Chapter 26 Friday
Friday
(Five Days Left)
“I can’t believe you’re getting fucked tonight and I’m not going to be there to see it,” Nora whines from my passenger seat.
As luck would have it, Matthew lands just about an hour after Nora needs to be at the airport for her flight.
It worked out perfectly for me to take her.
“I’ve waited my whole life for this and I’m missing it by a few hours. ”
“First of all, no one said anything about getting fucked tonight.” I do my best to keep my eyes on the road while fighting the urge to give her a look. “Secondly, you wouldn’t be there to see it even if you were within the Los Angeles city limits.”
“Really?” she asks earnestly. “I’ve always pictured myself in the room.”
“Why would you be in the room?”
She shrugs. “That’s just how I’ve always pictured it.”
“Well, stop picturing it.”
“I can’t!” she exclaims. “Have you talked about where he’s sleeping?”
“Not yet,” I reply. “But I assume in my bed? It’s not like I’m going to make him sleep on the couch. And I want to sleep next to him, assuming he wants to sleep next to me.”
Nora throws her head forward onto the dashboard. “Of course he wants to sleep in your bed, Phoebe! He’s flying across the country to see you. He wants to do a whole lot more than sleep.”
“He hasn’t even kissed me yet.”
“What’s he waiting for?”
“I think he’s nervous,” I tell her. “Especially considering the disaster that was the last time we almost kissed.”
“You guys really are perfect for each other,” she declares. “When you’re having a freak-out, he’s all calm, cool, and collected, and now he’s being weird and you’re the chillest I’ve ever seen you. It’s awesome.”
“It is awesome,” I agree.
Nora hops right out of the car the second we pull up to the airport. Knowing her, after yesterday’s emotional goodbye, she’s anxious to make this one as quick and painless as possible. I put the car in park and get out to help her with her things.
“I love you.” I throw my arms around her. She holds on to me tightly, telling me everything I need to know all while not saying a word.
“Call me as soon as you finish.” Those are the only words she says to me before turning around and walking into the terminal.
It’s not until I start driving away that I understand what she meant.
I’ll miss her so much.
—
I see him before he sees me.
Matthew’s bouncing up and down on one foot, nervously scanning the sea of cars fighting to merge in and out of the pick-up lane as they collect their passengers.
He looks adorable with his hands in the pockets of his sweats, a duffel bag draped across his chest, and his hair peeking out from the bottom of a baseball cap.
It’s all I can do not to leave my car in the middle of five lanes and run to him.
I maneuver as quickly and as close to the curb as I can before throwing my door open and rushing toward him.
“Hey, you!” I throw myself into his side and wrap my arms around him. I feel him startle. “Sorry.” I smirk, tilting my head upward to meet his eyes. They’re creased around the edges from smiling.
He quickly removes his hands from his pockets, untangling my arms from him for a second before pulling me back in. His hands bury themselves in the mess of my hair while he leans down and presses his cheek to the top of my head. “Hey, you,” he whispers.
I can feel my heartbeat at the base of my stomach. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.
A chorus of car horns distracts me from the heat rippling through my core, and I turn my head toward the source of the chaos. An empty car with its door open has started to slowly roll backward into the onslaught of parked cars and oncoming traffic.
“Oh no,” I whisper. I’ve become paralyzed.
Matthew’s grip around me loosens. “Is that yours?”
I think I nod.
He springs into action, reaching my car in just a few long strides and throwing it into park in the nick of time.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Sorry!” He waves apologetically to the line of cars my Jetta almost took out.
I keep my eyes glued to the ground as I make my way over to him. “I swear that hasn’t happened before.”
I can tell he’s doing his best to suppress a grin. “Want me to drive?” he offers.
I’m still a little shaky from the adrenaline, and the honking of another horn makes me jump.
“Maybe.”
He slips into the driver’s seat without another word, throwing his bag into the back and adjusting the seat to accommodate his long legs.
“I’m usually a really good driver,” I tell him as we pull out of the airport, loading up the directions on my phone to our official first-date spot. “I got too excited.”
“I’m sure I would have done the same thing,” he assures me.
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
“Probably not,” he agrees, finally letting himself smile at me. I would be embarrassed if it were anyone else.
“Well?” He gives me an expectant look out of the corner of his eye while I watch him intently.
Everything about him driving my car turns me on.
The way he grips the steering wheel with one hand, the way his arms flex slightly whenever he makes a turn, the way he merges from lane to lane effortlessly.
I close my legs together tightly, worried that he’ll somehow be able to sense what he’s doing to me.
“Well what?” I ask, forcing myself to ignore the ache between my thighs.
“Your interview!” he exclaims excitedly. “How was it?”
“Oh!” Between the excitement of dropping Nora off and picking Matthew up, I had completely forgotten about my interview with Dan earlier today. Matthew had been helping me prep for it all week over FaceTime.
“It was good! I got offered the job.”
“Phoebe!” He reaches over the center console and wraps his hand around the nape of my neck. I suck in a sharp breath. “That’s incredible,” he says. “You’re incredible.”
I close my eyes and brace myself for his disappointment. “I didn’t take it.”
He runs his thumb along my neck and I open my eyes to find him biting his lip, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“You’re mad.”
“Of course not.” He shakes his head. “I feel guilty.”
“What? Why would you feel guilty?”
He removes his hand from my neck to scratch his own. I want to reach out and snatch it back. “I’m a bad person.”
“You’re the best person.”
“I could tell that you didn’t want that job. I think I just encouraged you to take the interview so that maybe you’d keep coming to me for advice. Advice that I’m not at all qualified to be giving, by the way.”
I give in to my impulses and grab his hand, holding it tightly on my lap. “Do you think I’m innocent? Why do you think I was going to you for advice?”
He laughs, and I watch the muscles in his jaw twitch as they loosen with relief. I want to lean over and lick his jawline.
What is happening to me?
I spend the rest of the drive facing forward with my legs crossed, trying my best not to look directly at him.
—
I’ve made Matthew try every food stand the Santa Monica Pier has to offer. So far we’ve split a bucket of popcorn, sour apple cotton candy, a fried Oreo milkshake, and a jalapeno corn dog. Everything was extremely gross and perfect at the same time.
“Are you sure this is a good idea after everything we ate?” he asks. We’re standing in line for the pier’s only roller coaster, if you can even call it that.
“I’m positive,” I tell him. “It’s for kids. Look.” I point to the sign hanging from the fence alongside the ride. “You only have to be thirty-six inches to ride. That’s, like, very tiny. And it’s about thirty seconds from start to finish.”
“I’m not asking for me.” He takes a bite of our corn dog before offering it to me. “You’re the one with the weak stomach,” he says with a smirk.
I feign offense. “Wow, I never expected you to use that against me.” I start walking away from him. “Let’s go. I’m taking you back to the airport.”
“No!” He pulls me back by my arm, spinning me into his chest. “I’ll be good.” I feel his chest rise and fall as he looks down at me through his eyelashes and my heart begins to race.
He blinks.
I blink.
He licks his bottom lip.
I bite mine.
He lifts his hand to my cheek and—
“Teacher Phoebe?” I turn sharply toward the voice at my left, jumping back from Matthew on instinct.
Danny and his mom are walking toward us, his mom with an apologetic gleam in her eye.
“Hi, Danny!” I crouch down and give him a hug. “What a fun surprise!”
I have never been less excited to see one of my students before.
He squints as he looks back and forth between me and Matthew. “Where’s Teacher Finn?” he asks.
“I’m not sure what Teacher Finn is doing tonight.” I shrug. “We can ask him about his weekend on Monday.”
“But who is that?” He points directly at Matthew, who offers an awkward wave in response.
“That’s Matthew,” I tell him.
This doesn’t seem to clear anything up for Danny, but his mom cuts him off before he can ask another question.
“Give Teacher Phoebe a hug goodbye,” she tells him. “We’ll see her at school next week.”
As they walk away, I can faintly hear Danny continue his line of questioning while his mom tries to distract him with cotton candy.
I raise myself up from my crouched position and hurry back over to Matthew, anxious to continue what we started.
“That was really cute.” He smiles, but his expression turns into something unreadable as he leans back against the fence. “Who’s Finn?” he asks, shrugging as he takes another bite of the corn dog.
Danny has completely killed the mood.
“Finn is the fourth-grade teacher,” I tell him. “We spend a lot of time with their class.”
“I get the sense that Danny thinks you two are a package deal.”
“Yeah, well,” I sigh. “Danny is five years old and also thinks that one plus one is eleven.” I smile softly at Matthew. “I promise you, there is absolutely nothing to worry about there.”
“I’m not worried.” He reaches his hands out for mine. “Just insanely jealous that someone else gets to spend that much time with you.”