Page 136 of My Italian Love Affair

“I’m also right.”

"Perhaps," I admit softly, before adding with a touch of playfulness, "but don’t get too used to me agreeing with you."

He grins, leaning back slightly.

“We’ll see about that.”

And just like that, the walls go back up.

The flirtation’s back, along with the usual teasing and cockiness.

But beneath it all, there’s that little crack where I saw the real Matteo. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can’t help but feel intrigued.

"Alright, well, I’ve got my charger," I say, the weight of the moment lingering. I lift my charger to show him before placing it in my bag. "Guess I’ll leave you to your post-match celebration, Rossi."

“Celebration?” he says with mock indignation, eyes twinkling. “You act like I’ve got a party waiting for me. I’m just here, hanging out, making sure that a pretty young woman like yourself doesn’t get lost in the big, scary stadium.”

“Right,” I say, trying to keep a straight face as I head toward the door. “Well, you’re doing an excellent job of that.”

“Of course I am. I’m a man of many talents.”

I hum knowingly.

“I’m sure you are.”

I feel the press of his body close behind me, and before I can even register it, Matteo leans over my shoulder to push the door to the hallway back open.

His hand brushes against mine as he moves it aside, and his sudden closeness catches me off guard.

I feel a strange flutter in my stomach, though I quickly shake it off - after all, there’s no need to over analyse every little thing he does.

Still, the feeling lingers like an uninvited guest.

“After you,” he says, voice smooth and low, a playful gleam in his eyes.

I try my best to act like his proximity doesn’t affect me, and before I know it, Matteo’s walking slightly ahead of me, his gait casual, like he owns the entire place.

Which, in his defense, I suppose he might.

I follow him down the hallway, and he glances over his shoulder, catching my gaze.

"Well,giornalista -you’ve been here long enough without having a real look around. How about I give you a little tour of the stadium?"

“Oh. I’m not sure I should…”

"Come on," he interrupts. "I’m just offering to show you around."

He leans in closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“You’re welcome,of course.”

I can’t help but laugh at how effortlessly he turns everything into a challenge.

"Fine," I say with a playful roll of my eyes, "but if you try to make me run laps on the pitch, I’ll be out of here so fast that you won’t even see me leave."

Matteo scoffs. “I’m pretty sure I could outrun you even with a ten-second head start, but I’m not here to make you sweat...yet."

He laughs heartily at my responding groan, the sound light and easy, and it’s... surprisingly pleasant.

---