Man, he’s good.
He can’t affect me, not like that. He’s just supposed to be helping me. This is everything I’ve been needing for inspiration.
I’m saved by our server as she appears with our salads as if I silently summoned her. “Can I get either of you anything else?” she asks, looking back and forth between Matteo and me.
He locks eyes with me, not even sparing her a glance “No, I think we’re good.”
I stare back at him, swallowing hard. “Yeah, we’re good.”
She nods with a smile and disappears from the table once again. Matteo picks up his fork, and barely glances at his plate as he pierces an apple and a piece of lettuce. His perfect lips part as he pushes the food past his straight teeth.
I allow myself the moment to take him in. Perfectly straight nose—surprising for a hockey player. Striking features. Sharp jawline. His eyes are a steely shade of gray in the dim light, but I’ve noticed the way they shimmer with flecks of blue when the candle light hits them just right.
“You’re staring, Jade.”
I shake my head to break my intense focus and bring my attention back to the present. Heat spreads through me. “Should I not?”
“I’d prefer it if you did, actually.” His tone is a little flirtatious with mischief dancing across his lips. “Perhaps it can help you with inspiration.”
I snort, the sound cutting through the tension. “You’re insufferable,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“I know,” he shrugs, his laughter mixing with mine. “I think you might like it, though.”
“Please,” I scoff, shaking my head at him. As if that’s something I’d ever actually admit out loud. “You wish.”
Matteo smiles as if he’s harboring his own secret and spears another forkful of salad. I let out another laugh, mimicking his actions as I distract myself with my own food knowing damn well, he might be right.
I think I might like it too.
The rest of dinner goes without a hitch. True to his nature, he remains flirty, but our conversation flows with ease as we dip from one conversation to the next.
Matteo falls in step with me as he walks me up to the front of my apartment building at the end of the night. He’s quiet and pensive, just as he was the entire ride here.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say quietly, turning to him as we stop by the door. “I had a really nice time.”
“Yeah?” Matteo turns to face me. “So did I.” I’m captured by his gaze. “I like spending time with you.”
My breath catches in my throat. The magnetic pull to him tugs on me, inching me closer. “I like spending time with you too.”
I need to stop, but it appears that I have no control over my own body. He takes a step closer and I tilt my head back to look up at him.
His eyes slowly search my face as if he’s desperate for an answer to a question he never asked. His lips open and close, throat bobbing as he swallows hard.
“Sunny…”
He leaves the rest of his thought unsaid. His fingers brush a warm path along the side of my face, pushing the hair away from my temple. His touch drifts, trailing around my ear as he tucks the loose strands.
My tongue darts out, slipping between my lips to wet them. A ragged breath escapes me and my heart pounds erratically against my ribcage.
The muscle in his jaw tightens, his nostrils widening as his gaze flickers to my mouth. His own lips part, his warm breath fanning across my face.
We’re inches apart. His fingers drift along the side of my jaw, curling beneath my chin as he lifts it higher. “You know how you said you have a tendency of overthinking things?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes slowly searching the fire burning in his. “Yeah?”
“So do I.” He rolls his lips between his teeth, wetting them with his tongue before releasing them. “I don’t want to overthink this.”
His face lowers closer to mine, close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my lips. My heart pounds harder, my eyelids fluttering shut. Waiting. Hoping. Anticipating.