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For anyone who craves a big mafia boyfriend to adore you, that will annihilate anyone who dares to cross you.
Don’t get me wrong, my hands and feet get cold easily, and it sucks when I can’t bury them into a nice chunky blanket. But at the end of the day, I’m the kind of girl who thrives when it’s a little bit chilly. R.I.P. to the summer girls who will not be enjoying this location as much as I will.
“Half and half,” he answers. “There won’t be snow, but there are some colder nights. A few hot days as well, but it’s pretty moderate.” I couldn’t ask for a better reply.
We both turn to find Matteo walking toward us, slapping the wind to get it off of him like that’s even possible. “Stupid fucking nature,” he grunts, running a hair through his hair. “I should have made Nico come get you guys. My poor hair.”
“You want a kiss?” he asks, head tilted to one side. “From you,” I clarify. “Just from me?” My head bobs, and breathily, I answer, “Just from you.” “And what’s my name?” he asks, hands finding the stone wall on either side of my head as he leans down, watching my lips. The way he’s looming over me is addictive. “Dmitri.”
