Page 28 of Meet You Half Way
“Hide me, Mateo,” Dante returned, eyes pleading. “Save me from that woman and her ministrations. I’m going insane.”
I laughed then, understanding all too well how Giulia got at moments like these. She might have been small but she was a force to be reckoned with.
“I’ll let you hide out here until we both agree it’s bad for your health. And then maybe we can think up a better arrangement for sharing the work that you could do at home.”
“Giulia won’t let me on the laptop,” he grumped. “I have to hide out in the bathroom to even check my emails.”
“Surely your heart doctor will give you a little leeway for that,” I suggested. “Maybe you can ask.”
“Okay. I’ll try,” he agreed. I smiled as I made my way to my desk, feeling a little lighter at seeing Dante back on his feet, even if it was in direct contravention of the doctor’s orders. Hewas looking a lot better too, his colour back to normal and his breathing improved. It felt like old times with him back at his big architect’s desk and me in my little nook.
“Coffee?” I asked as I moved into the kitchen.
“Please,” Dante smiled. Yep, just like old times. I made our coffees using the super fancy machine Dante had bought for the office and then handed him his cup on my way back to my desk. “So. Are you going to tell me who you were meeting last Thursday when I checked in at the office?”
See? Just like old times. The nosey old bugger. I squirmed in my seat. “I just had a coffee with a friend is all,” I said as nonchalantly as possible. “I made up the time after hours.”
“I’m not worried about the time as you well know,” Dante returned. “At this rate I’m going to owe you several weeks of holidays after I’m back on board. So, who did you meet?”
“You’re as bad as Rob,” I muttered under my breath.
“You’re not going to tell your old friend who you met for coffee,nipote?” he pressed, going for the familial guilt angle. I was a good Italian boy so the guilt was always going to work on me just fine as Dante well knew.
“Fine. I was meeting with Jamie. The paramedic,” I returned, praying my face was not turning red.
“The handsome one?” he asked, that glint in his eye that told me he knew more than he was letting on. As I’d always feared.
I just shrugged, knowing how much that would annoy him.
“So, you’re friends with him now, are you?” Dante pressed.
“It was kind of a bonding moment, you know, sharing in the trauma of saving your life after your cardiac arrest,” I said, knowing how to use guilt when I needed it too.
“Well. I think it’s nice you’ve kept in touch. He was such a lovely man. So cool and calm under pressure. Not to mention so handsome.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Giulia thinks he’s just wonderful. She’ll be so pleased to know you’re still in touch with him. Do you think he’d come around for a meal at our house? You, me, Giulia and Jamie? Your aunt would be so thrilled.”
“I think that might be stretching things a little far,” I returned, alarmed at where I knew this was heading. “We’re not that friendly.”
“Oh? What kind of friends are you then?”
“Just the kind who occasionally meet for a coffee,” I huffed, hoping to put an end to this awkward conversation. It was just coffee. And hours and hours of incredible, hot sex.
“Oh, well. Let me know if that changes,” Dante said, eyes on his work, just a casual line from a friend. “We’d both love a chance to properly thank him for saving my life.”
I just sighed, the sound heavy in the office space but it was not with a heavy heart. It was with a much lighter heart, the thought that maybe, just maybe, Dante knew what he was talking about. And that maybe he would be okay if he knew the truth about me. That maybe I would have someone who would stick by me if ever the news about me broke. If ever I dared to bring someone like Jamie home to a family dinner with me.
CHAPTER 12
jamie
Another week had flown by without a word from Mateo. I had no idea why I kept suddenly expecting him to reach out to me. Like, maybe he’d have a literal overnight personality transplant.
It was over a week since I’d last seen him, since I’d last had him spread out underneath me in my bed. It was not the last time I’d thought of him though. Oh no, those images of him were keeping me well and truly occupied at night, usually with my hand wrapped around my frequently hard dick.
But I was also tired of chasing and was it wrong that I had hoped that he would maybe, just maybe, be the one to reach out to me? I guess a guy could dream.
