Chapter 42 – remi
Forty-Two
remi
Thiago: I missed you today.
Me: Missed me not bringing you breakfast?
Thiago: Missed your face.
Aridiculous amount of warmth floods my chest.
I stare at the message for a few seconds, then lock my phone and shove it into my bag.
Thiago’s flu lingered for nearly five days after I found him half-dead on his couch, and I spent most of them checking on him.
I’d stop by before work, and other times I’d show up afterward with food, medicine, or some other excuse that definitely wasn’t an excuse.
He’s been back at work for the past week and has been spending his evenings training, so our time together has been limited.
Maybe that’s exactly what I needed, though.
A little distance might have given me a chance to clear my head.
Instead, I somehow ended up in worse shape than before.
I catch myself thinking about him first thing in the morning, then spend the rest of the day wondering what he’s doing, whether he’s eaten, and whether he’s remembering to take care of himself now that I’m no longer hovering over him.
The man has infected me with something far worse than the flu, and the most frustrating part is that I don’t mind it entirely.
“Your situational awareness is concerning.” Matteo rests his forearms on my open car window. “I’ve been standing here for a solid twenty seconds, and you haven’t even noticed me.”
“Don’t be annoying. Besides, I’m always lost in my head, but never unaware. Don’t confuse the two.”
The statement is only partially true, but I’m not about to admit it when he already thinks he’s onto something.
Matteo quirks an eyebrow. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Get in, loser. We have shopping to do.”
He chuckles and rolls his eyes before opening the passenger door and climbing inside. “You know, most people say hello before insulting someone.”
“Most people aren’t me.”
“Very true.”
I pull out of the parking lot, and one look at his face tells me he’s holding back.
“Just say it. Say whatever it is you’re about to say.”
“I didn’t even say a word.”
“You don’t have to.” I point a finger at him. “Your face gives you away. Now spit it out.”
“Fine,” he says with a laugh. “So you and the cop, huh?”
“We’re just friends, Matteo.” Pulling into the next lane, I pass a row of slower-moving cars and press the accelerator.
Matteo immediately grabs the handle above the door, and I have to suppress the urge to laugh.
Some things never change.
He's never been a fan of fast cars, street racing, or anything remotely connected to that world. That has always been my thing and Valentina’s. AJ eventually joined us once she was old enough, but Matteo thinks speed limits are useful suggestions that should be followed.
“Friends,” he repeats. “The kind of friends who nurse each other back to health?”
“It wasn’t every day,” I groan. “God, why did I even tell you that?”
“Because you and I are friends.” His voice softens. “More than that. You know you can talk to me, right?”
I let out a long sigh. “You know it isn’t that I wouldn’t tell you.”
“I know.”
I glance over at him.
Damn him and those stupidly pretty eyes. How could I not trust him? Sometimes I think it’s sorcery. The guy spent years following me like an annoying little shadow, and at some point he became one of my favorite people.
The irony isn’t lost on me, and a laugh slips out.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Matteo gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me for a second, so I turn my attention back to the road.
“It’s just hard for me,” I admit. “For a lot of reasons.”
His expression turns serious. “Because of Ryuji?”
“Partly.”
Losing Ryuji fucked me up in ways I don’t think I’ve ever fully admitted.
One day, he was there, and the next, he wasn’t.
I know what it feels like to let someone matter, only to have them ripped away.
Maybe I’ve spent all this time making sure no one else gets close enough to leave that kind of hole.
“And because Thiago’s a cop?”
I drum the steering wheel. “Yeah.”
The answer comes easier than I expect.
“It’s not that I don’t like him. It’s that every time I imagine what this could become, I hit a wall.
He’s a SWAT officer, Matteo. His entire life is built around things I don’t trust and a system I’m not exactly fond of.
” I shake my head. “I just don’t know how someone like him fits into my life or how I’ll fit into his.
I have too many secrets. I illegally race.
Me and everyone I love would be put in a chair for what we’ve done. ”
Matteo doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He simply nods as if he understands exactly what I’m trying to say.
“That scares me,” I admit.
The truth is, none of this scared me before Thiago. If things got complicated, I walked away and never looked back.
Now I find myself wishing things were different. I wish he weren’t a cop and that I didn’t have a lifetime of reasons to fear what letting him in could cost me.
Matteo studies me for a moment. “You know what I think?”
“That’s usually how conversations work.”
He snorts. “I think you’re looking ten years into the future when you haven’t even figured out what’s happening today.”
I frown. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, you’re worrying about whether your lives fit together forever, and you haven’t even let yourself enjoy the fact that you like him.”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it because, annoyingly enough, he might have a point. When the hell did he become this insightful? He’s not even old enough to drink.
“I hate that that makes sense.”
“Of course it does,” he says as he settles smugly into his seat.
“Don’t be obnoxious about it, or I’ll drop you off on the side of the road.”
“No, you won’t.”
I shoot him a sidelong glance, and a much better idea comes to mind. “You’re right,” I say. “I’d never do that.”
Just as his shoulders begin to relax, I take a sharp right into an empty lane, downshift, and slam my foot on the accelerator. The car launches forward, throwing Matteo back into his seat.
His fingers latch onto the handle above the door with a grip that could probably crack bone. “Remi!”
I bark out a laugh. “Relax.”
“Relax? You’re trying to kill us.”
The engine climbs through the gears as we surge past a line of slower-moving traffic.
“The store I’m trying to get to closes in thirty minutes. Measures are being taken.”
“There are always cops on this road. Slow down!”
“Oh, enjoy the ride, Matteo.” I roll down the window and let the wind rush in. It whips through my hair and brushes against my skin.
I know staying away from Furia is the right call for now, but I miss the adrenaline, speed, and freedom that come with pushing a car to its limits. And right now, I’m craving a fix.
“Remi, there’s a red light ahead.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I take a hard left onto the next street, and the tires protest with a sharp screech against the pavement.
“Fuck, Rem.”
I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. “You’re a terrible passenger.”
“I’m a normal passenger.”
“Then act like one.”
Matteo mutters a curse in Italian and tightens his death grip on the handle, which only makes me laugh harder. I have no idea why he keeps getting into vehicles with me, but I suppose that’s what friendship is. You make questionable decisions, and the people who love you stick around anyway.
I’m not a frivolous spender unless the purchase involves cars or the latest imports, so spending this much on a custom costume makes me grind my teeth. The price won’t hurt my bank account, but that isn’t what bothers me.
It’s the principle of it.
I’m standing here, spending an obscene amount of money on a costume for a charity ball I swore I wouldn’t attend, all because of a man I’ve spent weeks trying to convince myself is nothing more than a friend.
The lengths I’m apparently willing to go to for him are equal parts irritating and alarming.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, running my hand down the leather, unable to stop myself from smiling.
Damn him, because if I’m being honest, it isn’t the costume making me smile.
It’s the thought of Thiago’s face when he sees me in it.