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Chapter Four

"And he just walked away?"

I nod, tapping my pen against my desk anxiously. Veronica grabs it from me, setting it down with a thump.

"You look upset about it," she observes, curiously. I roll my eyes.

"I kissed him and he ran away from me. Wouldn't you be upset?"

"He's obviously married, Em or a complete pussy. Either way, he doesn't matter."

"He's not married. He doesn't wear a ring."

"Then it's worse. He's a pussy."

"Oh stop, V."

She gapes, smiling wide, placing her hands on her hips. "Defending him, huh? Must have been some kiss."

I shake my head, frustrated. "I don't know what's wrong with me... He can be so infuriating but the second he shows interest, I can't help myself."

"That's sad."

"I know it is," I bite back. "I wrote an article about this man, a rather mean one, if I'm being honest. And now-"

"You're falling-"

I glare at her. "Don't even finish that sentence. I am not... He's just a good kisser. That's all."

Veronica smirks and grabs her cup off my dining table. "Alright, well, I'll let you daydream in private then. I've gotta get going."

"But I need you right now," I whine playfully, standing up in my sweat pants. I grab my green tea and raise it to my lips as she shrugs into her jacket by the door.

"No, you don't," she says suddenly, placing a small piece of paper onto the glass table by my door. I look down at it, brows curving in when I see a number.

"Um, what is this?" I ask, reaching for it.

"His number."

My eyes become wide as saucers. "Where did you get this?"

"He left it on the voicemail at work, which I now get when I'm off. He explained that he needed to speak with you and if I could find a way to get the message to you, he'd appreciate it."

"When did you receive the voicemail?" I gasp, looking around for my phone.

"About three minutes before I stepped through your door."

"You're evil!" I shout, grabbing my phone. "You just let me freak out!"

"I wanted to see how crazy you are getting about this guy." She opens the front door, smiling softly. "Call him... I'll see you at the airport."

"Bye!" I call out, already dialing the number into my cell. I'm about to press the green button, but stop myself.

Wait... is this a good idea? He kissed you once, Em. Once.

This guy has heartbreaker plastered on his forehead. You'd be a fool to ignore the sign. My heart, beating wildly, wins over my nerves and I press on the call button.

It rings twice. "Matteo Giordano."

His voice is hoarse, making my brain click into drive. It's late. It's like midnight late. I consider hanging up in a moment of panic.

"Hello?"

"It's me." It's me? He probably doesn't fucking know you're-

"I was hoping you'd call," he says, softly. I smile, pleased to know he remembers the sound of my voice.

"I didn't think I was going to hear from you again," I get out, trying to sound detached and not like my entire night has been spent in a ridiculous torment. "Where did you have to go?"