Page 45 of The Cupid Chronicles

Apparently, that’s that.

I’m getting used to this view. The outside of Matteo’s door.

Maybe if I knock long enough, he’ll let me in.

Chapter Thirteen

Matteo

“Who wasthat?”

Nicola is on me the second I walk in the kitchen. She’s standing near the door, making no attempt to pretend she wasn’t spying.

“Nobody,” I say, because there is no story there, no matter how much Nic wants there to be.

“Didn’tlooklike nobody,” she says. “You stood there and watched her walk away.”

Yeah, to make sure she actually left, I think but don’t say.

I groan and trade my winter coat for my chef’s coat, then move over to the sink to wash my hands. “She lives in my building. She was just—” I stop talking and look at her. “It’s fine. No big deal. She’s nobody.”

Only, as I say it, something inside feels wrong.

She’s really not nobody.

Though I’m not sure if I want her to be a somebody.

I can feel Nicola’s eyes on me for a long moment while I try to pretend not to notice. When I finally glance at her, I watch her face switch from suspicion to a familiar pitying expression. “It’s okay if you’re interested in somebody, Tay.”

“I’m not.”

“Aria wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life.” She pauses, then laughs. “Actually, she probably would. That girl had a serious jealous streak.”

I half-smile at the thought. Because it’s true. Movies and books always make it seem like the person who’s gone wouldwantthe love of their life to move on, but with Aria, I’m not so sure.

She once got mad at me because I cheated on her with a celebrity.

In a dream she had.

Of course I would never, celebrity or otherwise, but she still confronted me about it, asking me if I knew Zendaya personally.

I stifle a smile at the memory.

“I have to believe if she saw you like this, she’d want you to get back out there,” Nicola says.

“Saw me like what?” I dry my hands and lean against the counter, studying Nicola as if she can telepathically answer my question.

I expect her to backtrack, but instead, she plows forward, almost like she’s been waiting for a chance to tell me exactly what she thinks. “Look. I think of you like family. I remember the guy you were before.”

Nicola is one of the few connections I still have to Aria. They were best friends, and while I do value her opinions, I prefer to hear her thoughts on cannoli. Not my love life.

“The night you and Aria met, she would not shut up about you. This ridiculously hot guy she’d met in her food safety class.” She laughs softly at the recollection, and my insides are at war—part of me wanting her to stop reliving these memories and another part of me wanting to hear every single thing she remembers about Aria.

“But once she got to know you, it wasn’t your beautiful face or your God-given talent in the kitchen she talked about, Tay.” She waits for me to look at her, something I’m determined not to do but end up doing anyway. “It was how kind you were. How fun and happy. How much you loved people. How you cooked these amazing meals and presented them like a kid, super excited to share something you’d made.”

I look down.

She continues. “Your whole reason for wanting to open this place was to bring people together, to pass down not only the food, but the feelings you haveaboutthe food.” She straightens. “But now, it’s almost like you’re afraid that if you do anything that makes you happy, you’ll betray her somehow.”

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