36. Goldie
Chapter 36
Goldie
I ROLL OVER and cover my head with the pillow, drowning out the incessant construction that seems to be happening outside my house.
Thump thump thump
“Goldie!”
I pull the pillow off. Is that someone?—?
“Goldie Dash, you answer your door this instant!”
I sigh. Agatha better have a real good reason for waking me up. I was having an incredible dream. Matty’s head was between my thighs…
“Goldie! Hurry !”
“One second!” I call, getting up and shoving my feet into my slippers, then donning my glasses and grabbing my phone out of habit. I squint at the screen.
Is that…thirty notifications?
What is going on?
I speed up, racing to the door and flinging it open.
“Goldie!” Agatha’s waves The Lucky Daily at me.
“Ahh! What?!” I wield my phone like it’s a magic sword, ready to take down my enemy.
“You’re going to be late !” she yells, then heaves herself over the threshold and shoves me to the side as she goes. “Get dressed!”
“What is happening?” I yell back. “Why are you yelling?”
She waves the paper once more and keeps walking to my bedroom. “Go online to The Lucky Daily website. Who sleeps this late?”
“I had a late night,” I whine, but she’s out of sight and shouting at me to hurry up.
Unlocking my phone, I ignore the notifications and go straight to the paper’s website.
“Holy crap.” I stop mid-stride, gaping at the screen.
Matthew James Brodigan filmed a freaking thirst trap.
He’s shirtless and sweaty, walking toward the camera with a damn horse, wearing that hot-as-sin cowboy hat and jeans that were made for him…
And it’s in slow motion.
“Oh my God.”
I watch it again.
I might be drooling.
“What are you doing ?” Agatha appears in front of me.
I startle, nearly dropping the phone but fumbling it and getting it upright just in time to watch the video again. “Matty. He made a?—”
“You’re going to be late to meet Matty if you don’t come on !” She grabs my free hand and yanks me to the bedroom. “Get dressed.”
“I’m still not sure what’s going on.”
She rolls her eyes and shoves the print copy of the paper at me. “You have three minutes, missy, and not a second more.”
Immediately my eyes snag on the pictures of Matty—more shirtless, gorgeous pictures—but then I see the headline: Is True Love Really Blind?
“What is this?” I mutter, skimming the initial paragraphs. Then I get to Matty’s words and suck in a breath. “Agatha.” I shoot my hand out and grab her shoulder.
“Told you,” she sniffs.
“I love you. I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you for being so stupid. I have more to say, but I’d rather say it in person. So here goes: If you’re willing to give me a chance, then meet me tomorrow at ten a.m. at the clock in town square.”
I look at the time. “Oh my God!”
“ Now you’re catching on.”
“It’s nine fifty-eight! Agatha! Agatha!” I turn in circles, unsure what to do. “I go, right?”
“Of course you go! Get dressed!”
My body flushes with heat. “You keep saying that! I don’t have time!”
“Yes you do! Hurry!”
Without thought, I haul myself to the dresser and throw on a skirt, then a shirt. “I need to brush my teeth!” I push past Agatha. “Shoes are in my closet!”
“On it!” she replies. “Keys?”
“Bowl by the door!” I shove the toothbrush in, give my teeth maybe five seconds, swish, toss another blob of toothpaste onto my tongue for good measure, then run out. I shove my feet into the shoes Agatha’s set out—not at all what I would have picked, but whatever—and grab the Jeep’s keys from her hand.
“I’ll lock up. Go! ”
But I pause for one precious moment, taking her in, trying to wrap my head around what’s happening. “Thank you,” I say, leaning to give her a hug.
She lets me hug her for all of two seconds before shoving me toward the door with a smile. “Get out of here! Go get your guy.”
I take off running.