In a Heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) (13 page)

Go after her with everything you’ve got, man.

Beppe’s words echoed in his head again – because that was exactly what he intended to do. But he had to be smart about it; if he pushed too far too soon, she’d run. He had to make her lose control. And considering the way she reacted to him just five minutes ago, it wouldn’t be that hard.

And I’ll enjoy every second of it.

*

By the time Stella had dressed and walked downstairs, Max was lying comfortably on the sofa, one arm on his stomach, the other behind his head. He had a bottle of orange juice half empty on the coffee table. As she descended the stairs, his gaze shifted from the TV to her and his lips parted in a seductive smile. Stella was glad she’d worn flats, because his stare made her dizzy and she might have missed a step with a less comfortable pair of shoes.

Max was back to his flirty self. However, now that she knew him better, that just added another layer to him. It wasn’t just attraction she felt anymore. It was something deeper, something that burned in her chest and made her belly do flips every time he fixed her with his sexy hazel eyes.

Involuntarily, her lips parted, reacting of their own accord to his panty-dropping stare. He got up and went to her, before she’d got to the last step. Even with the height advantage of that step, he was still taller than her. He stood right in front of her and Stella tilted her head to look at his face. Max was watching her through hooded eyes and she marvelled at his long, thick eyelashes. He stared at her for a few more moments, not saying anything. Stella desperately wanted to break the silence, but her breath was stuck in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

He leaned in and brushed her hair off her left shoulder, exposing the thin strap of her dress and making a shiver run down her body. Then he kissed her on the cheek – and lingered there for what seemed like an eternity.

“You look better than any meal we can order at the restaurant,” he said, as his warm breath tickled her neck. “Let’s just stay here and have you instead,” he whispered closer to her ear and she physically shivered.

Just as she silently cursed her traitorous body, it decided to help her and her tummy rumbled. Max chuckled and offered her his arm.

“Come on; let’s go and eat. We’ll save you for dessert.” He winked at her as he led her towards the door.

Stella realised she hadn’t spoken a word since she’d come downstairs. If he could make her lose her tongue that easily, she was in big trouble.

Chapter Ten

The restaurant was nice and cosy, although it was right on
via XX Settembre
which was very busy tonight. The night was warm, so they chose a table outside. People passed right by the table, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone. Italians loved their walks. They’d just stroll the main streets all evening, meeting friends, laughing, sitting down for a cocktail or two, then walking again.

No wonder people here were much healthier than back home
, Stella thought.

They ordered their food and drinks and Stella took out her phone to text her mum. She left it on the table so that she could hear it if Lisa rang – she’d said that if she wasn’t too tired after work she might swing by and join them.

Their drinks arrived quickly; Max had ordered a beer since he was driving and Stella had a freshly squeezed lemonade.

“You must turn into a terrible drunk,” said Max, as he watched Stella sip her lemonade.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, when you drink you become someone else – like a bigger, angrier version of yourself.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve never seen you drink alcohol since you arrived. You’re a nineteen-year-old, abroad, alone, out with friends every night. Your restraint has to have an explanation. That’s what I came up with.” He grinned at her, obviously proud of his conclusion.

“I guess you’ll never know,” Stella teased in return.

“Oh, come on: I want to see the wild Stella. Don’t you ever lose control?”

“I don’t have to be drunk for that. The ‘wild Stella’ can easily come out when I’m very sober.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“If you’re a good boy, maybe you will.” Stella winked at him playfully and Max laughed at that. He leaned closer to her over the table and lowering his voice said,

“I don’t think the good boy is gonna cut it.” He winked in return and slipped his hand over Stella’s.

They stayed like this a few more seconds, staring at each other as Max’s face grew serious. Stella didn’t like the intensity with which he stared at her and she desperately needed a change of gear.

“So, tell me about you, Max.”

“What d’you want to know?” He leaned back in his chair, letting go of her hand.

“How come your name’s Max? Not very Italian.”

“My name’s Massimo. But my mum has called me Max from the moment I was born, so it just stuck. My dad was the only one who insisted on calling me Massimo.”

He lowered his eyelids and avoided eye contact with Stella, which led her to think that he didn’t really want to talk about his dad. She was fine with that.

“Massimo. I like it.”

He glanced at her in an uncertain way, as if deciding whether he liked anybody but his dad using his full name. Almost immediately his frown disappeared and a lopsided smile took its place.

“I like how you say it, too. You should say it more often,” he said, as his eyes travelled to her lips and lingered there for a while.

Stella should have cleared her throat and said something, changed the subject – anything. But all she could do was stare at Max’s perfect face. And then she did the only thing she shouldn’t have done – on an impulse she licked her lower lip and caught it between her teeth. Max’s hazel eyes flashed back to hers and darkened.

“Stella ...” – his voice was so low it almost sounded like a growl. It jerked her out of the moment and, clearing her throat ten seconds too late, she leaned back in her chair to create some distance between them. With him being so close, so focused on her, the atmosphere was much more intense than she wanted. This evening was about getting to know one another and
overcoming
their pure attraction to each other, not getting sucked in deeper.

“Tell me about your mum.”

“Wow, you do know how to ruin a moment.”

Stella laughed – asking a man about his mother definitely brought him out of any passionate thoughts. As if on cue, the waitress brought their food and it looked and smelled delicious. They immediately tucked into it.

“Well, my mother came to Italy from England as a holiday rep for a big holiday company right after she finished school. She intended to take a gap year and decide what to do with her life; she never intended to stay here. But she met my dad and it was love at first sight; they got married a year after they met. Besides, she really liked her job. She was always good with people and languages and it was perfect for her. However, she wanted to grow and develop, not be a holiday rep her whole life. When she got pregnant with Gianna, instead of taking the time off and resting, she took classes in French. She claims it was a piece of cake, since she already spoke Spanish and Italian. She learned German when she was pregnant with me. To cut a long story short, in the seven years since she’d first arrived in Italy, my mum was speaking five languages and working as a tour guide in Venice and the area, as well as freelancing on private boat trips and gallery tours. At the same time, she’d got married and had two children.” Stella noticed how proud Max was of his mum – it was written all over his face.

“She sounds like quite a force of nature,” she said.

“Yeah, she is. Mum’s incredible. No wonder Dad fell head over heels in love with her. They were blissfully happy all those years; it was sickening to watch. They’d always kiss and cuddle, laugh and tease each other.”

Max paused and focused his attention on his food, as if trying not to think about the past. Stella didn’t want to make him uncomfortable and decided against asking any more questions, leaving it to him to talk about what he wanted.

“She works a lot now. I rarely see her. That’s her way of coping, I guess.” He took a sip of his beer and looked gravely at Stella, watching closely for her reaction. If he expected to see pity or sadness, he didn’t. All she could feel for his mother was understanding.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Stella began, turning the conversation in a completely new direction, because the grief in Max’s eyes was killing her. “I was meaning to ask you – can I borrow a Genoa shirt for the match tomorrow?”

“You want to borrow my shirt?” His lips stretched in a lazy smile.

“One of your shirts.”

“How do you know I have more than one?”

Stella snorted. “What kind of a fan are you if you have only one shirt?”

Max laughed and nodded.

“OK. I can lend you one. But you do realise it’s in
my
size.” His eyes roamed over her body suggestively.

“I’ll think of something.”

“Sure,” shrugged Max. “We can swing by my house after dinner and I’ll give it to you. Speaking of football games, I play in a small, strictly amateur club. We’ll be playing this Sunday lunchtime. Lisa and everyone else usually comes; we have a laugh and grab a bite afterwards. D’you wanna come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Are you any good?”

“Am I any good? Baby, you’re looking at the glue that holds the whole team together.”

“What position do you play?”

“Midfielder.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“That’s a really responsible position. You know how they always say that footballers are thick. I personally think that you can’t be stupid if you’re a midfielder. You have absolute control of the game and have to be able to see every angle. You’re in charge. You mess up and the whole team suffers. And of course, some of the most beautiful goals are scored not by strikers, but by midfielders.” Stella paused because Max was watching her intently with a half smile on his face. “What?”

“You really like football, don’t you?”

“I think we established that the very first day we met.”

“No, I mean you
like
it. Enjoy it. Anyone can memorise facts about teams. You speak with passion.”

Stella nodded, but didn’t feel like elaborating.

“So you’re going to make me answer all those personal questions, but you’re not going to return the favour?” He said it with humour, but there was disappointment in his voice as well. Stella knew it wasn’t fair to ask him about his family and not say anything about hers.

“Eric loved football,” she said after a pause. “My brother. He took me to games, made me study Liverpool’s history as if it was taught in school. His passion was contagious. After he was gone, I felt that if I stopped watching football, he’d be mad if he could see me. It was difficult at first because it reminded me so much of him. But I didn’t stop and in time it became the only thing that kept him alive in my mind.”

Max entwined his fingers with Stella’s over the table and they ate in silence for a while.

“You know, I’ve always thought that eating with someone is as intimate as having sex with them,” said Max, breaking the silence and circling Stella’s palm with his thumb. She smiled and looked at him in surprise. “What?”

“That’s exactly what I think, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But there’s more. I think you can tell how someone is in bed by watching them eat.”

“Yeah?” Max smiled and raised an eyebrow. “And what did you learn about me tonight?”

Just as Stella was thinking how to formulate her answer, Rico appeared out of nowhere and flopped down next to her.

“Hi, guys,” he said in Italian.

“Hey,” said Stella, surprised at his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?”

“I was passing by and I saw you. I thought we might finish what we started today on the beach.” He winked at her – right in front of Max, who was glaring at Rico with a mix of anger and annoyance. Rico, however, didn’t seem a bit concerned about the guy opposite him, because all his attention was focused on Stella.

He picked up her phone, which was still lying on the table, and started typing on it. Then he took out his own phone and typed something in there as well.

“There. No more excuses,
bellissima
. I’ll call you.” And with that he was gone.

Stella didn’t know what to make of this guy – he seemed charming and kind, albeit a bit too cheeky. But she definitely didn’t fancy him. When he’d asked her about her number today at the beach, she had said she’d forgotten her phone at home. What just happened was karma’s way of paying her back for the lie. Karma
was
a bitch. Stella couldn’t help but smile at the thought and shook her head.

“Are you dating him?” Max’s voice was dead serious and dangerously low.

“What? No ... I ... he asked for my number today on the beach. I said I’d forgotten my phone. I guess I couldn’t lie tonight.”

“Why didn’t you want to give him your number? I thought you wanted someone ‘not too intense’ for a summer fling.” Max made air quotes with his fingers and somehow that irritated Stella even more than his nasty tone. She was ready for a mean reply, but Max’s words from the beach yesterday sounded in her head as if he’d just said them: