We taped our glasses together in a toast. It was only ten o’clock, but the New Year’s Eve celebration on T.V was going strong and the thumpa-thumpa from the club downstairs was vibrating the floor and walls, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
Any other year I would have been downstairs enjoying the party. Danny would have been here with his best girlie, Ronnie. Spending the holiday in my little apartment with Matteo seemed…intimate. Like we were sharing something special other people rarely saw. More likely, I was reading too much into things. Still, it was a nice change of scenery.
“I’d also argue I’m a major–”
“A major pain in the ass,” I cut in.
He huffed. “Do you know how much effort has to be put into being annoying? It’s a skill, you understand.”
“Uh huh. One you’ve majored in, I see.”
He tossed me a little smile and took another sip of his champagne. The way his lips conformed around the edge of the flute did something to me I wasn’t comfortable with. The good thing about being a boss at the Adonis was I could set myown schedule. Any other time, I’d be downstairs, lurking and mingling, but spending a few hours with Matteo was preferable. I enjoyed having him around and sharing dinner with him on frosty winter evenings. Most times we watched a movie and when I was at work, we texted. It surprised me how quickly I’d gotten used to him being here.
“My parent’s version of celebrating the new year was detailing all the ways you were going to be a good soldier for Christ,” he said suddenly. He hadn’t talked about our serious conversation all week, but it seemed to weigh heavily on him. I supposed he had a lot of baggage to sort through and organize. “Debauchery and imbibing was not allowed in the house so this is nice.”
“More?” I inquired as he finished his champagne. I poured another inch into the flute and watched as he sipped at it.
“You're just trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me because you don’t stand a chance otherwise,” he said.
“You should willingly give yourself to me after all the cooking I’ve done for you. Not to mention, my clothes you’ve ruined,” I said, glancing at my t-shirt. Once upon a time it had been white but was now a swirl of blue and yellow. Apparently, no one had ever told him not to mix colors with whites in the washer, but I thought it was sweet he insisted on cleaning my apartment.
He actually blushed and glanced at me. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine, but it’s not my fault,” he countered. He gulped the champagne down, took a deep breath, and turned toward me. “I mean that. I always had everything not of importance done for me and my father considered things like laundry and mopping something for the plebians to do. I mean, he is a staunch believerthat cleanliness is next to godliness, but we were never to do the cleaning ourselves, because it was beneath us. We had a nanny when I was young, and a housekeeper to see to everything like laundry and vacuuming, so I never had any responsibility except to my bible and schoolwork. No one ever told me not to put colors with whites, so it's not my fault.”
“Okay,” I said honestly and dropped it.
“That’s it? Justokay? No snappy comeback?”
“I’m not going to tease you about something that isn’t your fault.”
He frowned at me and turned his attention to the television where a pop-star was singing and dancing on a stage before thousands of people. His brows were permanently furrowed as if he was confused about the whole thing.
After a long minute, he asked, “Have you ever gone to a New Year’s party? Like the one on T.V?”
“Once or twice. Mostly when I was young and out of control. It was fun the first time,” I said honestly.
He dribbled the last few drops of champagne into his mouth and sucked his lip between his teeth. I wondered how sweet his kiss might be. There was no beating around the bush–I was attracted to him. Not just on a physical level, but mentally and spiritually as well. He seemed like he was looking for something, orsomeoneto guide him and I wanted to be that person. But I didn’t do casual hook-ups anymore. He was seriously making me rethink that decision, however.
“Have you ever been drunk? Like, passed out on the pavement drunk?” he asked.
“Countless times. I don’t recommend it, however. You end up pissing in your own kitchen sink because you think it’s the toilet and drinking out of the toilet because you think it’s the sink.”
“Don’t tell me you’re speaking for experience?” When I just blinked at him, he burst out in laughter that ended in a cough. He’d recovered but still suffered from flemming, something that was common with pneumonia. “Oh, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah. Like I said, not fun. So I don’t recommend purposely getting sloshed. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a few beers every now and then. Everything in moderation because it’s more enjoyable that way.”
“Like Christmas morning snow in the city?”
“Exactly,” I said and bumped his flute with mine.
He smiled at me for a long moment, something indescribable twinkling in his eyes. We drank our champagne as we watched the party on the television. I made a bowl of popcorn and the bottle of champagne slowly drained as we enjoyed the evening. I hated that he didn’t have much joy in his life, something I was determined to rectify. I told him a little more about my youthful exploits that always landed me in a pickle, and he seemed interested in it all as if he were living his life through mine.
I gasped when Lainey Wilson took the stage. I took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “You’ve got to dance with me. Help me relive my youth of endless partying and bad decisions.”
He huffed but didn’t fight me. “I can’t picture you liking country music.”
