“Fine. Z ara , I already know you will also want to talk , so I give you permission. But that was mean. I do not take ages in the shower. Only hours. That's a massive contrast,” s he sa ys as she walks out of the car.
“Thank God we have our own shower,” Matt mutters.
“Yeah, if we shared with these bastards, we’d never bathe,” Luca laughs.
I give him a look that saysyou’re so dead.
“It’s not like youbatheanyway. You always smell like the bio bin,” I shoot back. “And who are you calling bastards? We areladies, you idiot.”
“Do we need to rewatchLady and the Tramp? Last I checked, ladies don’tstartfights — they finish them. And you definitely start them,” Luca says, smirking.
“Rossi, you know I prefer your mouthshut.But you never seem to keep it that way — always talking. I don’t need manner advice from someone as far from a gentleman as east to west.”
Matt laughs.
“If you ever need advice, come to me. I’ll gladly slap some sense into you if you don’t hold the door open for thisbastard.’” I get out of the car and walk toward our apartment.
“Hey, your bag!” he calls after me.
I turn, grinning. “You’ll manage, Dreamer Boy.”
Matt is still laughing.
Chapter 2
Luca
“Food!” I call out. Today is my turn to cook, and I decided to make the one dish I love most: risotto.
I’ll never forget the special moments I shared with my parents when they taught me family recipes. For most of my life, Friday evenings were spent in the kitchen with my younger brother and sister — laughing, sharing stories, and cooking.
Risotto was always my favorite, because every time we made it, the day felt even more special than any other Friday.
“You outdid yourself this time, Rossi. Dude, this smells amazing.” Matt takes an exaggerated breath as he sits down.
“Ever heard the phrase don’t judge it till you try it ?” Tilly says, flashing me a smile.
“Come on, T. We both know my risotto tastes better than any of your ready-made meals.”
“Pff, yeah right.” She rolls her eyes. I push the plate toward her.
“Come on, try it.”
I slide everyone their plates, and we dig in.
“Ok, I have to give it to you, Luca. This is really good. I’m sorry, babe, but if you think otherwise, you’re lying to yourself,” Yana murmurs, mouth full of rice.
“Thanks.”
I wink at her. “What do you think, T? Good?”
“I guess.”
“Ha, I knew you’d like it.” I point a finger at her.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like it’s your recipe!”
“I’m the one who made it through, didn’t I?” When she doesn’t respond, I add, “Did I really just make Matilda Harper speechless?”
