“I didn’t know he was—I was nursing Dom and I guess we fell asleep. I didn’t…”
Now he addresses me. “You walked into my bedroom and climbed into bed with my wife without an invitation?”
Mia grimaces, looking back at me. I glance at her, but our exchanging looks in front of him just seems to piss him off more.
“Look, I wasn’t trying to—I brought Dom a present, I was looking for Mia. I just wanted to see him. He was just right here—”
Mateo cuts me off. “I sent a picture of your little cuddle session to your girlfriend before I woke you up, so have fun with that later.”
“Goddammit, Mateo.”
“Hey, if I had to see it…”
Mia sighs, scowling and walking away from him. Dom is waking up since we’re all being so loud, and now her focus is on him rather than the two adults who should be able to handle themselves.
“Put that away, please,” she says to Mateo, as she bends to scoop up Dom and draw him against her chest.
“Get off the bed,” Mateo says again.
I ease forward, slowly moving off the bed. It’s uncomfortable for a variety of reasons, but right now the most pressing is because he doesn’t move, and I have to climb off the bed and stand right in front of him. We usually like to keep half a room’s length between us. Standing this close makes it too fucking tempting to try to kill each other. Now we’re face to face, less than a foot apart. I don’t even care that I’m in the wrong here—he never cared when he was, so why should I? I meet his gaze with defiance and see the pure loathing I feel for him mirrored right back at me.
For a split second, just a fraction, I think about moving on the bastard. There’s no Adrian in this bedroom right now. I’d only have to fight Mateo. I could shoot the bastard with his own fucking gun.
The idea dissipates as fast as it popped up. We can’t wrestle around with a gun when Mia and Dom are in the room. As if to remind us of that fact, Mia murmurs reassuring things to Dom on the other side of the bed. My gaze is still locked with Mateo’s. He’s probably entertaining similarly murderous thoughts, considering whether or not he could drag Mia through the trauma of watching me bleed out on her bedroom floor. He’d probably have to switch rooms; she wouldn’t be able to sleep in this one without thinking about me. I’m thinking about Dom’s safety, but this bastard is probably just considering the inconvenience of having to remodel.
Hatred gleams in his eyes as strongly as what I feel for him, but neither of us can do shit about it. Blocked by Mia, just like fucking always.
Mia’s voice is light and cheerful, clearly addressing Dom as she attempts to redirect our mutual hatred toward something more pleasant. “Do you want to see your present? I heard there’s a present in here for a handsome little boy.”
I lift my eyebrows and continue to hold Mateo’s gaze, but I gesture toward them. “Can I go give my son his toy?”
“That is not your son,” Mateo states. “That is my son.”
My jaw locks. I know he says it to piss me off, but it works. He always knows exactly what to say to make me see red. I’m sore enough trying to accept that this son I didn’t know I had with the girl I first fell in love with exists, and now my sworn enemy is taunting me about it. He’s probably not even nice to Dom. Probably doesn’t even fucking like him, just likes having possession of something that rightfully belongs to me.
Anger courses through my veins and my hands clench into fists. Fists that I would love to smash into his smug fucking face. I try to keep it under control, but it’s hard. I’m helpless here. He’s stolen the life that was supposed to be mine and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Come over here, Vince,” Mia says.
Mateo’s gaze snaps to Mia, but she looks at me, consciously avoiding his gaze. She nods her head, eyes slightly widened, as if to silently say, “Hurry up, what the fuck are you waiting for?”
I step around Mateo and approach the foot of the bed where I left the bag when I came in. I don’t want to do this in front of Mateo. I want him to go die. Instead, he stands watch.
I try hard to ignore him, but I can feel the unease in Mia, too. I tell myself he’s making her feel that way with his claustrophobic fucking presence, but there’s an outside chance it’s me. The last time I was in bed with her, probably not such a good memory. For all that she’s trying to divert Mateo’s response to it, she’s probably as confused as he is. Maybe more confused.