Heart Stealer

Chapter 13 Warm and Toasty Love

I found out I was a terrible ice skater by the way. Without Matteo's arms for support, I would have swept the ice on my tummy instead of my feet. After twenty-five minutes of exhausting failed attempts trying to stay upright, I gave up and got off the ice.

"You make it look so easy!" I complained to Matteo. He laughed.

"I've been doing it for years," he said. I pouted.

"You'll have to give me lessons before we hit the ice next time."

"I can't wait for that." Yeah, me neither. It felt nice, imagining all the winters Matteo and I would spend together.

We spent the next hour taking in the sights and snapping dozens of pictures of ourselves all around New York to capture the memories of our first Christmas together. After that, we bought hot chocolate and sat down to catch our breaths.

"I'm glad we finally got to go on a date again, Thea. I missed this. I missed—us," Matteo said, looking happier than I'd seen him in weeks. My gaze softened on him.

"I missed going out with you too," I said, smiling at him. I shivered a little as a frosty breeze rushed past.

"You cold?" He asked, coming closer to me. He pulled me into his coat, burrowing me against his chest.

"Mmm... toasty now," I replied as I snuggled into his warm embrace with a content smile on my face.

"You know, if we get back now, we might be able to catch a few moments to ourselves under the mistletoe..." I didn't even wait for him to continue; I shot out of his coat, pulling him along.

~

When we got back, Matteo's mom was on the phone, speaking with someone in French. I listened, fascinated by her perfect accent.

"Your mom speaks really good French," I told Matteo.

"That's because she is French," Matteo said, looking amused. I blinked in surprise.

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Her last name was Cartier before she married my dad. She comes from Bordeaux. She studied art here in New York. That's how she met my dad and—well, that's it." He stopped abruptly and I saw a shadow pass his face. I knew he was still sad about his parents' divorce. I took his hand.

"Matteo..."

"Sadly, I didn't inherit any language skills from her. My C+ in French proves that," he changed the subject with a laugh, but I saw the pain remain in his eyes. "Hey, you wanna open presents?" He suddenly asked, leading me to the eight-foot-tall Christmas tree.

"Shouldn't we wait till tomorrow? You don't want to break the rules," I said playfully.

"Ah, some rules are meant to be bent a little. Speaking of, there's a board game my mom has that I really wanna play with you. You in?"

"Definitely. So we open presents later?" I asked slyly. He shook his head with a smirk.

"Uh-uh. We're doing that now," he replied determinedly. I giggled.

"Can't hold you back. Just let me get your gift from my bag," I said going to the guest room where Matteo left my bag. I came back and found Matteo sitting cross-legged on the floor, examining the presents his mom had adorned around the tree as eagerly as a kid.

"You look adorable when you open presents," I said, whipping out my phone and taking a picture of him. I secretly swooned at how sweet he looked.

"Come over here and look adorable with me," he said playfully, patting the carpet beside him. I joined him, placing two boxes beside the tree.