Her heart dropped to her stomach. Alia couldn’t understand why, but she felt ready to hurl.
A woman in a bedroom.
Matteo Montgory, freshly out of the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel around his waist.
Even a fool could figure out what they had been up to before Alia had so rudely interrupted.
Alia needed to escape. Embarrassnt flooded through her body and her toes dug into the floor. There was nothing she wanted more than to bury herself alive so as to hide from the awkward scenario.
"I’m so sorry―!" She had barely even squeezed the words out of her lips before Matteo’s calm voice interrupted her.
"I’ll be back," Matteo said, tossing the words back to the woman in the room without even turning his head. His gaze was locked onto Alia’s, and his hand on her waist tightened its grip, disallowing her to run away in a panic.
He stepped forward and out of the room, closing the door shut with his other hand. Due to his movents, they were now pressed even closer to one another, and Alia’s skin burned wherever they touched.
Her heart felt like it was caught in her throat, and she couldn’t even breathe properly with the way Matteo’s gaze was fixated on her. Fresh out of the shower, Alia’s skin had a subtle pink glow and looked succulent, like a fruit ripe for picking. His line of sight trailed down from her eyes, then to her plump kissable lips, before it reached her long slender neck, and―
He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Dressed in nothing but a white towel that covered the bare essentials, nearly every inch of Alia’s creamy smooth skin was left for view. Whatever little of it that was covered was purely left for imagination, and mankind’s minds had always been creative.
Matteo cleared his throat before reaching down to grab Alia’s hand. With his fingers gently laced with hers, he tugged her back to the first room he had led her to and where Alia had showered. Once inside, he locked the door shut behind him before finally letting go of her hand.
"Here," he said, holding sothing out.
Alia looked down at his outstretched hand to see a t-shirt, a pair of pajama pants, and so disposable underwear. Her cheeks turned redder and hotter when she noticed Matteo’s thumb pressing against the fabric, and she all but reached out to snatch the clothing over.
She had completely forgotten that she was wearing essentially nothing, and now that she held clothes in her hand, she barely even muttered a word of thanks before she dashed into the bathroom and shut the door.
With the bathroom door locked, she leaned her back against it and heavily panted. The mirror displayed the image of a woman whose cheeks had turned cherry red, a color that couldn’t have been achieved solely by the heat of the shower.
She quickly changed, and when she stepped out of the bathroom again, Matteo was seated at the edge of the bed, swiping through his phone. He had already changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a muscle tee, his hair still slightly damp as he idly wiped at it with a fresh new towel.
Ever since the first ti they t, Matteo had always been dressed in formal wear, be it at work, at the club he owned, or at the event they had just returned from. This was the first ti Alia had seen him dressed so casually, his hair a little ssy from the shower rather than the usual neatly styled appearance.
But even when dressed in leisure wear, there was sothing about Matteo that made him stand out from the rest of his peers. Alia bit her bottom lip. She knew it was rude to stare, but she couldn’t find the strength in her to look away.
Hearing the door open, Matteo looked up, his line of sight colliding with Alia’s, causing the latter to jolt a little in shock.
"You’re done," he stated, his eyes roaming down her body before nodding. "I’m glad the clothes fit you. It’s pretty late. You’ll have to make do for the night."
The words ’make do’ quickly brought Alia’s attention back to the woman’s voice she heard in the other bedroom. She hadn’t managed to peep in and take a look at who the woman was before Matteo had ushered her out. Curiosity burned in Alia’s body, but she tried to tamper it down as best as she could. She recognized that voice, she was sure, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on who it was.
Alia pawed and padded at the hem of the shirt, licking her bottom lip. In the end, she couldn’t help herself but ask, "Do these clothes belong to your girlfriend?"
As soon as the question slipped past her lips, she wanted to slap herself. This was her boss, for crying out loud! That wasn’t a question she should be asking if she wanted to keep this new, very high-paying job.
She shook her head when she realized Matteo had slowly stood to his feet, and she frantically attempted to correct herself.
"I’m s-sorry, Mr. Montgory," she stuttered. "Forgive , I didn’t an to ask sothing so personal―"
Before she realized it, a pair of feet had stopped right in front of her. Matteo’s fingers gently pressed against her chin, his index propping her face up so that her eyes now looked into his. If they were lapping waves on the beach before, now, they were swirling tidal pools that threatened to drown her where she stood.
With their height difference, Alia had to look up significantly just to et his eyes. Sensing that, Matteo bent down just slightly, edging closer until Alia’s back ended up flat against the bathroom door once more.
"Why?" he asked, and Alia thought she had heard wrongly when she noticed a hint of teasing embedded in the baritone of his voice. "Does it bother you?"
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