CHAPTER 9

mateo

I stepped into Cat's Cradle at seven minutes past ten. I didn't want to look too eager and I also wanted to make sure I didn't know anyone before I went inside. To where Jamie was waiting for me. Jamie, who had texted me last night right when I'd been in the middle of one of my downward spirals over Nick.

Might have explained why I'd been so quick to agree to meet up with him today. Though the saints only knew why.

But there he was, squeezed into a private booth instead of one of the tables in the middle of the cafe and I sighed in relief at that. Jamie looked good, his brown hair swept to the side in that casually effortless way he seemed to always manage, that square cut jaw and that bloody adorable dimple catching my eye. His blue eyes sparkled when they looked up and saw me approaching.

"Mateo," he greeted with a warm smile. I could see the indecision in his eyes as he half stood as though he was going to kiss me or something but seemed to think better of it and sat down again. I squashed the momentary panic and sank into the cosy booth across from him. I was facing the back wall, away from the street, and I wasn't sure if that was a better position to be in or not.

"I wasn't sure of your coffee preference so I haven't ordered yet," Jamie continued. My eyes skimmed across the light grey polo top he was wearing, the kind that hugged his pecs and highlighted his broad shoulders and biceps in a way that made my mouth dry out a little. The man sure had a great body.

"Just a short black, thanks," I replied. He'd invited me out for this coffee so I had no issues with him paying this time.

"Glad you're not feeling too obtuse this morning," he grinned before he rose to his feet and went to the counter to order. And damn, he was wearing light blue jeans and they were as snug as his t-shirt, highlighting the contours of his powerful glutes. Why had I agreed to come out again? Oh, that's right. Because my life sucked.

Jamie returned to the booth, his smile fading as he looked at me, like, really looked at me.

"What?" I asked, squirming in my seat.

He shook his head, smiling to himself as he said, "Nothing. I just always seem to forget how perfect you are. Like my brain always finds ways to diminish you in between visits."

"Nobody's perfect," I returned. "Least of all me."

"I know, Mateo," he replied. "That's not what I meant."

"I know," I sighed before I faltered. "Just … don't make the mistake of thinking the outward appearance is a reflection of how I am on the inside."

"I didn't mean anything by it," he reiterated, expression serious for the moment. "I just like looking at you."

"And I assure you I like being looked at," I returned. I held his eye for the moment, waiting until his lips tilted up into a half grin before I looked away. "Why did you text me last night?"

Jamie sighed, leaning back against the booth and spreading his arm across the back. The movement drew my attention to his strong arms and I cursed under my breath as I looked away again.

"I don't even know," he admitted. "I'd just had a really shit day and you were who I thought of."

"Really?" I asked, weirdly pleased by that thought. "Why was it a shit day?"

"Ah, just ambo stuff," he said dismissively. I levelled him a look before he sighed and continued. "We lost a patient in the back of the ambulance yesterday. I was the attending paramedic. We did everything we could but we couldn't save the guy. His wife was in the back of the ambulance with us and, well, it was not a fun day."

"Geez, Jamie. That's rough."

"Yeah."

The mood lowered and I wasn't quite sure what to say. I hadn't expected Jamie to tell me about his day. And definitely not with that harsh dose of reality thrown in. I'd only really viewed his job through the lens of the heroic saviour but of course real life never guaranteed a happy ending. People died and Jamie was on the frontlines of that. He was literally dealing in life or death, not just missed council deadlines or mistakes in blueprints. I knew Aunt Giulia thought Jamie was a hero but would she have still thought that if Dante hadn't made it?

"So, you thought a hookup would be the answer to a bad day?" I teased, opting for humour. It worked. Jamie smiled and the whole mood shifted, his face lifting and brightening the room.

"Well, not just any old hookup," he smirked. "A hookup with you ."

"Mmm, yes, I can see why you thought that would be a good idea," I grinned. Was I actually playing along with this? I hardly ever bothered flirting back unless it was the prelude to a hookup but we'd already done that. Twice. So what was this?

"Anyway, enough about me. Tell me how your day was?"

" My day?" I mulled. Not sure anyone had ever asked me that before. "It was okay, I guess. I mean, it's been tough without Dante at the office. And I did mess up a client's plans and had to resubmit them to council which will delay their build by a couple of weeks and they weren't too happy about that. Truth is, I don't really know what I'm doing without Dante."

"It sounds like you're doing an amazing job keeping the firm afloat until Dante is back on his feet," he said. I paused, not sure why his words of encouragement meant so much to me right then.

"That's one way of looking at it."

"It's the only way of looking at it," he pressed. "Was Dante disappointed in any of your work?"

"Well, no," I shifted in my seat. "If anything, he's been overly supportive even when I've messed up."

"As he should be," Jamie returned in a way which brooked no arguments. "Do you like working in architecture?"

I laughed, the sound edged with bitterness. "No. I wanted to throw my life into modelling but my parents didn't think it was a legitimate career path. Especially for a man. Dante's a family friend and he needed an assistant. He's been training me up since I left high school."

"Since high school, huh? You know I never actually asked how old you are before."

"I'm twenty-two."

"Ah. Younger than I thought," Jamie mulled.

"Why? It's not like you're ancient. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-seven."

"So what? Five years is nothing."

Our coffees arrived at the table and I took the moment to steady myself. I often found myself being drawn into Jamie, almost like being lulled into a net. I wasn't in the mood for being trapped there but I wasn't entirely sure how to keep myself free of him. I took a sip of my coffee, relishing the bitter taste.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jamie asked. I shrugged a shoulder and he continued. "Why did you agree to meet up with me today?"

"Honestly, probably for the same reason as you," I admitted, deciding on truth. "I don't have a solid reason either but I guess I was having a shit day too."

"Why?" he asked, leaning forward on his elbows as though he actually cared.

I just shrugged again and looked away. "No reason specifically. Same reason as always."

"Hmm," he mulled, leaning back in his seat and looking at me contemplatively. I felt a little unsettled under his gaze, the way he watched me, like he could see underneath the fa?ade I had perfected.

"Before you say anything, no I don't want to talk about it," I added.

"That's okay. You don't owe me anything."

Well. That was refreshing and something I really appreciated about Jamie. He always came across like that, a kind ear and a warm pair of arms but he wasn't pushy and I liked that about him.

And maybe it was because of that, or maybe it was because I just really liked looking at his biceps, but we sat there in that booth on an unusual Thursday morning, neither of us completely sure why we had agreed to meet for this coffee but which was actually turning out to be really quite nice. It was nice because I didn't feel like Jamie expected anything of me, just some kind of human interaction without any expectation of where this might lead. Because let's face it, we both knew I had purposely opted for a morning meet up in order to minimise the risk of this being anything more than two guys simply sharing a coffee.

But the longer I sat there across from this really nice guy with those amazing biceps and his pretty blue eyes and that fucking dimple , I started to wonder if I'd made an error of judgement. There was just something about Jamie and I couldn't for the life of me put my finger on it.

It was only when I glanced down at my phone that I realised an entire hour had flown by and I actually felt some kind of … regret .

"I'm going to have to get back to work," I eventually said, noting the way Jamie's face fell at that news too.

"Yeah. I've kept you long enough," he agreed.

"Do you have work today?"

"No. Mandatory day off after, well, after what happened yesterday," he told me.

"That's fair."

"Maybe. Sometimes I think it would be better if I just went in to the base like a normal day. Give me less time to stew."

Jamie stood and I followed his lead, tensing when I felt him move to touch my lower back. He must have thought better of it though because the touch never came and I walked out of the café feeling slightly bad that he had seen me flinch.

"This is me," Jamie said and I saw his black Peugeot only a few steps away from the front of the café.

"Rockstar park," I replied. "I'm around the corner."

"Ah. Well, it was really nice to see you again, Mateo," Jamie said. "Thanks for agreeing to meet me."

"You too. And, um, thanks for the coffee," I managed to get out. I wasn't sure what else to say. I also wasn't sure how to make myself leave as I hovered beside him, not quite ready to remove myself from his warm sunshine or those sparkling blue eyes. He made me feel good about myself and I didn't understand why.

"Any time, Mateo."

"Well. I should probably go then," I mumbled just as my eyes dipped, suddenly waylaid by those distracting pink lips on Jamie's face. The ones I had tasted a few times now, and, well, I could certainly highly recommend them. I probably wouldn't even mind another taste if I was being perfectly honest which might explain why my feet were suddenly glued to the pavement.

I drew in a sharp breath as Jamie leaned in closer to me, not quite touching but close enough that anyone walking by would know it was not the gesture of a friend . I found myself not quite able to give a fuck as those intoxicating waves that were purely him washed over me.

"Why do you smell so good?" Jamie asked, nose skating just below my ear but not quite touching. That not-quite-touch seemed somehow even worse, my body instantly on edge, every single one of my nerve endings springing to life.

"Tom Ford," I stammered.

"Tom Ford?" he asked, a smile edging up his handsome face and making his blue eyes spark.

"Yeah. I, ah, did a campaign with them last year and I got a whole heap of samples. So, Tom Ford."

"That explains some of it. I think it's not just Tom Ford though. It's also you."

Ah, merda . How did I answer that when I was thinking the exact same thing about his scent. How intoxicating he was. How alluring he was. How everything he did made me forget who I was and drew me straight in.

"Do you get that a lot? Samples from shoots?" he asked, breath warm on my neck as I shivered.

"One of the perks," I muttered.

"Hmm." He still had not touched me but I wasn't sure I had ever been more primed for someone in my entire life, everything waiting and wanting his touch, wanting that mouth on my neck, his hands on my body.

I broke first. "I, um, don't have to be back at the office until two," I laid out casually.

"No?"

"No."

"In that case, get in my damn car, Mateo."

Jamie had blue sheets. Baby blue and buttery soft with a terrifically high thread count. I couldn't say the exact number but I did get intimately acquainted with them later that morning after Jamie flipped me onto my stomach and thrust into me from behind, his movements so forceful my head hit the headboard.

Everything inside me ached and the sheets would need to be washed now but I was finding it hard to care about that as I lounged on the buttery soft pillows, Jamie's fingers painting leisurely circles on my sticky stomach.

"Why do we always end up here?" I murmured.

"I don't have the faintest clue," Jamie concurred.

"No?"

"Really. I am not a hookup guy," he continued, those fingers feeling oh-so nice on my skin. "I'm a woo-them-into-bed kind of guy. A get-to-know-them first before sex kind of guy. A flowers and wine kind of guy."

"Really?" I asked, twisting on my side and propping myself up on my elbow. He really was nice to look at when he was like this in a post-sex daze, all warm and soft and relaxed. I liked his apartment too, well, what I had seen of it as we had left a trail of clothes between the front door and his bedroom. His apartment was a new build, all white washed walls and art-deco inspired curves where it sat on the main street of Sorrento, snug between cafes and restaurants and just a few streets back from the beach.

"You're not into romance?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I never had a boyfriend before Nick. And he and I were friends first so the romance didn't really make an appearance between us. We just kept doing friend things. Usually with Rob in the middle."

"Nick was your first?"

"Um first boyfriend," I clarified. "Definitely not my first guy."

"So what, just casual hookups before him then?"

I cleared my throat. "I don't even know if I'd call them casual hookups," I admitted. "I lost my virginity at the age of seventeen crushed up against rough bricks at the back of a gay club. That about sums up my sex life before Nick."

"Really?" he asked. I didn't fail to note the cloud that passed over his eyes at that news but I didn't know why. I was sure I wasn't the first guy who had lost their virginity that way and I was sure I wouldn't be the last. "Was it at least good for you?"

"Not particularly," I shrugged. "The guy was much older and probably way too big for my first time but I had no way of knowing that at the time. He also didn't prep me or anything but so what? I was desperate to know what it was like and that was what I got."

"Mateo," he sighed.

"Don't pity me. I don't feel sorry for me so you shouldn't either."

"Okay. I won't feel sorry for you."

"Then get that pity out of your eyes," I said, leaning over to kiss his mouth. I didn't like the way he was looking at me right then and I knew a kiss would be the best distraction for him. It worked to perfection and within no time at all I was lying on top of him, grinding against him as his tongue plundered my mouth and his hands gripped my ass, hoping we could rally fast enough to squeeze in another round before the call of the office could no longer be avoided.