Page 44 of Third Crime's A Charm
There was only one thing to do. “I have to talk to Eli.”
Matteo pulled his phone from his trouser pocket and sent a one word text:
Oida.
It was their version of an SOS so his phone rang a few seconds later.
“Danke,” Matteo said, pushing out a relieved breath.
“Gemma. I have a paper to finish. They’re all up my arse about it,” Elio said in an impatient mumble. He probably had a pencil or a slide pressed between his lips or teeth.
“Super. I’m in a jam and I don’t know what to do. I can save myself, get a lot of money, and be a hero, or I can let someone else win and avoid making an enemy.”
Eli spit out whatever he was holding and Matteo heard the sound of wheels rolling, probably a chair. “I assume this is something illegal.”
“Eh, Kloar.”
“Leiwand,” Eli said and hummed thoughtfully. “And I assume it involves this Truman Tennyson and you’re fucking him?’”
“Eh, Kloar.” Matteo grimaced down at his feet. “It’s…complicated.”
“No, it is not. My brothers are horny idiots with soft hearts.”
“What should I do?”
Elio’s annoyed groan made Matteo smile. He missed the hell out of his little brother and ached to be near him. “When have you ever given a damn about yourself or money or being a hero? You know what you want, you’re just afraid to admit it or deal with the consequences. What are the consequences, Teo?”
“Eeee…” Matteo spun back to the hotel. “Poldi and Theo will not be happy. Max is already worried. They’re right to be worried. He’s terrible.”
“I suspect you like that about him.”
“Maybe.”
That wasn’t why Matteo was spinning in the shadows. Literally. He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Truman’s voice panting in his ear and felt the crisp huff of his breath. The memory made Matteo shiver and his body tightened with anticipation and need. He craved Truman’s lips and his touch and the way he worshiped and claimed every inch of Matteo’s body, even his feet. Matteo also craved the unflinching asshole who had reduced Lonsdale to a sniveling wimp at his own party. “Fine. I do,” Matteo conceded.
“Is he good to you?” Elio asked but Matteo hesitated because he honestly didn’t know.“Is he good to you, Teo?”
“For the most part…”
“Wie bitte?” Elio snapped. “I will drop what I am doing right now and I will be on the next flight to New York. I won’t leave a trace of that fucking man, I promise you!” he whispered and Matteo shushed him loudly.
“That was obviously a joke! You would never say such a thing when it could be overheard unless you were talking out of your arse, ja? But he does treat me very well with the exception of the time I broke into his safe and tried to steal something from him. It was a misunderstanding,” he said quickly, even though Matteo would never, ever forgive Truman for it.
No one was safe if Elio knew how deeply Matteo had been hurt, though. And there was still a chance that Truman could double cross Matteo once he had the star.
“Are you saying you deserved it?” Elio asked accusatively.
“That time…possibly. Aside from his security roughing me up over the safe, he’s been an absolute gentleman. Too much of a gentleman.”
“You’re right. This sounds complicated and messy. You should go with it.”
“I should go with it?” Matteo confirmed, earning another snort from Elio.
“You won’t enjoy being a hero and you like it when Poldi’s pulling his hair out.”
“Very true… I think he likes it too, secretly. His life is so boring these days. He’d be miserable without Jonathon.”
“Voi. Are we good?”
