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My stomach sinks. “I did talk to her.” I roll my lips between my teeth. How do I tell him about our conversation in a way he might understand? I don’t want to tell him that I’m fucking afraid of letting his mother down, so I’m considering letting her walk away instead of dealing with that disappointment. “She has to go back because of work, but we’re going to figure it all out, okay?”

He frowns, disappointment washing over his expression. “Well, that’s fucking stupid.”

My eyes widen. “Matteo, no. That’s an adult word that you can only use when you’re older.”

He purses his lips. “Sorry,” he huffs, struggling with the pancake again.

“Here, let me.” He hands me the spatula and I flip it over. There’s a weird shift between us and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do to make it better. I don’t know how he feels about everything that has already happened in his life, but the last thing I want is for him to feel like he’s being abandoned by me. “I want you and your mother to stay.”

“So she doesn’t want to stay?”

I shake my head, removing one of the finished pancakes from the pan and setting it on a plate. “No, she wants to. It’s just a little bit more complicated than that, but I promise that we will figure it out. I want to see you as much as I can.”

“Okay,” he says after a beat, nodding at me in understanding, although I’m not sure he fully gets it. Thankfully for him, he’s only five. He doesn’t have to deal with all the bullshit that comes along with being an adult.

He climbs down from the chair and I hand him his plate. I finish another pancake, setting it on a different plate before dropping batter for two more into the pan. Matteo settles at the island in the kitchen and I grab the maple syrup from the fridge. He attempts to butter his pancake and while he’s making a valiant effort, I end up taking over, cutting it into small pieces and drizzling syrup over it.

He grabs his fork, pierces a piece and shoves it into his mouth. I watch him for a moment, his face contorting as he starts to chew. “It kind of tastes like cardboard.”

I snort, a laugh escaping me. “Let me try it,” I say as I stab a piece doused in syrup from his plate with my fork. I put it in my mouth and chew, the same flavor and texture definitely off. “It really does taste like maple cardboard.”

Matteo giggles. “My mom’s don’t taste like that.”

“No, they don’t,” I chuckle, shaking my head as I grab the plate from the table and he drops his fork onto it. “Should we order take-out from somewhere?”

He nods eagerly. His smile is bright with laughter lingering in the air around us. “I think we should.”

He’s so right. The pancakes taste nothing like the ones Andi makes.

“Good idea.” I grab my phone, unlocking the screen and opening the web browser. “Should we just get pizza instead?”

“Can we get pineapple and ham on it?”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re one of those people?”

“Yep. My mom said that pineapple and ham belong on pizza and not to let anyone ever tell me anything different.”

Laughter rumbles in my chest and I shake my head at him. “Fair enough. I’ve never actually tried it, but if you two both like it, then I want to try it too.”

At this point, Matteo and Andi could probably convince me that the sky is green and the grass is blue. They both crashed into my life unexpectedly and I can’t imagine not having either of them here now. I love this little guy with my whole damn heart and I’d put my life on the line for him.

And not just him . . .Andi too.

Goddammit it. The realization hits me in the chest like a ton of bricks.

I’m hopelessly in love with Andalina Rossi.

“Okay, since Matteo is in bed, I want the truth about the pineapple and ham on the pizza.”

I glance over my shoulder at Andi as she walks into the bedroom, moving over to the dresser with her clothing. I turn around just as she bends over, my eyes trailing over her perfectly shaped ass. She got home just before bedtime because her meeting with the realtor ran a little late and this is the first time I'm getting her alone since.

A chuckle escapes me and I reach down to adjust my hard cock in my shorts as she turns back around to face me. “It wasn’t terrible.” I pause, snorting. “It was definitely better than the cardboard pancakes I made.”

A smile cracks her face and her soft laughter vibrates through my soul. “Matteo asked me in private if I can make sure you never cook again.”

I smile back at her, shaking my head. “I agree. I would like to never cook again if it’s going to taste like that shit.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”