Page 43 of Forbidden Freedom

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I spin around to glare at him some more, then point at Ash. “Matteo, this isn’t nothing. Who goes around and just punches people in the face?”

Zeno’s brows rise as he stares at me and Matteo, then Ash, who only grins at his friend. Zeno rolls his eyes at him. “Fuck, no.”

Ash chuckles before wincing. “You better believe it. I told you.”

Zeno groans and turns around, leaving the three of us in the kitchen. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Matteo comes closer to us, a little too close for my comfort. He’d better not punch Ash again, or that mallet Ash used to smash the cookies will come in handy when I hit Matteo over the head with it.

“What was that about?” Mr. Grumpy growls the words at his friend.

“What was what about?” Ash is so obviously feigning innocence with his big doe eyes that even I can tell he’s full of shit.

“Ash, don’t test me. Was that one of your stupid bets?”

The doc purses his lips and shrugs, like what just happened isn’t out of the ordinary.

“You’re such an asshole. Leave Gemma out of your fucking games, are we clear?”

Matteo grabs my hand and pulls so hard, I practically fly straight into his arms.

He holds me close and stares into my eyes. “Stay away from him, understood?”

My body heat rises for more reasons than I’m willing to admit right now, but I’m crushed to his naked chest, for crying out loud. I’m caught in his stare, and even though I should probably run away from him as far as possible, I’m not sure I want to.

Whereas he’s got a quick temper and has probably done things far worse than I could ever imagine, he also makes me feel alive. There’s suddenly more than the slightly depressing state of acceptance I was in when my future only consisted of marrying a man my dad chose for me. The normally constant pressure I was feeling on my chest has now given way to this foreign sense of peace I can’t remember ever feeling. Add the constant bouts of tingles rushing through my body every time Matteo touches me, and I’m pretty sure I’ve found my kryptonite.

Ash gets up, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.

He walks to the sink and turns on the faucet, probably to clean himself up. “Teo, it wasn’t like that, I swear. I’d never hurt Gemma on purpose. You should—”

“Don’t do it again.” Matteo’s voice is low, his tone threatening and final as his chest rises, his heartbeat thumping wildly against my shirt.

He turns around, dragging me after him, and we head toward the basement door, down the stairs, across the floor mats that line the entire floor of the basement all the way to a set of couches.

His grip is gentle, although it’s easy to see how hard it is for him to keep his irritation at bay. In front of the couch, he nudges me until my butt hits the cushion. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog,” I mumble at his retreating back. Now that he’s not surrounding me with his all-encompassing presence, my anger finds its footing again, bubbling back to the surface.

“Good, because I’m really not into bestiality.”

My mouth falls open at his comment, and I watch him climb into the boxing ring, where Zeno is hopping around in place.

Ash plops down on the other couch that’s perpendicular to mine. He hands me a popcorn bucket and a water bottle, while he opens a bottle of beer for himself.

“Thanks.”

He nods at me, still appearing his carefree self, regardless of what just happened in the kitchen. “Did he really just say he isn’t into bestiality?”

Men. I’ll never understand them.

“I think he did.” I throw a piece of popcorn in my mouth and chew, my irritation slowly melting away with the sweetness. “Is it normal for him to punch people in the face?”

Ash swallows his popcorn and smacks his lips. “Not really. Only when you poke him the right way.”

I’m trying to figure out if he’s saying he made Matteo mad on purpose, just as noise from the ring draws my attention away from Ash. Matteo and Zeno are now wearing boxing gloves and tapping them against each other in the middle of the space. Not even two seconds later, both are throwing punches at the other. I shift around, trying to see every move they make, but half the time, one of them covers the other or is turned away. Gloves hit abs, sides, pecs, chins, cheeks, and backs. Groans and grunts fill the room, and I can’t remember the last time I was so mesmerized by something.

Ash chuckles. “You like that, huh?”


Tags: Jasmin Miller Romance