Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MATTEO

" T hank God it's soundproofed back here," I say, leaning over the old acoustic.

Bella's cheeks are flushed and red, the flush spreading down her neck, her hands clasped in her lap as she stares at me with complete captivation. There's more attentiveness in her expression than last night, even. Her dress is a deep red with a glittery pattern, matching the sparkle in her eye. I almost canceled the date when she walked out of the guesthouse. My body stirred so damn urgently, roaring at me to grab her, claim her, own her.

Own her?

"Before I quit, I was working on Romance Anónimo. Do you know it?"

"Anonymous Romance," she whispers, nodding slowly.

I smile. Of course, she knows it.

"I can't believe you didn't mention you played guitar!"

"There's a lot I didn't mention …"

I regret saying this right away, but the glowing expression on her face doesn't falter. She clasps her hands even tighter together, looking at me closely. I have to remind myself she's only doing this for her mom's tuition, or is that just an excuse?

Why bother with this private moment if this was just a trade? Nobody can see us now.

"Well, here I go …"

Slowly, I begin to pluck the piece. It's a challenge involving a melody with the thumb while my fingers attempt to handle chords simultaneously. It comes out slowly, joltingly, in fits and starts. Yet the more I play, the more I remember the instrument. Or maybe it's like the instrument remembers me.

Finally, I look up to find Bella looking with tears glistening in her eyes.

"Whoa," she whispers.

I put the instrument aside and move across the limo to sit beside her. Her leg touches mine, the heat shimmering into me. The more time I spend pressed up against her like this, the saner these insane thoughts feel. It's like there's this connection in us—this sheet of music only we can read that makes sense to us .

"That was incredible," she whispers.

"I was rusty."

"Rusty, passionate, genuine."

I take her hand, being careful only to take her hand and not give in to the desire, resuming what we started last night.

"Maybe I'll take it up again," I murmur.

"Why did you quit?"

"I only played because it made my mother happy. She loved to listen to me. She always insisted my brother and I have an artistic outlet. His is painting. Mine was the guitar. The difference was, he genuinely loved his."

"What about you?"

"I just loved the look on Mom's face … and now yours."

"See?" She squeezes my hand. "That means you've got all the motivation in the world to play, right?"

I meet her eye. I'm about to say, " But I thought this was just a deal ." Then she flinches, and I realize I don't have to say it. She saw what I was going to say anyway. She can read me as easily as she reads music. Turning away, she looks at the floor, and I get it. She doesn't want to address this. She wants to live in this in-between space just a little longer.

"Do you think they're watching us?" Bella whispers in my ear as I lead her into the lobby of Ristorante La Bellezza.

"If they're watching anywhere, it's here," I tell her. "The club they burned is just two blocks away."

Bella hugs closer to me as we approach the hostess. The entranceway is a grand marble lobby, long red carpets crisscrossing as they lead to three chambers, all with chandeliers and soft music playing. As the hostess leads us to the private balcony booth—better for people to spot us—I've got my hand on Bella's back.

The fact we're doing this for show, or even partly for show, is a damn shame. At least I can console myself with the idea of, in the future, taking her on more dates, actual dates.

"You look so beautiful," I tell Bella after we order some nonalcoholic champagne. We have to keep our wits, so no alcohol for us tonight.

She tries to laugh it off, raising her hand as if to wave away the compliment, but I won't let her. Reaching forward, I grab her hand and softly glide my thumb over her knuckle. Or as softly as a onetime musician Mafiosi can, anyway.

"I mean it," I say fiercely. "Don't laugh it off. Don't pretend you don't deserve to hear it; it's the truth. You're beautiful," I say, hesitating, wondering if I'm going too far. "… inside and out."

She slowly squeezes my hand. "So are you," she murmurs. "Even if … the world has made you do certain things."

"It's not the world, Bella. You can't give me that out. It's me. I made my choices. I chose to pick up after my father passed away."

"To keep the city safe, right?"

"Safer than it would be if somebody else were running it," I say, nodding. "But that doesn't make me a good person."

"It doesn't make you a bad person, either." Her expression falters as she looks over my shoulder. "Those guys are staring."

Without turning, I ask, "What do they look like?"

"Two men … They're wearing slick suits with their hair combed back. They remind me of you, except they are less handsome and nowhere near as jacked."

I smirk. "Is one on the lankier side?"

"Yeah."

"That's our man."

"Are you going to …"

I shake my head. "They know I can't do anything here, and neither can they. Otherwise, they wouldn't be here, but this is good. It means our plan has worked."

"We've successfully turned me into bait."

"We can stop this anytime?—"

He cuts me off before I can finish. "No. I'm helping. I want to help."

"For your mom," I say, nodding.

She flinches. I want to snatch the words back. I sound so damn petty and judgmental. It's like I need to know she feels the same as me, which is pretty damn unreasonable because I'm not even sure how I feel. Liar , a voice whispers. For a second, it sounds like my mother. I remember what Elio said. If Mom were still here, she'd want me to find someone.

After a pause, Bella says, "They're still watching …"

Then she leans in and kisses me long and hard. It's a forget-everything-else sort of kiss. It's the kind of kiss that draws me in and makes the rest of the world not mean a damn thing. I gently smooth my hand over her cheek, then lean back, my whole body feeling light as air and hot as fire, full of need.

Need . Something is happening here. Something unique, and it feels so, so natural.

"They just got up and left," Bella murmurs.

"That's because they've seen everything they need to see. They know they can't do a damn thing about it with all these civilians around. Well, neither can we."

"So what do we do now?" she asks.

"What else?" I grin. "We enjoy our date."