Ad copy

In shock, barefoot, in my pajamas and holding a hot water bottle, my mouth hanging open. “Hey.” His voice is soft and low, sending an entirely inappropriate flutter through my stomach. Matteo Knight is standing on my doorstep. He’s here. Wearing his signature dark jeans, and a fitted black T-shirt, over which he’s thrown a corduroy shirt that hangs open. His hair is slightly tousled. His gaze dark and penetrating. He looks unfairly good, and also completely unexpected. It suddenly dawns on me, the reason why he’s on my doorstep. “You’re checking up on me?” From our phone conversation I sensed he was fishing for information. This, however, is something else, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. “Checking up on you?” He frowns, like he hadn’t even considered this option. “Nah.” He stops there, not offering any further enlightenment. I don’t believe him, but he’s hovering around the door, and in my shock I’ve forgotten how to be civil. “Come in.” I open the door wider, and hug my hot water bottle closer as he steps inside. “You cold?” he asks. “I’m … not well. I told you. What are you doing here?” “Yeah, so …” He rakes a hand through his hair again. “I got this for you. Hope you feel better.” He hands me a gift bag. I blink, a few times, confusion meshing with quiet surprise. “What’s this?” “Something … I think they call it a care package.” He glances around. I feel anxious as he surveys my tiny apartment with its worn couch facing a TV balanced on a narrow stand, and a small coffee table on the side. He eyes the compact kitchenette and the two-seater wooden table tucked into the corner by the window. It’s not much, and nothing fancy, nothing like what he’s used to, I imagine, but it’s clean and tidy, and it’s mine. “A care package?” I shove my hot water bottle at him, and rifle through the bag to find a few bags of the mixed nuts that I like. He noticed. There’s also a big bar of my favorite dark chocolate with hazelnuts. Another one of my favorites. Also, two red apples. I stare at everything for a moment. An unfamiliar warm feeling spreads through my chest, and it has nothing to do with the lingering heat of the hot water bottle. This is what it must feel like to have someone care for you. Most people don’t notice the little things about me. What I eat. The snacks I grab when I’m working through lunch. Matteo did.