Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Great. He saw. Of all the people on this planet whom I would not want to witness me locking lips with another man – unwelcome advance or not – Matteo Bestia is at the top of the list.
“I’m fine,” I say stiffly, not meeting his eyes. And then I feel terrible. I struggle with shyness, and one of the worst things about it is that being shy can often be misinterpreted as being rude.
Despite my nerves, I force a smile onto my face. “How are you this evening, Dr. Bestia?”
“I am well, thank you.” He’s always so polite. He looks to be about thirty, but has the manners of an old-fashioned gentleman. To my relief, he doesn’t ask any questions about Jayce. “I am surprised to see you still in town, with Thanksgiving only a day away. Or does your family live here?”
“No, they’re out of state, but I’m staying here this year. My job has extra shifts available, and I have a big paper due next Monday. I can’t afford to spend the time traveling.”
“I see.”
He hasn’t left, so I keep the conversation going, hoping the blush I always get in his presence doesn’t show under the streetlight. “You’re staying in town too?”
“Yes.” He smiles faintly, his oh-so-kissable lips framed by his short, tidy beard, the dark hairs scattered with silver. “This is my first Thanksgiving in the United States.”
“Oh!” The idea comes to me in a flash, but just as quickly I close my mouth before I can continue. He’s probably eating at some faculty member’s home, or with one of the twenty gazillion students who must have invited him by now.
His thick eyebrows lift with interest. “What is it?”
I shrug, embarrassed, and then my words rush out. “I was just going to say, I’m having dinner with a friend and her family, and if you didn’t have other plans and wanted to see what a traditional Thanksgiving dinner was like, you could join us.”
His lips curve, his eyes warm, and I almost have a Matteogasm right on the spot. “That is most kind. If you are sure your hosts won’t mind, I would like that very much.”
“Really?” Ohmygod! I should have thought this through. Classes with Professor Bestia are their own delicious kind of torture; how am I going to get through a meal with him? “Well, great, that’s great, I’m sure they won’t mind. I’ll, uh, I don’t remember the address off the top of my head, so I can email it to you, or text you, or whatever.”
I am a babbling fool, but at least I’m forming sentences. Kind of. I may be jittery with nerves, but if I thought I had a shot with Matteo, I’d be completely paralyzed with fear. That’s what always happens to me around really hot men.
Somehow, he seems unfazed by my ridiculous behavior. “Yes, let me give you my number.”
I whip out my phone with unseemly haste, grateful that I didn’t throw it at Jayce after all. I enter the digits as he recites them, then read them back to make sure I didn’t fumble things in my excitement. Matteo’s number. In my phone.
Seriously, am I twelve? But that’s how old I was the first time I blew it with a cute guy, so maybe part of my personality got stuck at that age, and I regress in situations like these. That’s my excuse, at least, and I’m sticking to it.
“I’ll just confirm with them and then I’ll text you the address,” I tell him, almost eager to get inside now so I can stop acting like an idiot.
“I’ll look forward to it. Good night, Dani.”
“Good night.” I wait until he’s out of earshot before I whisper, “Matteo.”
All Over My Body
Two months later
I’m sitting in the campus cafeteria, picking at a salad, wishing I hadn’t taken another class with Professor Bestia. It’s conversational Italian, to finish out my minor, so I see him four days a week. I enjoy the subject matter, and I hope to put it to practical use someday with a trip to Italy, but being in his presence on a regular basis is sweet agony – so close, and yet so far.
He did come to Thanksgiving dinner with me, and was very polite and charming, of course, as he always is. And he didn’t seem at all bothered by the less-traditional aspects of our Thanksgiving meal, namely, having two groups of people present who are in poly relationships. He was a perfect companion, and, after some initial nerves, I was surprisingly at ease during our time together.
We talked a lot, and I ended up telling him about my family – one older sister, Isabelle, no brothers, parents still married. He asked about the small town I grew up in, and told me about his coastal village in southern Italy, which sounded like a dream.