured. “That’s the dream, anyway.”
She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “What about after racing? Where do you see yourself?”
The image came easily, painted in the back of my mind like a permanent daydream. “Back in the countryside. Taking over the vineyard from my parents. Building a house on the edge of the property. Waking up with the sun, walking barefoot through the vines, drinking wine before lunch.”
She let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, but not quite. “That sounds peaceful.”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing at her again. “I think I’m chasing that kind of peace. That’s the end game for me.”
“Sounds rather nice,” she said thoughtfully.
“What about you? Ten years from now, where will Nicola Moretti be?” She laughed lightly, again she seemed free and light, I cherished it, like soaking in her sunlight.
“I started this year trying to find a spot for myself within Moretti Racing. I think my father has spent so long trying to get my brother, Michael, to get serious and involved in the family business that he just assumed I wasn’t interested.
I mean, I didn’t really ever say anything.
I finished university and worked a few different jobs, but nothing really stuck.
I just didn’t have that spark about any of it.
My dad, my grandfather, they’ve all had that racing spark.
I’ve grown up in the sport, going to races, growing up around racers themselves.
I was never super into racing; did a few karting runs with my brother when we were young, but that was about it.
I really like the charity side though. Doing the gala was the first time I felt that spark.
I think maybe I’d like to take up that end of the business.
I’ve been working on new ideas and presentations, had a few calls with the chairwoman, Henrietta. ”
“That’s really amazing, finding your spot in motorsport,” I said, reaching out and going to intertwine our fingers.
It was a reach; she wasn’t always a huge physical touch person except in heated moments.
She kept these walls up so high, not letting people in.
But I understood it, I had friends and teammates who grew up in motorsport with stupid amounts of old money, families that were riddled with legends.
They had a different level of expectation: always on, always perfect, always prepared.
Her fingers curled around mine, squeezing once. My heart squeezed right along with it.
“You know there’s really this whole other person under carefree, happy-go-lucky Matteo DeLuca, huh?” she said to the sky.
“I am basically an onion,” I replied, and Nicola burst out in laughter.
“Why is that what you picked as your metaphorical food?” she asked between fits of laughter.
“I have layers, baby,” I said, winking.