Page 26 of Heartless Boss
Matteo does a double take when he sees me, and his green eyes bounce between me and Gunner.
“Rainbow?” Matteo says before removing the toothpick from the corner of his mouth. I don’t respond. I never respond to people I’m scared of, and he scares the heebie-jeebies out of me.
“I see you’re still as quiet as you were in college, yeah?” He scrunches his nose.
Izzy jumps up from the floor, waltzes up to him, holds out her hand, and he takes it into his tattooed hand, kissing it. Her face turns fire-truck red. Izzy is boy- and girl-crazy. She’ll gush over any person she thinks is hot. In fact, that’s how we first met. I was sitting at the café on campus. She came up to me, told me that I was hot, and asked me out on a date. Flustered, I told her sure. I didn’t know if I was into girls, but after our first kiss, I figured women weren’t my jam. But we became friends shortly afterward.
“And who are you?” Matteo asks Izzy. Gunner and I stare at both of them as they gawk at each other like two horny teenagers. The sexual charge between them is enough to start a battery.
“I’m Izzy.”
“I’m Matteo, but you,bella,can call me Matt.” He says something in Italian and she giggles. Loud and annoying. Matt is every bit her type. Bad boys and men with accents.
Izzy removes her hand, flattens her purple Daisy Dukes and removes invisible lint from her white tank top like she always does when she’s nervous.
“You two want to fuck like rabbits, get a room, preferably not here,” Gunner says, then heads to his room, and I turn on the balls of my feet to follow him. My heart gallops and I’m horny. He’s going to see the mess I made in his room. What if he kicks me out? No, I’m being irrational. Gunner wouldn’t do that. I rush past him and block the door.
He surveys me from head to toe like I’ve lost my mind, and I have. Where did it go? I don’t know.
“Gia, get the fuck out of the way,” he says, taking a step forward so I feel his body heat radiating off him, and his cinnamon spice caresses my nostrils, making me melt like butter. It’s because I haven’t gotten laid in a while and the alcohol in my system is wrecking my body.
“No.” My voice pleads guilty as I shake my head.
“Have you been drinking?” He arches his eyebrow, and I want him to kiss me everywhere on my body.
“Yeah.”
Plastering a fake smile over his mouth, he picks me up and sets me to the side. When he opens the door, his eyes drink in the mess I made.
His bed is unmade. My dirty, funky clothes are on the floor next to the bathroom door. My perfume bottle I left on his black metal dresser. It looks like a tornado came through here. His room is identical to mine except his closet is bigger and his bed is made out of maple wood.
“I’ll clean the mess up,” I say as embarrassment dances on my face.
“Why are you sleeping in my room?”
“Izzy needed a place to crash. I didn’t want to sleep on the couch, and I was going to clean up my mess before Monday, but you showed up sooner. Sorry.” I follow him in and stand next to the dresser.
He goes to the drawer, grabbing a pair of gray boxers, cotton T-shirt, and black basketball shorts.
“Why are you here on a Saturday?” I ask as I lean my right hip against his black dresser.
“I went to Matt’s club and didn’t want to drive all the way home.”
He turns around, and his gaze clings to my bubblegum-pink knee-high socks. I’m in my white tank top and purple flannel pajama shorts. I wrap my arms around my body, covering it like a shield.
“So you’re not mad?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“So you’re not going to kick me out?”
“Why would I do that?” He gives me an are-you-serious look.
I shrug, and he continues to stare at me, his mouth twitching.
“Did you sleep naked in my bed?” he asks out of the blue.
“Well ... No. In my bra and panties. Why?”
