“He’s a horrible human being,” I state.
“We all know that. But look at the people who manage to accept it—they get his trust.”
“I can’t condone everything he does, Elise.”
She shrugs. “I can’t, either, but the people he does it to seem to find a way. Look at Mia. She sort of baffles me, but despite his desire to literally kill her when he met her, she’s like one of his favorite people now.”
Elise is absolutely right—and she doesn’t even know how true that is.
Expressing any kind of affection makes me uncomfortable enough, but the thought of accepting Mateo causes everything within me to recoil. I’ve spent most of my life doing exactly the opposite. It’s been easy to keep that wall up for five years, despite working to keep him safe and successful every damn day, because I nursed it in my heart. Each night when I went to bed, each morning when I rose to serve him, I knew why I was doing it—to free Elise. Not for him.
But at the end of the day, I’ve also done plenty of things I didn’t have to do. Things that were not my job at all, weren’t even my business, but I saw a way I could help him, so I did. Sometimes I just do things because, yeah, I want the bastard to be happy.
“I’m not going to tell him that. Men don’t say shit like that to each other.”
“Then show him,” she advises.
“I don’t know how,” I say honestly. “You may not have noticed, but this is my weakest area. I don’t know how to do this shit.”
Leaning in to nudge me in the shoulder, she says, “Something you don’t know how to do. Go figure.”
“I guess it’s your turn to tutor me,” I say lightly.
Elise nods, turning her attention back to the television. “Okay, lesson one is going to be incredibly simple and also probably really hard. Leave your judgments at the door. When he’s doing something you don’t approve of, just respond with love. Just let it go and love him. Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t get surly. Don’t respond the way you do. Think, ‘what would Elise do?’ If I can be kind to people who buy and sell me like a pair of shoes, you can keep your disapproval over Mateo’s life choices to yourself.”
I raise my eyebrows. “See, I’m one of those shoe shoppers you’re referring to. You say things like that and it makes me wonder—”
Apparently not in the mood for my nonsense, Elise launches herself across the couch and straddles me.
“Oh,” I murmur, losing my train of thought as she yanks her shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor behind her. Suddenly Elise’s boobs in a tight black bra are just about at eye-level. “That’s a very effective way to change the subject.”
Grinning, she swoops in and kisses me. “You think that’s effective?” she asks, between kisses. Then her hand drifts between my legs, and like my cock, Elise’s level of effectiveness rises.
Chapter Twenty
Clearly because my assignment for today is not to judge Mateo and the universe wants me to fail, Mateo and Mia both show up at breakfast this morning without Meg, and with wet hair.
Wet hair.
Mia never came to the table with wet hair when she lived here, and now despite the obscene number of showers in this house where they could’ve showered separately, I’m convinced they took one together.
Elise’s assignment is too hard.
“Where’s Meg?” I ask, watching Mia instead of Mateo. That bastard never looks guilty, but he hasn’t completely disintegrated Mia’s conscience—not yet, at least.
Mia keeps her eyes on her oatmeal as she scoops up a spoonful.
Mateo answers, “Sleeping.”
I nod, still watching Mia. “Right. Pregnancy does tend to make women more tired, doesn’t it?”
Mia isn’t giving me anything so I finally look at Mateo. He’s smirking, because he knows what I’m doing. Once I meet his gaze, he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with amusement, and takes a sip of his coffee.
“I wouldn’t know,” Mia murmurs, sipping from a glass of orange juice.
“When are you and Vince going to start popping out little Morellis?” I ask, to remind her she has a boyfriend.
Mia rolls her eyes. “Literally never.”
I’m not sure why that surprises me. Maybe I have spent too much time with the Morelli men. “You don’t want kids?”
“I do; he doesn’t.”
That just stresses me out more. Now my head is filling up with the colossal disaster of Mateo impregnating Mia—Meg and Vince losing their collective shit. Meg didn’t leave a husband who sucked, so she could probably be managed, but Vince… Jesus Christ.
I don’t even know how much I’m making yet, but I already feel sure I need a raise.
One mess at a time. I need to focus on the outside problems before I start thinking about the ones inside this family. Of course, I can’t talk about work shit with Mateo right now because Mia’s here.