Page 49 of Anything But Lonely

I push the thoughts to the back of my mind, not letting myself think too much about it.

It was a moment of weakness—and it won’t happen again.

Grabbing my phone, I look back at my messages with Mateo. “I literally texted you that I didn’t need dinner.”

Mateo runs a hand through his hair before grabbing a straw wrapper sitting on the table, folding it between his fingers. “I was already getting food for myself,” he admits.

I contemplate teasing him, seeing how flustered I can get him. But I decide against it, for reasons I don’t let myself think too much about.

“Thank you,” I reply instead. “For the food.” Part of me wants to explain how I’ve just been so busy and forgot to eat, or was too tired. But the excuses die in my throat. I appreciate Mateo not pushing me, and maybe that’s what has me saying, “I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

Mateo’s eyes go to mine as he unfolds the straw wrapper in his hand before restarting the pattern of folds. “Can I ask why?”

“You can ask,” I quip, leaving it at that.

Mateo chuckles, dropping the wrapper into the takeout bag with his other garbage.

“How was the show tonight?” I take another sip of his milkshake.

“Great,” Mateo answers, inching the bottle of water even closer to me, and I relent and take a few gulps. There’s a slight curve to his lips as he continues, “The crowd was fun, and I really liked the venue. Theo, Silas, and I finally nailed the new harmonies.” He interlaces his hands before setting them down on the table. He exhales. “It was a good last show before this little break.”

I notice the way he says it, almost like he’s disappointed, and it has reality settling in once again. Taking one more sip of water, I keep my features schooled, not wanting my own disappointment to show.

“What is it?” Mateo asks.

Or at least I thought I did.

“Nothing,” I say, waving my hand in indifference, when in reality, I’ve been trying like hell to avoid the thought of celebrating my first Christmas without my mom.

Jack and Rumi invited me to join their Christmas morning with Evee, and then there are plans for us all to go to Ava and Anderson’s for brunch.

And of course I should be there with my niece and for Eliana’s first Christmas—Ava’s first Christmas as a mother—but I want to want to.

And I just don’t.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Mateo says softly. “But just know that you can.”

The easy normalcy from moments ago disappears so quietly I almost miss it. In its place is something warm and heavy settling in my chest that I'm not ready to name.

I'm suddenly aware of how close he is, of the gentleness in his voice, and the way he's looking at me like I'm something worth handling carefully.

Vulnerable. Helpless. Exposed.

The feelings from before come rushing back, only they don’t feel as scary. Not with the way he gives me space to do it without being judged or taken advantage of.

It's a kind of intimacy I'm not sure I've ever learned how to let myself feel.

The air shifts, almost like it’s giving me room to say the words I don’t want to carry anymore.

So I do.

“This is my first Christmas without my mom.”

CHAPTER 19

MATEO

My breath catches.