Page 205 of Matteo

“You could … kiss me,” she suggests, provocatively, as she leans against the lamp post, her lips parted, her eyes glistening under the soft light.

I don’t wait for her to say it twice. I lean in and I kiss her, and it’s soft and gentle. No urgency. No desperation. It’s me being careful, me savoring, not pushing boundaries. She pulls back, eyes on mine, and then she kisses me. It’s softer and deeper, like we’re starting to learn about one another, and savor the touch and feel of each other all over again.

Her forehead rests against my chin. “This doesn’t fix everything,” she says. “I can’t promise anything.” She stares up at me.

“I understand.”

“I’m still angry.”

I nod. “I know.”

She lets out a small, shaky breath. “I don’t trust you the way I did before.”

I cup her face gently, thumb skating over her skin, grateful that I can do this again. “My bad. I fucked up, and I have to pay the price.”

“But …” she pauses, looking up at the sky for a moment, like she's thinking carefully about what she’s going to say. “I want to try.” Her gaze lands on me, and her words are enough to cause an explosion inside my chest.

These words are a lifeline. They're what I've been wanting to hear. They are everything.

“Thank you,” I say, before lowering my mouth to hers, and losing myself in another long and tender kiss.

Epilogue

One month later …

ELIZABETH

Matteo's eyes are closed, and he dozed off as we were talking. He had his surgery this morning, and now he's resting in his private suite at the hospital.

I don't want to leave his side, so I sit here, watching him. Thinking about us, and all that has happened.

We're back together.

It took a week or so, after I left Knight Enterprises, when we walked home together after the bar where I had my leaving do.

It felt strange being back in my apartment, working in my small living room, but I had a few projects suddenly appear.

I updated my LinkedIn profile to reflect my latest contract with Knight Enterprises, and within days, new inquiries started landing in my inbox. Maybe it was the prestige of having Knight Enterprises listed as a former client. Or maybe Matteo had quietly pulled a few strings behind the scenes. I suspected the latter, but I couldn't prove it. Either way, I was busy during that first week after leaving the company. Busy enough that I didn't have much time to sit around missing him.

But then he texted me first thing in the morning, and wished me good luck. Ten minutes later he texted to tell me he missed me. An hour later he said he kept waiting for me to walk into the office.

I found myself looking forward to his texts, and over the course of that week, they turned into something else. Something hot and steamy.

That following weekend we met at Central Park, and had hotdogs then got into a pedicab and made out like crazy.

And later that night, we discovered one another's bodies all over again.

That's how it started.

“Hey,” he croaks. He's dozed off as we were talking, still groggy from anesthesia, so I let him be. He’s pale, and looks exhausted, and he’s been drifting in and out of sleep as I’ve been here. We talk, when he’s awake, but he seems to have less energy, so I don’t push anything.

“You don't have to stay here all day,” he says.

I make a face. “I'll be off then,” I say, picking up my bag. “I'll check in on Arthur and Irene.”

“B-but …”

“I'm joking!” I say, quickly reassuring him, and setting the bag by my side again. “You're not going to get rid of me so easily. Stop saying silly things.”