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Chapter Eighteen

I stare at Matteo's sleeping face, calm and pale. His eyes are swollen, making me think he probably hasn't been sleeping for long. The sun rises as I stand up, making sure to be as quiet as I can. I catch sight of my bag in the kitchen and go to it, amazed when I pull out my phone that I still have charge.

I open the door that leads to the porch, inhaling at how cold it is. Jesus.

I dial my sister's number and hold it to my ear, hearing the shrill rings.

"About damn time I heard from you. I'm back."

"I'm upstate."

"Upstate? Why? Where?"

"Matteo and I are staying in a cabin for a few days."

"You're already going on vacations together?" she exclaims. "Wait, have you slept together?"

I smile to myself, chuckling. I hear her gasp.

"You slut!"

"Hey, hey."

"Is he good?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Hey, don't forget it was I who gave you the message from my voicemail."

I clear my throat, my voice still hoarse from sleep. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about... I don't know if they're going to hire a replacement for my job, will you call me if they do? I might need to start looking for another job."

"Yeah, of course I will... do you really think they'd replace you?"

"Well considering that I've in that position for precisely two minutes, I'm thinking it's a good chance."

"They'd be fucking stupid."

I sigh, shaking my head. "What's up with you?"

"I haven't slept yet. I'm just getting home now," she says, sounding guilty in the best possible way.

"Now who's the slut!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes.

"You need to hear about this guy. When are you getting back?"

"Tomorrow." Unless he wants to leave now.

"Alright, I'll talk to you then."

"Bye," I whisper, hanging up. I hurry back into the warm cabin, immediately bee-lining for the kitchen. My stomach would echo across these mountain ranges if I went outside.

I open the fridge, scanning the contents. I grab eggs, green and red bell peppers, a heap of bacon before shutting the fridge with my hip.

* * * *

I'm flipping an omelet over when I finally feel his presence. I turn, in sweats and a sweatshirt, finding him at the edge of the island, smiling softly. I bite my lip awkwardly, tilting my head. The air is full of questions- I start with an easy one.

"Do you like omelets?"

"I do," he says, coming around. He's also in sweats, although they look wonderful on him... they hang just right. I blush, turning back to the stove. "Why are you blushing?"

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

I roll my eyes, gasping when his hands come around my waist. I tilt my head, smiling wide as he presses his lips to my throat gently. I turn towards him, spatula in hand and lean forward, my lips searching. They find their destination.