Page 79 of Lucky
I blush hard and then realize by the smirk on his mother’s mouth, she heard it too, which makes me blush harder.
Dinner is unbelievable.
The lasagna is the best I’ve ever had.Gooey and rich and melts in your mouth.The meatballs are dense and full of flavor.The salad is, well, competent—I didn’t screw it up, which I consider a victory.
Rosa keeps the conversation flowing like a well-oiled machine, asking me about my family, my classroom, what book I’m reading, and how I’m coping with all the TikTok frenzy.
“You’re handling it better than I would,” she says frankly.“But then again, I’ve always said social media is just the devil with a better algorithm.”
Lucky snorts into his wineglass.“You posted six photos of your new basil plant last week.”
“That basil is thriving,” Rosa replies primly.
“Tell me how you make it thrive,” I ask.“My green thumb is decidedly yellow.”
Rosa launches into a detailed explanation that involves crushed eggshells, talking to the plant every morning, and something called “companion planting,” which sounds suspiciously like matchmaking for herbs.
Lucky shoots me a grin.“She’s been trying to set that basil up with the oregano for weeks.”
I stifle a laugh, already half in love with this woman and her overachieving kitchen garden.
Rosa leans forward, fork poised in the air, and gives Lucky a look that instantly makes him wary.
“Okay,” she says.“Now I have a question.”
Lucky groans.“Please tell me it’s about the basil.”
“No,” she says sweetly.“It’s about this woman sitting next to you.”
My stomach tightens a little, but I smile as I glance over at Lucky.He looks mildly horrified.
Rosa keeps going, undeterred.“I think your TikTok meet-cute was charming.Just charming.But clearly, it’s more than that.I can see it in the way you look at her—and the way she looks at you.”She gestures with her fork, dangerous enough to rival a sword.“That’s not algorithm chemistry, that’s real.”
Lucky shifts in his chair, dragging a hand down his face.“Ma—”
“I’m Italian, Matteo.I’m allowed to be nosy.It’s in the blood.”
He exhales and shoots me a quick, sheepish glance.“Sorry.She does this.”
I shrug, cheeks warming.“It’s okay.I… don’t mind.”
Rosa smiles like she’s won a small war.“Excellent.So, tell me, my sweet boy, what’s really going on here?It’s real, right?”
My eyes snap to Lucky.I mean… he’s been pretty clear how he feels, but I want to know what he says to his mother.
He sets his wineglass down.“While it might have started as a goofy TikTok thing, me being clever and charming her with adorable videos, it’s become a lot more.”
“How so?”Rosa prods.
“Somewhere in the middle of all that, it stopped being about posts and stitches and likes.”His eyes drift to me and I’m completely lost to him.“It became about her.Winnie.”
My heart lodges in my throat and Rosa lets out a dreamy sigh and mutters something in Italian.Lucky says he doesn’t know the language too well, mostly curse words and such, so he’ll be no help in translating.
But that’s not what’s important.
It’s time for me to step up to the plate and let him know how I feel.Yes, his nosy Italian mom whom I already adore is sitting at the table with us, but suddenly it’s like there’s no one else in the room.“You’ve made all of this feel different.Like maybe it’s okay to let someone really see me.And it turns out I like being seen by you.”
Rosa makes a soft, sentimental sound, and I’m pretty sure she’s dabbing her eye with a napkin.
