Chapter 20 #3
“Hmmmm.” His arm around me feels so protective, so comforting. I’m scared that I’m dreaming and this isn’t real, because how surreal is this? Instead of coping alone, I have someone who is genuinely concerned about me.
My boss, no less.
I savor the moment and we sit like that for a while, in comfortable silence. This is what it feels like to have someone show up in your life. To know that if you’re in pain, they notice.
It's what bonded me to Vlad all those years ago, his care of me, which was so alien to me before then. He took one look at where I was living, with the dirty needles on the floor, the damp walls and stained mattresses, and helped me move somewhere safer.
He gave me work so I could afford it. He taught me how to turn the one thing I was good at into a career. He looked out for me and believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. But it was never romantic. Not even close.
What’s happening here is different. Dangerously different. Because when Matteo looks at me, I don’t feel just protected.
I feel wanted.
I feel seen.
Maybe that’s why my heart keeps beating so hard. I tilt my head back against the couch and glance up at him. “I feel like we’ve known each other for a long time,” I murmur, wondering what it would be like to have him here, for longer, not just a fleeting visit.
I’m sick of being alone.
“Same.”
“And yet, there’s so much about you I don’t know.”
“What do you want to know?” he asks.
I pause to think. There are times when it feels like I understand this man, but sometimes it’s obvious I don’t.
Like now, for instance. In this moment, with both of us sitting snuggled up together. Like Arthur and Irene sometimes do, especially when she’s had an episode and she’s forgotten something. He holds her close, trying to find some remnant of the woman he has loved for decades.
I never expected this from Matteo, and yet here we are. But he’s at an advantage. “You have the upper hand here. You know more about me, because you’ve got my resume.”
He shifts, adjusting his arm around me so that it rests easily in the crook of my neck. “Your resume just gives me a dressed-up version of you.”
“Dressed up?” I cry, exaggerating my indignation. “It’s the truth.” Or at least, as much of the truth as I felt comfortable sharing. I didn’t lie, or deceive anyone. I just hid the parts I didn’t want exposed. “I haven’t seen your resume.”
He shifts his body away, flips a hand at himself. “This is me. Everything about me is written on my body.”
“I’ll have to spend some time reading it.”
“I would love for you to take your sweet time reading it, babe.”
Babe. It sends a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah?” I look up at him. “Will it be like unwrapping presents on Christmas Day?”
“Hell, you can unwrap me any time you want. Don’t have to wait until Christmas Day.”
I blush, with heat creeping up my neck. Not from embarrassment. Not from my hot water bottle. From the feelings stirring inside my belly, the throbbing sensation between my legs. “We’re not in a cold server room,” I remind him.
“We’re not.” But he doesn’t do anything.
“We also won’t have any interruptions.” I smile at him. His eyes fall to my lips, and I know he wants to kiss me, and I so badly want him to.
“You want me to kiss you here now?” he asks, as if reading my mind.
I tilt my face upwards in answer. He moves his head closer to mine and I brace myself in anticipation, but at the last minute, he moves away. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, not in this condition.”
I’m about to protest when we hear a knock at the door. My heart sinks, because I already know who it is. So much for not being interrupted.
Bless him. But also, Arthur, why now?
I open the door and he sees Matteo over my shoulder. “Are you okay, Lizzie?” he asks.
I laugh. “Relax, Arthur, it's fine. He's my...” I trail off, suddenly unsure what to call Matteo.
My boss?
My friend?
The guy who almost kissed me at work and then came to see me at home with a care package?
Matteo steps forward and offers his hand. “I’m Matteo.”
Arthur ignores the hand completely, his gaze going instead to his tattoos and bracelets. “Shouldn't you be at work?” he asks. “What is it that you do?”
I’m horrified. “Arthur!”
“What?” He looks genuinely offended. “I'm doing due diligence.”
Matteo laughs. “I ... uh ... I work with computers.”
I groan and cover my face. “Arthur, please stop interrogating my guests.”
Arthur points a finger at Matteo. “Just remember, son. This floor has very thin walls and a surprisingly efficient neighbourhood watch.”
Matteo's mouth twitches. “Noted.”
Arthur studies him for another second, then nods once. “Alright. You seem less suspicious than the last boyfriend.”
“I've never had a boyfriend here,” I protest.
“Exactly,” Arthur says. “Which is why the bar is currently very low.”
Before I can die of embarrassment, he pats my shoulder. “Feel better, Lizzie.”
Then he wanders back toward his apartment. I close the door and lean my forehead against it. Behind me, Matteo is laughing and I turn around and start laughing, too.