Chapter 31 Matilda
Luca kissed me. He. Kissed. Me.
In front of the crowd. On national TV.
My brain had a tough time forming coherent thoughts. It played the kiss on repeat, the warmth of Luca’s lips against mine, and how it felt like finally they were exactly where they were supposed to be.
I didn’t care about the potential fallout or the repercussions. The only thing that mattered was how incredible it felt to know Luca wanted me.
We’d smashed our performance; it was our best yet. Not only did we score the highest of that week, with thirty-two out of forty, but it was also the highest of the season so far.
However, I couldn’t attribute the buzz of anticipation pulsing through my veins to the score alone.
As soon as we stepped off the ice and took off our boots, we were separated by the crew backstage. But I spotted Luca a few minutes later near the exit, both sets of skates in hand. My toes curled, a warm heat coursing through my lower belly as I took in his flushed face and heated eyes.
Luca and I had grown closer over the past few weeks, but I was sure he would never take it any further.
And yet…the kiss had felt real. I’d seen it in his eyes the second before our lips touched.
I knew he felt the same pull to me as I did to him—the late-night dinners, the rehearsals, the trips to the beach, the almost-kiss.
And it felt good to be kissed and wanted by someone who I could be myself with. He didn’t want me because I’d served him a version of me that I thought he would want; he had kissed me for me.
I weaved through the crowd and made my way toward him. Just as I reached him, the corner of his mouth curved up ever so slightly—
Something caught his attention behind my shoulder. A flicker of frustration danced across his face as his eyes flashed with something.
I spun to see who was behind me, and Jack was standing there, beaming.
“I fucking told you that an on-screen kiss would work! My phone has been blowing up with the media wanting to get you two on shows and newspapers,” Jack declared, tapping on his phone incessantly.
Luca’s eyes locked with mine, and he grimaced.
Oh my god.
My stomach dropped, and a burning heat spread up my neck and across my face.
Any remaining lust from our kiss vanished, replaced with embarrassment. My heart sank as I grappled with the glaringly obvious fact.
He had kissed me for publicity.
Laughter bubbled out of me, but it was bitter.
How could I have been so stupid? He hadn’t kissed me because he liked the real me; he’d done it to ensure the public continued rooting for us. And I couldn’t even blame him. Sure, we hadn’t agreed to the kiss, but we had decided that we’d flirt to cause a stir.
I had just assumed it meant more.
“Matilda,” he started. “That sounds bad out of context.” He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Jack’s brow furrowed before understanding dawned on his face.
His expression was almost worse than Luca’s. Pity.
An ache formed in my temples, and I wasn’t sure whether it was from my tears or the sheer embarrassment of them knowing I’d believed the kiss was real.
“Um…I think I’ll catch you tomorrow,” I said, turning on my heel and darting away.
“Stevens, wait!” Luca called after me, but I picked up my pace. “Well done, dickhead.” His muffled voice carried over the chaos as I hurried in the opposite direction.
Had all of our stolen moments served only to make our ruse more believable? Were the dinners, the flirting, and the smiles merely to ensure we made it to the final?
I actually told him I’ve never been fucked.
A glance behind me as I raced down the hallway to our dressing room confirmed I’d lost Luca. I had to get out of there. I wasn’t sure where I would go yet, but I would save that particular meltdown for the car.
I turned and pushed through endless doors, taking every shortcut I could. I was only two corridors away when I ran straight into a very livid-looking Mark.
“You.” He pointed at me, his voice menacing, just as his walkie-talkie crackled and a voice filled the hallway.
Something about needing him backstage. We were still mid-show, after all.
I brushed past him, grateful for whoever was on the end of the device.
“I’ll deal with you properly later,” he shouted after me.
I didn’t bother acknowledging his threat. I needed to get out.
“Oh—fuck!” I shrieked, shocked as I rounded the corner into our dressing room and found Luca already there, chest heaving, skates still in hand. “Matilda,” he rushed out. “What Jack said—”
“Honestly, don’t worry,” I interrupted, deciding that my ego could only take so many hits in one night. The thought of Luca feeling guilty because I had misread the situation made me want to run for the hills. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I do,” he argued, dropping the skates.
I grabbed my bag and stuffed it with a few essentials before I made a run for it. “You don’t.” I avoided his gaze. “I have to get going anyway. My phone’s blowing up, and—Oh my god, my mum—” The burning behind my eyes intensified at the thought of having to explain this to her.
“Fuck, stop! Stop moving, Matilda.” Luca grabbed my shoulders. “It’s me. Stop pretending everything’s OK.”
“It’s fine.” I shrugged, trying to slip free from his grasp.
“Stop saying it’s fine.”
“It is.”
“Are we back to this again? Telling me what you think I want to hear?” he demanded.
“I am giving you an out, Luca. Let me leave, and I promise we can forget any of this ever happened.”
“Why the fuck do you think I want to forget? I chased you through the studio.”
“Because you feel guilty!” My voice cracked as I shouted.
“Do you believe I’d do something I didn’t want to out of guilt? Do you know me at all?”
“I don’t know! I’ve been getting some pretty mixed signals.” The embarrassment gave way to anger, surging and rising with my words.
“Then stop pretending everything’s fine!” His voice rose to match mine.
“What else do you want me to say?”
“The truth, Matilda! You’re on the brink of tears, and you’re telling me you’re OK? Even if you weren’t almost crying, you forget I know you.”
“I’m embarrassed, Luca! For some ridiculous reason, I thought you kissed me because you wanted to, not because Jack orchestrated it as some PR stunt.
And if you’d just told me at the start, you know I would have agreed to it, so I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask me instead of doing all the stupid extra stuff—”
“I kissed you because I fucking wanted to! Do you think I’d do anything I didn’t want to do? Or do you think I’d knowingly manipulate you after I’ve told you how important the truth is to me?”
I paused, searching his face for any hint of his true feelings as I processed his words.
“So why did Jack say that, then?”
“Because he did suggest it.” I flinched.
“But it was days ago and I promise, I had forgotten he’d even said it.
I kissed you because I wanted to. I’ve been telling myself that we couldn’t—it wouldn’t work—that our lives are too different.
I’ve tried so fucking hard not to be selfish with you, not to put my need for you above the consequences. ”
I shook my head, struggling to believe he wasn’t telling me this to make me feel better. I bit my lip to stop it from wobbling.
“But I’m selfish to the core, Matilda. I do things because I want to, and I don’t care for the consequences.”
I shifted the bag on my shoulder, but his hands reached for my face, gently pulling my attention back to him. His gaze was so intense, but I willed myself to hold my ground.
“I take that back.” His voice deepened, his eyes roaming over my face, lingering on my lips. “I haven’t been doing the things I’ve wanted to.”
“Huh?” My voice was barely audible above the beating of my heart.
“I mean…” He moved an inch closer. “You’ve been driving me insane for weeks.
I’ve been dying to touch you for weeks, but I’ve resisted.
” His words sliced through the air. “I was trying so hard not to be selfish with you, and that was my problem.” He stroked my bottom lip, staring at my face.
“It’s the exact opposite of what you’re accusing me of.
I didn’t kiss you and not want to; I haven’t been kissing you because I want to so fucking badly. ”
“Then why don’t you?” I whispered as his words sank in and a sense of trust washed over me.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed, before crushing his lips to mine.