Chapter 42 Matilda #2
Photographs of him and his mother hung on the walls, spanning from when they’d attended red carpet events together, back to when he was a child sitting on her lap.
There were no photographs of his father, but lots of Luca, Jack, and, I guessed, Jack’s family—mainly at what looked like their summer camp.
Along the shelves of the warmly lit hallway sat movie memorabilia from the films he had starred in. Plants sprawled in many of the corners and decorated a few of the shelves, making the house feel homey and welcoming.
Speechless, I followed him as he led me toward the rear of the house. The dark oak floors were covered in soft, elegant rugs that cushioned each step, while traditional beams adorned the ceilings overhead, adding to the space’s charm.
As we stepped into the kitchen, I gasped, my voice a barely audible whisper.
“Luca.”
I instantly knew he had meant everything he’d said to the journalist earlier.
The space was dimly lit with a few lamps and hundreds of candles.
They covered almost every surface—the kitchen island, the dining table, and the floor in front of the bi-fold doors, which stretched the entire length of the room.
I had no idea how he had managed to light them all, but it was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.
The table, which stood between the island and the doors out to the garden, was set for two. A massive platter of charcuterie, cheeses, bread, and olives covered almost the entire surface, and a freestanding wine chiller stood aside with a bottle of fizz inside.
Beyond the bi-fold doors, the garden was lit with thousands of sparkling lights, illuminating a lush lawn and pond.
My gaze returned to the room, and I covered my mouth with my palm, unable to accept what I was seeing. Luca turned to me, clasping my arm in his hand and pulling it away from my face. He held my gaze, a small, shy smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Do you like it?” It was the first time since I’d known him that uncertainty clouded his usual confidence.
“I love it.”
His eyes searched my face for a moment, looking for something.
“God, I wanted to wait, but I don’t think I can,” he murmured more to himself than to me. “Please—” He dragged a palm across his face. “I need to. Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” I whispered, but our faces were already only centimeters apart, our lips connecting in a silent admission of what all this meant.
The kiss felt like liberation, acceptance, and love. It felt like exposing yourself to someone, even the parts you didn’t like about yourself, and discovering it was worth fighting for anyway.
The weight on my shoulders vanished as Luca’s hand smoothed around my waist and pulled my body flush to his. My palms landed on his chest, savoring the feel of hard, muscled pecs beneath his suit jacket.
It was different from our other kisses. It wasn’t rushed, despite the desperation from both of us, but slow and sensual.
And it ended too soon.
Luca pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss on my lips, and stepped back. I couldn’t hide my playful smirk as he readjusted himself in his trousers.
He raised an eyebrow in challenge. I wisely didn’t comment on the bulge below his waist.
Spinning back to admire the most romantic room I’d ever seen, disbelief still soaring through my body, I flicked my gaze to Luca. “Did you honestly do this all for me?”
His only reply was a soft smile, and another raised eyebrow. Placing his hand on my back, he maneuvered me toward the dining table.
“How did you manage this, Luca? Please tell me you didn’t leave the candles burning while we were at the press event.”
“I made some calls. Admittedly, finding someone to prepare dinner with two hours’ notice wasn’t the easiest task.
I stopped at a few different stores to buy the candles.
I think the paparazzi might have caught some photos, too, so I’m glad I got you here before you saw any of them online.
And I asked my housekeeper to light them.
I texted him when we were leaving the event. ”
I searched the room to see if I could find the housekeeper, but Luca added, “He’s gone to his house on the other side of the estate now.”
I nodded dazedly, my mind still swirling with awe at what he’d done. At what it meant.
He pulled out my chair, and I sank into the comfortable leather, eyes flying over the array of food before us.
Collecting the fizz from the chiller, he removed the cork with a light pop and filled our glasses. Handing me mine, Luca held my gaze, a small smile pulling at his lips as he raised the glass to me in a silent cheers.
We clinked our glasses together. It transported me back to when he’d first come to my place for dinner and he’d rolled his eyes at the gesture.
“I visited my mom before I was supposed to go to the script reading. I told her everything.”
The glass froze an inch before it reached my lips. I had thought Luca was going to keep it a secret until he secured the role, so he could surprise her.
“What did she say?”
“That I was an idiot,” Luca said, and I almost sprayed my wine across the table. I swallowed it quickly, the bubbles burning as they went down.
“I’m sorry—what?”
“I know. I still can’t believe it either.” He placed his glass down and wiped a hand over his face. “She was disappointed that I was chasing something I didn’t want—just because I thought she wanted it.”
“She doesn’t want you to get the part?”
“She asked if I wanted the part or only wanted it because I thought it would make her happy.”
“And?”
“I wanted the part for her.” Selecting a few meats off the board and placing them on his plate, Luca gestured for me to do the same.
“It wouldn’t have been a bad film to work on; I might have even enjoyed it. But I would never have considered it if it wasn’t for my mother.”
“And she genuinely didn’t care?”
“She gave me this whole speech about wanting me to be happy.”
“You know she’s right, though?”
“I came and found you, didn’t I?” His eyes met mine, their softness and vulnerability drawing me in.
“Me?” I stopped attempting to load food onto my plate, unable to focus on anything but Luca.
“You’re my happiness, Matilda.”
A rush spread through my chest, leaving me breathless and tender. A fragile part of my heart still couldn’t believe him.
“I was naive and unrealistic when I told you we should only be friends. We won’t ever just be friends.
” He reached across the table, taking one of my hands in his.
“Thinking about us has consumed my every waking moment—I thought I was sick with nerves because of the audition, but it was because I knew I’d made a huge mistake that morning at your apartment.
Even if I did have to travel across the world, we’d find a way to make it work.
When we met, I didn’t know you’d be the kind of person who’d make me want to be better—kinder, more trusting, more…
loving. And it scares the hell out of me.
Like, if I screw this up, I’m losing the one person who I want to be better for—the one person who makes me feel alive again. ”
“You want to be more than friends?”
“No, I don’t want to be just more than friends. I want you to be mine, Stevens, if you still want to be.”
Do I want to be Luca’s?
That was the most ridiculous question I’d ever heard.
I wasn’t going to let him go.
“I want that more than anything.” The words flowed effortlessly from my lips, as if they had been waiting for this moment. “I would be stupid not to want a future with you.”
“I’m the stupid one. It took me too long to realize I was making the wrong choice.”
We stared at each other, our declarations hanging heavily in the air, filling it with palpable warmth and tenderness.
I needed to break the silence before I said something silly.
“So…that’s it, then? Just like that, we’re together?”
Luca laughed again. “Yes.”
“But what about our lives?” I took a leisurely bite of my food, and Luca mirrored my actions.
“It’s easy at the moment. We’re together all day, every day.
What about when our lives return to normal?
We’re not exactly living in the same world.
” I gestured to the incredible house we were sitting in and how different it was from mine.
“That doesn’t matter to me,” he offered simply.
“And it doesn’t matter to me either.” I shook my head. “But logically, we have to consider it. You could be flying across the world for different movies and events for months at a time, and I’d just be here. I still need to work. I couldn’t just come with you.”
His brow furrowed. “I called the producers and said I’m not interested anymore. I was only doing it for my mother, and she promised me she just wants me to be happy. I don’t enjoy acting anymore and don’t see that ever changing.”
“Really? Won’t you miss it?”
“I haven’t missed it for the past four years.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet—but us being together sounds like the best start to a new journey to me.”
It sounded perfect.
We continued eating and chatting, and Luca filled me in on the rest of the conversation and how the producers weren’t exactly pleased about his last-minute bailout.
After finishing our starter, Luca removed freshly made pizzas from the fridge and put them into the portable pizza oven on the countertop. He’d requested a ham and pineapple one for me and pepperoni for himself.
Between bites of pizza, we chatted about the future, reminisced over the past few months, and discussed how excited we were for the final. Even though Luca didn’t need to win anymore, we were both so thrilled by how far we had made it and how close I was to collecting the winner’s bonus.
The evening was everything.
Luca lit the fire, and we settled into the deep leather sofa.
I barely noticed the quiet music playing as our conversation continued, and he caressed my calves as they lay across his lap.
In fact, I could barely focus on the conversation while he was touching me—the contact was entirely distracting.
“Did you want to stay over tonight? There’s no pressure if you’d rather head home, though.”
The thought of leaving Luca was so absurd that I almost laughed at his question.
“I’d love to stay.”