"But at least I had an excellent interview with Costa."
"Did he tell you he only scored that goal because of my perfect assist?" Matteo teases, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
"Actually, he said you didn’t shut upall morningabout that assist."
"Infatti,” Matteo laughs softly, his chest vibrating against mine.Indeed.“It was a world-class pass."
I roll my eyes and tip my head back to look at him. His skin is slightly flushed, and the faint lines around his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at me.
"You look tired," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Thanks," I deadpan.
"Bella," he corrects, his thumb brushing across my cheek. "The good kind of tired."
"It is," I admit. "I like it. But I wouldn't say no to another lazy pool day like the ones we had in July."
"Ah,si," he says with a fond smile. "Those days were good."
We stand like that for a moment, swaying gently in the middle of the kitchen. The pan on the stove crackles, sending a waft of garlicky goodness into the air.
"Everything okay?" I ask softly, sensing the slight tension in his posture.
He sighs and rests his forehead against mine.
"My agent called today."
My stomach dips.
"Oh?"
"He mentioned that a team in Spain has asked about a possible loan." Matteo's jaw tightens. "It's just talk. My agent says Roma don't want to let me go, but… it’s still there. Hanging over me."
"Do you want to go?" I ask carefully.
"No." His answer is immediate. His hands tighten at my waist. "This is my city. My team. I don’t want to go anywhere. And I hate waiting for decisions to be made about me when I have no control."
I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"That sounds... frustrating."
"Molto."Very.
"Well, let me know if I need to brush up on my Spanish," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
He huffs a soft laugh.
"You’d follow me to Spain?"
I shrug.
"I’ve already followed you around Italy’s stadiums for months. What’s another country?"
His dark eyes soften.
"I’d follow you anywhere, you know."
I smile and step out of his embrace.