Chapter 22 "You ever eat here before?" Matteo asked as we settled into a diner not too far from the club. "Nah," I said, twirling the water glass between my palms, trying to cool my annoyance. He smiled. The waiter slid plates in front of us-his steak bleeding red, mine a thick cut-well done, like me. My eggs were scrambled; his were fried and runny. I wondered how Raziel took his steak. How he would look sitting across from me at a restaurant. It wasn't something we could do. I shook the thought away. I picked up the knife, but Matteo stopped me, hand brushing mine. "Let me." He pulled the plate toward him, knife glinting as he sliced the steak into neat, even bites. He was treating me like I was fragile porcelain. Nobody had ever done that. I didn't know how I felt about it, but a few butterflies took flight in my stomach. He slid it back in front of me, fork resting on the edge. I tried to play it off, stabbing a piece like it didn't mean nothing. "What are you, some kind of gentleman gangster?" He chuckled. "Not hardly. I'm an ER doc." I froze mid-chew. "Stop lying." "Dead serious. At Bayfront Medical in St. Pete. Nights." I raised a brow. "I thought you were like Priest... or Raziel." His eyes stuck on me. "No. Not the life I wanted." He leaned in, softer. "I wanted to clear the air. I know about you, about what you beat. Most people don't come back from that." The steak got heavy in my throat. I swallowed hard. "That supposed to impress me? Endear me to you?" He frowned and shook his head. "It's me trying to tell you I see you. And I don't believe you are what people try to break you down to be. You're not just what people say. You're beautiful. Resilient." My phone buzzed in my clutch. I grabbed it and checked. Raziel: Where are you? I flipped it over, face down, like the screen was poison, and put my focus back on Matteo. "Thank you for saying that," I said, leaving it at that. We managed a decent conversation after that. By the time the check came, I was too restless to sit still. Matteo must've read it on my face. "You want to go home?" "No." I had a feeling Raziel would be there. That's how we ended up parked at the beach. Not my beach, but close by. I don't know what it is about being near the water, but it does something to me. Quiets the static. Takes the edge off that raw, internal scrape I wake up with most days. Maybe it's the pull of something bigger than me. The ocean didn't care who I was. I kicked off my heels, tucking my feet under me in the passenger seat. "So, Dr. Matteo. You save lives by day, and by night... what?" His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "I fish. I paint. I travel." He said it like a list, like he was checking boxes. Then he hesitated, lips pressed together, eyes stuck straight ahead. "What do you like to do, Maya?" He wouldn't look at me. I leaned over, grabbed his jaw, turned his face to mine. "Don't do that," I said softly. "If you ask me something, look at me." His eyes locked on mine, darker up close. I smirked, letting my thumb brush his stubble like it was nothing. "What do I like to do?" I leaned back in my seat. "I like dancing. I like sewing. I like good food, road trips with no plan." "Why doesn't someone as pretty as you have a significant other?" My mind drifted to Raziel. He wasn't my significant or my other. Not at the moment when he had pissed me off so badly. I looked away, out at the dark water. "It's complicated." "Isn't it always?" My phone buzzed. I looked. Raziel: Where the fuck are you? "You gonna answer him?" I fisted the fabric of my dress. I wondered what he'd say if he knew it was Raziel. "No." "Why not?" "Because he's an asshole." The waves crashed loud. "Does that mean I have a chance?" I giggled. "No. I'll eat you alive." He laughed, leaned closer, his voice dropping playful. "I think I'd like being eaten." Something hot twisted in my chest-anger at Raziel, curiosity about Matteo. Matteo was nice. Raziel was an asshole, but I gave him pussy. Matteo deserved something. I turned to Matteo and said, "You want to go skinny dipping as a reward for being a gentleman?" His eyes lit up. "Yes," he said, no hesitation. I opened the door and stepped out into the night. He followed. The sand was cold under my bare feet, the air thick with salt. I breathed in. Raziel was on my mind, even as I laughed, pulled my dress over my head, and stood naked in the dark under the moon. Matteo stopped, his eyes sweeping me in. His breathing sped up, his chest rising and falling fast. He smiled, slowly. "So..." He spread his hands, teasing. "Where do you want to start?" I frowned. "What you mean?" "You told me you'd eat me alive. Where do you want to take your first bite from?" I threw my head back and laughed. "I want you to start by getting just as naked as I am." He saluted me. He was so corny. "Yes, ma'am," he said and started removing his shirt. My eyes got stuck on his eight-pack. I bit my lower lip as I watched. This was turning out to be a more interesting night than I thought it would be. Five-year-old Annie, who can understand animals, saved Landon Hawthorne, a wealthy businessman, from suicide. Now she's his whole world and he's her legal cheat-code against every villain fate throws ...