Page 234 of My Italian Love Affair

As he passes me, he gives me a small nod of acknowledgment, and I sit there for a moment, stunned.

Was that…approval?

A journalist from another outlet leans over.

"Nice question," he says. "Ricci usually shuts down anything tactical. Must've liked you."

I mumble a quickthanks, heat creeping up my neck.

Okay. Maybe Idobelong here.

*

By the time I arrive at the stadium later that afternoon, the sun is high and relentless, turning the concrete concourse into a furnace.

I tug at the neckline of my black tee, the thin straps digging slightly into my shoulders. The fitted material is tucked into my beige high-waisted trousers that flare at the bottom, paired with dark pumps that are already pinching my toes.

I swipe a hand across my forehead and adjust my presslanyard, hoping that my setting spray has worked its magic and that I don’t look like a melted candle as a result of the heat.

The crowd noise is already building as I make my way towards the press entrance.

The atmosphere is electric - fans waving flags, drums echoing through the air, the distant crack of flares being set off beyond the barriers.

I weave through the stadium corridors toward the press box. The unfamiliar layout forces me to pause every few turns, squinting at the signs that point toward the media area.

Just as I pass a dimly lit side corridor, a hand clamps around my wrist and yanks me backward.

"What the -" I yelp, heart leaping into my throat as I'm pulled into the shadows.

The cool concrete presses against my back as a familiar body pins me in place.

"Cazzo, bella," Matteo says with a low laugh. "You're jumpy."

"Bloodyhell, Matteo!" I swat his chest with my free hand, pulse racing. "Can you blame me?! You can't justgrabme like that!"

He grins unapologetically as his eyes flicker over me.

"Merda. You look good."

I roll my eyes.

"You're supposed to be preparing for the biggest game of the season, not lurking around dark corridors like a creep."

"I was waiting for you," he says as he steps impossibly closer, bracing his hands against the wall on either side of my head. "Didn't want to risk missing you."

I drink him in for a moment - my eyes dancing over his handsome face - and my expression softens.

"I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever," I say, my voice quieter than I intended it to be.

It’s only been a few days, but honestly, it feels like a lifetime.

"I know,” he says as his thumb grazes my jaw. "Training has been brutal. The coaches locked us down - they didn’t want any distractions."

I arch a brow. "I'm adistractionnow?"

"Absolutely," Matteo says without hesitation, his eyes darkening slightly. "All I can think about is you."

His warm hands drop to my waist as he holds me completely still.

---