Ten minutes later, on the dot, Matteo’s car pulled up outside the restaurant, and I dropped a couple of bills on the table and hurried to meet him. Ever the gentleman, he got out of the car and made his way around it to open my door for me, then hopped back in after I had.
I searched his expression for any signs of the rage I’d heard in his voice on the phone, but he was smiling at me now, dimples firmly in place. He leaned over the console and kissed my lips lightly before switching the car on and driving off.
“You look gorgeous,” he told me.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “I am literally in leggings.”
“Yeah, and your ass looks fantastic. Aren’t fat asses trending?”
“Are you saying I have a fat ass?”
“The fattest.” He pretended to look me over. “Might as well quit college and join
