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“Thanks,” I mumble sleepily.
I’m drifting back to some much-needed sleep when I think I hear Jerry’s low voice from the front seat, “I like her, Mr Barkly.”
And in my dreams, Matthew holds me closer, presses a soft kiss on my forehead and whispers back, “I like her too, Jerry.”
CHAPTER 11
“Natalie? Hey, Nat?” A gruff voice pulls at the edges of my consciousness and I push it away. I’m too comfortable here in the land of slumber to be disturbed.
“You’re home,” the voice insistent on waking me up now combines with a gentle shoulder shake. Fine. I guess I’ll wake up.
“What time is it?” I’m groggy, like I’ve been yanked from a deep sleep. “Have I been asleep for long?”
Matthew shakes his head. “Only about ten minutes.” He nods out the window. “Let’s get you inside.”
I shuffle across the seat in a half-asleep daze and wave to Jerry. “Thanks for the ride,” I mumble, remembering my manners.
“You’re welcome, Miss. I’ll see you soon.”
Matthew opens my door and helps me out, his arm steady around my back. A good thing, since my legs have the muscle control of a newborn foal.
“Sorry for falling asleep.” I yawn as we amble up the path to my front door. “I’m not great company in the middle of the night.”
His eyes crinkle in the corners, his smile white and blinding in the darkness of the midnight sky. “You are perfect company at all times. Day or night.”
Huh. Well, what to say to that?
“How are you not exhausted?” Deflection is the way to go, apparently. “You just played the biggest, longest match of your life. Why are you holding me up?”
His arm tightens around me. “Because it brings me great pleasure to hold you, New Girl. Any chance I get.”
We stop at my front door, and I stare at him. Why is he saying and doing these boyfriend-y things when there’s no one other than Jerry—who’s not even watching—here to see it? Maybe he’s practising for when the spotlight is on us? That has to be it.
“You’re very good at this whole fake boyfriend thing.”
“And speaking of the fake boyfriend…” he looks uncertain. A rarity for him. “What do you think about kissing? Me, specifically?”
I choke on nothing and wheeze for several moments. Did he just say kissing?
“Um?”
“It’s just that it will be expected, you know? In public. And I think we should do it now, so that the first time isn’t in front of a bunch of people.”
Makes sense. But still…
“You want to make sure we don’t suck at it?”
He smirks, stepping closer to my personal space. “No, that won’t happen.”
“Cocky!”
“Just confident,” he grins. “It’s more that I want our first kiss to be…”
He stops and I mentally fill in the gaps. Brief? Friendly? Over-and-done-with?
“Personal. Private, just for us.” He finishes, his voice husky.
“Just for us?”
