Page 101 of The Golden Scoop

I snort. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m serious.”

“They weren’t bad guys,” I deflect. Easier to focus on third parties than on the fact that Matt was ready to square up with random men on my behalf. “I wasn’t what they wanted.”

“You’re a ten, Mills. Even that is selling you short.”

“I’m five-foot-two with an attitude.”

“Feisty and easy to throw around…”

I gasp, the last surviving lightbulb in my brain flickering back to life.

“What about…” I start, suddenly unsure I want the answer after all. “You know…”

“Sex?”

I nod. He exhales slowly, then shakes his head.

“Bullshit,” I blurt.

“Nope.”

“But you’re a guy.”

Matt huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. One who gets turned on by overalls.”

Right. Solid point. Once again, I’m left speechless. There’s never been someone in my life who’s wanted me this steadily, this intentionally. And apparently, I’ve wasted the last two years blinded by our bickering, enough to miss the signs.

“I know the perfect way to get you out of this spiral,” he says, standing and taking me with him.

Yes! His bedsheets are calling my name.

“We’re going for a swim.”

“What?”

“Emma’s central control room is clearly overheating. Immediate cooldown required,” Matt says. His hand slips under my shirt and settles on my waist, sending another wave of goosebumps all over my skin.

“I don’t even have a swimsuit,” I tell him, voice barely above a whisper.

“We skinny-dip.” He leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Hands up.”

I do as I’m told even thought this feels like an objectively terrible idea. What if someone sees us? We’d be all over the news. Naked.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “Trust me.”

Once we’re in the pool, my muscles loosen instantly. Warm air. Cool water. Matt’s hand gripping me tight. Relaxation rolls through me so fast I finally understand why science insists it’s all chemical.

“I could get used to this,” I mumble. I cling to Matt’s chest like a panda to a tree while he drags us to the deep end.

“Which part? The house or me?”

“Both,” I admit. “Although one of them keeps distracting me enough to forget my basic motor functions.”

We behave for most of the morning. Matt washes my clothes while we shower, and then head out for a quick lunch before parting ways. The normalcy of it all makes the ache in my chest grow stronger with every passing minute.

I don’t want this to end. And I can’t help thinking if my track record with relationships has a say… something’s bound to go wrong.