“You’ve got to let go, Matilda,” he says gently.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whisper.
He’s smiling and shaking his head. “You’ve had too much wine. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Just as he’s about to leave, I pounce, grabbing him and hesitantly pressing my lips to his. Fireworks, electricity, and explosive tingles fire through my system at the contact. His lips feel warm and soft and perfect against mine, and that’s when I realise how rigid his body has become. He lets out a sound that’s halfway between a groan and a growl before moving away. His mouth goes to my forehead, where he presses a soft, momentary kiss, and then he’s gone.
As though my body is just as eager to escape the humiliation as my brain is, I fall asleep almost immediately.
Fourteen
When I wake up, it’s just past seven and my mouth is dry. I must have only slept for about three hours. Ugh, why don’t hangovers ever just let you sleep? My eyes feel like they’re bruised, and my muscles ache. All I want to do is stay in bed, so I burrow further under the covers and snuggle into my pillow. Unfortunately, I’m too thirsty to go back asleep, so I decide to go downstairs and grab some water.
It’s just as I’m crawling out of bed that I remember what I did last night. I tried to kiss Jay, and he gave me the platonic forehead kiss before awkwardly leaving the room. I’ve seen enough rom coms in my time to know what the platonic forehead kiss means.
Feeling a sudden urge to work off the embarrassment, I pull my hair up into a knot on top of my head, put on my exercise gear, and decide to go for a cycle. Thankfully, Jay’s still sleeping, so I manage to grab some water and get my bike out of the shed without bumping into him.
It’s a beautiful July morning when I step outside, the birds singing and the sun shining. I can tell we’re in for a hot day, and already I feel slightly better about myself. Everybody does embarrassing stuff when they’re drunk. It doesn’t mean anything.
I pedal fast, gliding down the road. The place where I live can be kind of beautiful sometimes; there’s a long stretch of road that runs along the coast from right outside my house for miles all the way to Howth, a small seaside town about a twenty-minute car ride outside the city. I cycle all the way there and back again, my entire body dripping with sweat by the time I get home.
As I walk into the house, I hear Jay cooking up a storm in the kitchen. In an effort to avoid him, I sneak back out and go around the side of the house to leave my bike in the shed. He must see me through the window, because he opens the sliding doors and steps out.
“Matilda, I’m making all the best hangover foods for you. I hope you’re hungry.”
I take a deep breath, shutting the door of the shed and turning around. He comes toward me, taking in my cycling gear and my sweaty, hung-over self. I wonder what I look like to him right now.
“Morning,” he says simply.
“Morning.” I move to walk by him, but his arm flies out, blocking me.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You seem off.”
I wipe my forehead and drink some more water from the bottle I’m holding. “I’m tired. I just cycled about twelve miles.”
Jay whistles. “Did you work it off?”
“Huh?”
“Whatever you were trying to work off,” he elaborates, reaching out and running a finger down my neck. “Sweat suits you,” he murmurs, almost absently.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, but it was a good workout. Did you say something about breakfast? I’m starving,” I prattle on, and walk around him, going inside.
He sets a plate down in front of me, and it looks delicious. My stomach rumbles at the sight. “You’re being awkward, and you need to stop it,” he tells me firmly.
“I’m not being awkward.”
“Oh, yes, you are, and I’m not having it. So you tried to kiss me last night. You were drunk, Watson. It’s fine. Everybody gets a little kissy when they’ve had a few.” He winks.
“Yeah, well, I apologise for getting kissy,” I say, scowling, and he laughs, pulling a chair out and sitting down. My phone goes off then, vibrating with a message. I pull it out of my pocket to find it’s actually an email alert. I check it out and see that it’s from Owen, the chef. He responded to my message! My heart lifts. He wasn’t avoiding me like I thought.
A smile shapes my lips as I read what he’s written. He wants to meet up today for lunch. Oh, wow. That’s so soon. Then again, what with the current Jay situation, it’s probably the ideal distraction.
“What are you grinning like a fool for?” Jay asks as he chews.
I send Owen a quick response telling him I’ll be there and then slide the phone back in my pocket. All the while I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I can’t believe I’ve agreed to meet up with a stranger. “Uh, I just agreed to go on a date,” I reply shakily. “Today.”
Jay doesn’t say anything for a while, just silently watches me while he eats. “Is this an online thing?”
“Yeah.”
“You should let me check out his profile, make sure he’s not some creep.”
“Eh, I think I can determine if he’s a creep or not on my own. And he’s not. He’s a chef.”
“Well, la di fucking da. I still want to check him out, Matilda. He’s a stranger. It’s not safe. On second thought, why don’t I be your escort?”
I laugh out loud at that. “Okay, I’ll just ask my dad along, too, make it a big family day out,” I reply with sarcasm. “You’re not escorting me, but if you like we can exchange numbers, and I’ll call if anything goes wrong. We’re going to be in a public place, though, so even if he is weird, I can easily slip away.” I don’t bother to point out that Jay was a stranger to me not too long ago. In fact, I still don’t know that much about him.
“Fine, give me your phone,” he says, holding his hand out for it. I hand it to him, and he pulls his own out. As he programmes his number in, I carry on eating my breakfast. He’s taking a little long, though, and when he gets this smug look on his face I know he’s snooping.
“Give me my phone back now, Jay,” I say, reaching across the table. I swipe for the phone, but he holds it out of my reach.
“This guy is a complete douche, Watson. He talks to you like he’s trying to arrange a business transaction.”
I jump out of my seat now, determined to get my phone back. I grab it, but he pulls on it, swinging his arm around, and I go flying, landing smack bang on his lap. “Give it back, Jay. You’re being invasive,” I plead, getting upset. I really don’t like him reading my messages. It was funny at first, but now it feels like he’s laughing at me.
Frowning, he hands me the phone, and I swiftly jump out of his lap.
“I actually find him very gentlemanly compared to most of the perverts who’ve written to me,” I sniff. The hangover has me extra emotional. “And just because some of us find it more difficult than others to meet someone, it doesn’t mean you have to go making fun.”
Jay leans across the table, taking my hand in his. “Hey, I was only joking around.” His thumb rubs over the inside of my wrist, and I pull away. The contact makes me feel too much.
“Whatever. You were being mean, and you know it.”
“That wasn’t my intention, but I’m sorry all the same. God, you’re too fucking cute, aren’t you?” His voice is low, making something stir deep in my belly.
“Stop trying to console me with fake compliments.”
“You’re cute, Matilda. Real fucking cute. Now, can we backtrack a second? Who says I don’t find it just as difficult to meet people as you do?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. I doubt you’ve ever gone through a dry spell in your life.”
“Just because women approach me a lot doesn’t mean I always go for them. We all find it hard to meet someone who fits us. If you hadn’t guessed from my occupation, I’m not exactly normal.”
I stare at him, surprised by how he just opened up. He’s getting serious now, and it’s making me feel weird. I want to go and give him a hug and make friends, but I don’t have the courage. Instead, I glance at my watch and make like I need to go get ready.