Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(29)

I almost gasped.

Did I just think that?

It had been forever since I’d felt . . . since my heart had jolted like someone just brought me back to life.

I exhaled slowly. “Okay, so what do I do?”

His smile was bright. “Drink your beer.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, they’re going to take it away before takeoff.”

“Monsters,” I grumbled to his laughter while I chugged the rest of the beer just in time for the flight attendant to stop by. I handed her the plastic cup as Matt’s fingers grazed my right cheek.

I grabbed his hand at the same time, ready to swipe at the drop that had escaped my mouth.

And there we were. His hand pressed against my cheek. My hand covering his—again.

And me wanting nothing more than for the warmth to stay.

“You two,” the flight attendant said as she collected Matt’s plastic cup. “So adorable. How long have you been a couple?”

“Uhhhhhhh.” I shook my head. “No, no, it’s not, no, really, we’re . . .”

“Friends.” Matt finished with a shrug, pulling his hand away. “Best friends ever since I gave her that stuffed dinosaur.”

I rolled my eyes while the flight attendant laughed and then winked at him. “I like stuffed animals.”

Matt gripped my right arm, pinning me to my spot as he chuckled and said, “Duly noted.”

She walked off.

I mentally wished a hundred curses on her and every stuffed animal in her life and then continued glaring until Matt cleared his throat.

“What?” I pulled away. “She was hitting on you in front of your . . . friend.” I gulped. Saying it out loud, right, I was an idiot.

“She’s clearly a monster who deserves to break out in hives.” Matt nodded solemnly. “Relax, watch a movie, I’ll catch up on work and make sure Willow hasn’t bankrupted me.”

“So many shoes, so little time.” I laughed.

He stared at me, like really stared, like he was trying to see if I was being serious, and then he leaned in. “Do you like shoes?”

“Converse.” I shrugged and grabbed my headphones. “I love Converse and Nikes. Heels are fine, but you can’t run in heels. I mean I could if a bear was chasing me or if I was chasing a taco, but I’d prefer Converse.”

“I mean heels can be useful. What if you were starving?” Matt joked. “You’d have to use your stilettos to kill your own food in the wild, versus wearing Converse and catching it.”

“Exactly!” I threw my arms wide. “Why does nobody understand this?”

He held out his fist, I bumped it. “I get you.”

“Yeah.” The pitter-patter of my heart was back. “You do . . . when you’re not yelling.”

He opened up his computer.

“Or using your damn whistle,” I muttered under my breath.

He leaned in, his lips caressing my ear, I think by accident. I think? “Don’t make me pull it out.”

I let out a weary sigh. What was happening to me? I couldn’t calm the erratic beat of my heart any more than I could get a good deep breath in. “Bet you say that to all the girls.”

Did I just say that out loud?

To my coach?

Friend?

Agent?

Well, good-bye, LA and Seattle. I was going to hell and getting dropped!

Matt burst out laughing, earning the attention of several people sitting in our area as the plane taxied the runway. “Yeah, I deserved that one.”

“Totally.” I exhaled in relief and stared wide-eyed down at my phone as I tried to find a song, any song to listen to.

“For the record,” Matt said in a bland voice, “I don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“Say that . . . to all the girls. In case you were wondering.” With that, he put his own earbuds in, leaving me wondering if there was a line we were crossing that I wasn’t aware of.

I fell asleep with the memory of his skin on mine.

And for the first time in a year.

When I closed my eyes, I did it with a smile on my face.





Chapter Fifteen

MATT

I judged men who watched women sleep.

It was a thing.

A line you didn’t cross.

I never found it romantic in movies, and I didn’t find it romantic now. That wasn’t why I was doing it. I wasn’t hoping she’d wake up and go, How long have you been staring? If anything, she’d grab her shoe from her foot and hit me over the head with it repeatedly until I apologized and handed her a testicle on a silver platter.

No, I watched her out of the corner of my eye because she’d looked so peaceful, because a selfish part of me wanted to know what put that smile on her face, and the competitive part of me needed to know what it took to keep it there.

The plane landed too soon.

I stopped staring.

The smile was gone.

And I felt its loss like someone had just taken away a few extra beats of my heart and refused to give them back.

A town car was waiting for us after we grabbed our luggage, and the closer we got to the hotel, the more Parker fidgeted with the bangles on her wrists or the short fingernails she was hell-bent on destroying.