165
Matteo’s POV
I wasn’t sure why she’d said yes to dinner this time.
We’d been circling each other for weeks now, an unspoken tension and awareness building every time we were in the same room. When I’d asked if she wanted to grab a drink after work, I half-expected her to shut me down, sharp and decisive, like she always did when things got too personal.
But this time, she surprised me. She had hesitated for a moment before nodding, her eyes guarded.
Now, we were sitting in the corner of a dimly lit bar, far enough from the rest of the after-work crowd that it felt like our own little world. Gianna nursed her glass of red wine, her fingers tracing the rim absently, while I sipped a whiskey neat, watching her.
She was quiet tonight. Not the composed, commanding quiet she carried at
