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)
Even though they’re identical twins, Fiero carries himself differently than his brother, more confident and open, like he can take on the world, whereas Matteo always gives me the impression that he’s studying everything and everyone, figuring out exactly how the world works.
“Good afternoon, beautiful.” Fiero pulls me into a hug and gives me a quick kiss.
“Hello, handsome.”
His face cracks into a grin. “American women are like no others.”
I arch a brow. “Is that a compliment?”
“It certainly is.” He’s still smiling as he tucks me under his arm, just as he did the day before. I wonder if he’ll take me back to his house to pick up where we left off yesterday, but instead he asks, “Would you like a coffee?”
Though I’m disappointed that we’re not heading someplace private, caffeine still holds appeal. “Yes, please.” I didn’t get much sleep last night as my mind tried to process the new, unbelievable reality of dating two gorgeous Italian men. Today, I’m too excited to feel tired, but underneath it all, I know I’m running on fumes.
“How were your classes today?” he asks.
“Good.” Not that I remember anything beyond Matteo’s kiss.
His tone is neutral as he asks, “Did you see my brother?”
“Yes …” I draw out my single-word response, turning it into a question.
“And he’s told you about our intentions?”
“Yes, he did.” I’m still feeling awkward about the situation, but I’m also grateful he’s bringing it up so everything can be clear and out in the open.
“And what do you think?” he asks, looking down at me.
“I’m not sure what to think, honestly.”
Fiero stops and pulls me to the side. “You’ve known Matteo for quite a while.”
“Yes?”
“And you’ve only just met me.”
“That’s true.”
He looks aside for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before looking back at me. “Do I, how do you say, have a … shot with you?”
If I were a cartoon character, my jaw would be dropped all the way to the ground. Is this stunning man, this brought-to-life statue of male perfection, really asking me, Dani Fenton, loser at love, If he has a chance with me?
His question is laughable, but somehow, I answer with a straight face, as if multiple gorgeous men pursue me every day. “I’d like to get to know you better, yes.”
“Good. That’s good.” He looks genuinely pleased and a little relieved. He doesn’t come off as insecure in any way, but maybe the argument with his brother yesterday put doubt in his mind.
I’m surprised by how serious he seems, too. Yesterday, prior to Matteo finding us, I thought I was headed into a one-night stand with Fiero, but he seems to have intentions for a relationship beyond the bedroom.
After Matteo visited me last night, I wondered if a habit of brotherly competition might be playing a role in their pursuit of me – maybe they always want what the other one has – so while we’re on the topic, I take the opportunity to ask questions.
“Have you and Matteo dated the same woman before?”
Fiero shakes his head immediately, putting my mind at ease about the competition aspect. He puts his arm around me and we continue down the street. “We usually have different tastes in women, but there is something special about you.”
We round the corner and go into a coffee shop, where he insists on paying for my vanilla latte. He orders a single shot of espresso for himself and we stand at a table by the window to enjoy our drinks.
“There was a girl we both liked when we were seven,” he says, picking up our earlier discussion. “Beatrice Romano. She was two years older than us, and we made fools of ourselves trying to impress her.” He laughs softly at the memory.
“We would ride our bikes in front of her apartment building, and when she came outside we would try to do tricks. But we had just learned to ride, and we weren’t very good.”
I smile, picturing them as adorable young boys. “What happened? Did she choose one of you?”
“No, but she ran to get her mother when we crashed into each other. Matteo broke his arm and I broke my leg. We haven’t competed over a girl since.” He drains the last bit of caffeine in his cup and his lips curve into a smile. “Until now.”
I’m flattered and thrilled to have caught their attention, but I can’t help wondering if something will get broken this time, too. Probably not a limb, but maybe one of their hearts?
Or maybe mine.
When we finish our drinks, we continue a leisurely walk through town until we come to an art gallery.
“Would you like to go in?” he asks.
I shrug and smile. “Sure. I don’t know much about art, though.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not a painter. We can just enjoy the pieces together.”
On the street, Fiero walks with his arm around my shoulder, but once we’re inside the gallery, he holds my hand instead. It’s a whole new kind of pleasure. It makes me feel like I’m his girlfriend, and I can only half focus on the artwork, distracted as I am by the warmth of his rough palm against mine, and the way he occasionally strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.