Page 31 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Emma

“ A bsolutely,” Ben answered, but he wasn’t looking at Mateo. He was looking at me.

At first, when he said he was seeing someone, my heart rate increased, and rage bubbled in my stomach, souring the delicious meal because I am not going to be a willing accomplice to cheating.

Then he said he met her at a club, and I realized he was talking about me.

But the things he was saying… how he described the woman… He couldn’t have been describing me, right? He doesn’t like me. Sure, he likes our scenes, and he likes fucking me—otherwise he wouldn’t keep doing it—but he doesn’t like me as a person.

Right?

The conversation shifted after that, even though I could tell everyone had more questions for Ben.

I have more questions for Ben. Who’s Janessa? Was he truly talking about me? On the very off chance he wasn’t talking about me, why the fuck is he still fucking me when he has someone he’s clearly so smitten with?

Dread washes over me in a harsh wave. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to come to his house tonight. He wants to get in one last session before he ends things to go be with whatever sunshine woman has captured his heart.

Camila brings out a delectable looking flan topped with a berry medley. I’ve never had flan before, and I’m sure it tastes divine just like the rest of Camila’s cooking, but I can’t taste anything over the bitterness of rejection sitting on my tongue.

I knew this would happen. I knew I would get attached to him and he would smash my heart into a million tiny pieces. I tried so hard not to, and yet, I still did.

Stupid, Emma.

I offer to help Camila clean up after we’re finished, but she shoos me away, insisting guests don’t help.

“Mateo, why don’t you take Emma on a tour of the house?” Camila suggests, obviously still set on her match-making scheme.

Mateo looks from his mom to Ben to me then shrugs. “Come on, Emma. I’ll show you my childhood room.” His dark eyebrows bounce twice with innuendo as he holds his arm out for me to take, and I can’t help but giggle.

I like Mateo in a brotherly way. Sure, he’s handsome and charming. Funny and obviously a serial flirt but I don’t feel the tingles in my lower belly like I do with his brother. I don’t wonder what his hands would feel like caressing my body. I don’t have the urge to kiss him .

Ben’s jaw is clenched when I glance at him as I take his brother’s arm. I’m sure I’ll get an earful about it later. Maybe even a few spankings, but he doesn’t get to be upset when I’m only trying to be a polite house guest. Or when there’s the tiniest possibility he’s seeing someone else.

Could this all be fixed with a simple conversation? Sure. But I’m scared of what the conversation will entail, and I’d rather put it off as long as possible.

Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Mateo shows me around the first floor, bypassing the kitchen and dining room, and walks me down a hallway which leads to the primary bedroom and an office. Then, he takes us upstairs, letting me stop to inspect the family pictures hanging on the walls.

Ben isn’t smiling in most of the pictures, instead wearing a scowl like the camera has personally offended him. I stop at one where Cici is a baby, Mateo looks to be about two, and Ben around four or five. Ben’s eyeing Cici warily, like he’s not sure he likes her.

“So, he’s always been grumpy, then?” I ask Mateo, gesturing to the picture.

Mateo laughs. “Yeah. He’s been serious for as long as I can remember. But I think it’s just a facade. I don’t know why; it’s not like our parents were super strict or something super traumatic happened to him. At least, not that I know of. Maybe it’s an oldest sibling trait.”

“Maybe,” I reply noncommittally.

“Are your older siblings not grumpy?”

I think about my dad’s oldest, Henry. He’s twenty years older than me, so we’ve never been close. He’s a bit of a douche, but I don’ t think I’d say he’s grumpy.

My mom’s oldest, Michael, is super chill. He hates drama and likes to be left alone. He’s always cracking jokes and trying to lighten the mood.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you much about my oldest brother. I didn’t really know him until I was eight, and he was already almost thirty. He’s kind of just an asshole.”

Mateo frowns. “I can’t imagine not knowing my siblings. But I only have two, so our situations are different.”

I snort. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

I can tell he wants to ask more questions, but I motion for him to continue up the stairs. He leads me to a closed door, and when he opens it, I immediately know it’s Cici’s old room. The pink walls and floral bed sheets are soft and feminine, matching her perfectly.

Mateo confirms it’s hers then leads me to the next door.

“Now, don’t feel bad, but you’re not the first girl I’ve had in my room.” He winks as he opens the door.

I feign offense. “How dare you! I’m supposed to be the only girl you have in your room.”

“Don’t worry, you can be the most memorable.” He pumps his eyebrows again, and I smack him on the arm. “Ooo, I like ‘em feisty.”

“Oh, stop it.” I giggle, taking in the room. I imagine there were plenty of posters or memorabilia covering the pale blue walls when he lived here. The queen bed is topped with a navy-blue comforter, but the room is warm and inviting just like Mateo .

Mateo grins. “The color of the walls match your eyes. It’s almost like fate. Has anyone told you how pretty your eyes are?”

I roll my eyes. “You are quite the charmer, Mateo Rossi. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“All the time. But I like hearing it from you most,” he drawls as he steps closer to me so our chests are almost brushing. His voice is low when he asks, “You’re the girl my brother was talking about, aren’t you?”

I swallow, looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

Mateo uses two fingers to tip my chin up so I’m forced to look at him.

He and Ben look related, but not the same.

His eyes are brown, like Ben’s, but they’re lighter, softer.

Closer to a golden brown than Ben’s deep coffee-colored ones.

There’s a glimmer of humor there, and the laugh lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles at me.

“I think you are. And I think he’s going to burst into this room any second and rip me a new one for touching you. Ben has always been a possessive man,” he teases. “As his little brother, I like pushing his buttons.”

I’m about to argue that he’s being ridiculous. Ben would never do something so dramatic. But not ten seconds later, the door clangs open, and Ben stands in the doorway, arms folded across his heaving chest. “Get your hands off of her.”

From this angle, I’m sure it looks like Mateo and I were about to kiss. Mateo winks at me again before he removes his fingers from my chin and steps back. “I was just showing Emma my room, nothing nefarious. ”

“You need to be standing an inch away and touching her face to show her your room?” Ben snaps.

Mateo shrugs. “Wanted her to have the full experience.”

“ Mamà wants your help in the kitchen.”

“Does she? I thought she’d be done with—”

“Now.”

I watch Mateo bite back a smug, confident grin before he leaves with a wave and a wink to me. He whispers something to Ben that makes him grind his jaw before he’s out the door.

“Let’s go see my old room,” Ben demands, and I follow, rolling my eyes at his alpha-hole attitude.

Ben leads me across the hall, opening the door to his childhood bedroom. I expected a navy-blue room, or even black, to match his grumpy personality. But instead, the walls are a calming sage green. The bedspread is dark gray with matching green embroidery.

I don’t get to see much else because Ben’s large body is pressing mine up against the now closed door.

“Why was he touching what’s mine, Dulzura? ”

I want to fight him. I want to tell him I’m not his.

But for some reason, all I can do is tell him the truth.

“He told me he thinks I’m the girl you were talking about at lunch, and that at any second you were going to burst through the door and get mad at him for touching me. ” I smile. “I guess he was right.”

“Fucking Mateo,” Ben grumbles, but he doesn’t confirm nor deny he was talking about me at the table. I try not to let it affect me.

“I wasn’t fucking him, actually,” I tease, trying to hide my anxiety with humor .

“And you never will.” Ben nods resolutely. “We’re leaving now. So let’s say goodbye.”

“What? Why?”

His jaw works back and forth. “Because if I have to watch you flirt with Mateo any longer, I might kill my own brother.”

I huff. “You’re being so dramatic right now. I wasn’t flirting with your brother. We were literally just talking.”

“He touched you, Emma. I’d say that was more than talking.”

I’m partially irritated at his protectiveness but mostly swooning. No one’s ever been possessive of me like this. “Whatever. Let me thank your parents for lunch, and we can go.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks out the door.