Page 72 of Good as Gold
This makes me laugh, because I was there. And yup. Ten out of ten, the man did try. I pull myself back from the brink, grabbing a cocktail napkin to dab at my eyes. “It’s not you, goofball.”
He gives me a hot smile. Or just a smile, I suppose, except that all of his are hot. “I’m still sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I insist. “It’s totally normal, too. That’s the dumb thing. You’re supposed to try for a wholeyearbefore you even start to worry. But I just had this stupid idea…” Lord, this is embarrassing. “It’s dumb. But I thought maybe after the year I just had, that the universe would toss me a softball.”
He squeezes my shoulder, and it feels so good. “I get it. I really do. Does this mean you’ll want to try again?” He winks.
My face heats, of course. Even though I’m sad, and I have cramps, I still get a flutter just thinking about it. “Well, yeah. If you’re up for it.”
He raises a single dark eyebrow. His brothers have been calling him Designer Jesus, but I think he looks more like Heath Ledger at his hottest.
And when I realize what I said, my face goes from hot to sizzling.Up for it. Oof. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” He flashes me an evil grin. “But it still won’t be a problem. So… Two weeks from now?” He pulls out his phone.
“Approximately.”
“Leaving myself a reminder.” He taps something into his calendar.
“Jeez. What are you putting in there? I’m still keeping this quiet.”
He shows me his phone. It says: SHOOTING RANGE.
I laugh.
He smiles. Then he elbows me in a friendly way. “Buy you another drink? Want to split a pizza?”
“Yes!” I feel a hundred percent better, and he’s only been sitting here ten minutes. “Can I pick the toppings?”
“Yes, queen. Always.”
* * *
I order us the pie with sausage and olives. It’s delicious. Midway through the first piece, Matteo turns to me again. “I’m only here for the summer. So let’s hang out, yeah? While we still have the chance.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “I apologize.”
“It’ll be just like old times,” he says.
Except he’s wrong. In those old times, I didn’t know how his kisses taste. I didn’t know how smooth his skin is. And I didn’t know the deep growl he makes when he comes.
So, yup, my mind keeps wandering to inappropriate places while we talk.
I knew this would happen. That’s why I haven’t called him to hang out. And I’ve rarely come into the bar, just in case he was working.
I honestly thought I’d get pregnant on the first try. My mother got pregnant effortlessly. That’s the word she used. “All three times, too!”
Foolishly, I’d assumed it would work the same way for me. I’d still be in lust with Matteo, but the job would already be done. I could focus on getting over those feelings. Now, as soon as I stop feeling crampy and awful, I’m probably going to fantasize about round two.
We end up outside on the deck together, leaning against the railing, watching the river roll by in the moonlight. It would be more romantic than my sad little heart can handle, except we’re also arguing about which Phish song is the best one.
I’m team “Reba,” and I will die on this hill. He’s spinning some bullshit story about “Fluffhead” having the best composition in modern music.
But then his phone rings, and the ringtone… “Is that aTaylor Swift song?” I hoot. “Whoareyou?”
“Sorry,” he says. “I have to take this.” He swipes to answer the call. “Hey, girl. Everything okay?” And whatever the woman on the other end says, it makes him smile.
My stomach dives right off a cliff. I don’t know why I’m so surprised that there’s a woman calling Matteo. Or that he looks so happy about it.
