Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
MATTHEW
Five years ago
I run my fingers through my hair for what feels like the hundredth time as I stare at the equation as if the answer will appear in my notebook on its own.
Yeah, right. Because that’s just my luck.
I itch to pull out a cigarette and light it up, but since that’s not an option, I tug at my strands, fighting the feeling of panic rising inside me again.
I can’t fuck this up.
I can’t lose football.
It’s the only fucking thing that keeps me grounded when I’m walking on the edge.
But I know there’s no way Coach will let me play. Not if I don’t get my grades up.
That leaves me with only one solution.
The solution I didn’t even want to think about.
Soft laughter has the hair at my nape prickling.
I look up, following the sound as I scan the space until my gaze lands on her.
My angel.
If somebody heard me, they’d have a good laugh at my expense, but to me that’s what she is.
A freaking angel.
I watch her as she whispers to her friends, all of them with books open in front of them. Today, her golden hair is tied in a thick braid that falls over one of her shoulders, but it’s like even in the dim library some of the light has found its way to reflect over it, making it shine brightly.
One of the girls hands her a notebook, her gaze taking in whatever is written down before turning it around and pointing something out.
That’s when it clicks.
Holy shit.
I’m such an idiot.
My heart is beating wildly as I continue observing them. It seems like forever before the group finally gathers their stuff and leaves, but not her.
She leaves her things on the desk and goes toward a row of books, so I follow her.
She scans the shelves until she finds what she’s looking for and then turns around, almost slamming into me.
“Shit, you scared me!”
I quirk my brow at that. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Trouble.”
“Wh-what?” Color rises on her cheeks, but still, she lifts her chin stubbornly.
“Nothing. I just pinned you down as a good girl.”
“And good girls don’t say ‘shit’?” She rolls her eyes and starts walking around me, but I get in her way. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to tutor me.”
Her brows pull together. “I don’t tutor, but I’m sure if you asked at the—”
I’m shaking my head before she can even finish. “It has to be you.”
She chuckles softly. “Well, it can’t be me.”
“You were just helping out those girls.”
Her eyes round at the revelation that I’ve been watching her, but she quickly snaps out of it. “Because we’re in the same class, and it’s homework we’re all working on.”
“Which means you get it,” I point out, sighing. “Please? If I don’t pass this exam, I’m screwed.”
Her lips part, and I can see the rejection is on the tip of her tongue.
Dammit.
“Fine.”
I look up, her words throwing me completely off guard. “Fine?”
“I’ll do it.” Her tongue darts out, sliding over her lower lip. “But there have to be rules.”
Now
I pull out my phone, checking the screen for what feels like a hundredth time since last night, but there are no new notifications waiting for me.
Shocker.
For somebody who insisted on having rules, she isn’t in a hurry to share them with me.
Is she already backing out?
I wouldn’t be surprised.
The whole idea is crazy, and yet…
Matthew:
So? Where are those rules you mentioned?
I hit send before I can question myself on why I suddenly want this so much, and stare at the screen, as if the message will appear if I wish hard enough.
C’mon, Trouble.
“Why have you been scowling like that all morning?”
I look up to find Nico giving me a curious look, so I quickly lock my phone. “No reason.”
He shifts his attention to my hand before his narrowed gaze returns to my face. “Mhmm… No reason, my ass. You’ve been checking that thing every five minutes. Either you’re waiting on a woman to message you or you’re looking for a new job. Which one is it?”
“Neither,” I lie, holding his gaze.
I’m not sure how he’ll react when he finds out about this. I don’t think this is quite what he had in mind when he brought up the whole dating thing other night, but, hey, I was never one to follow rules, something Jessica should be very familiar with, and yet we’re back where it all started.
He opens his mouth to call me out on it but doesn’t get a chance to do it because Jenkins barks from the office, “Rivera!”
The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk. “What did you do now?”
“Fuck off, Williams.”
Nico’s foot connects with my shin before he pushes off my desk.
“You think that’s an insult?” I scoff. “Gladly.”
He flips me off, which makes me chuckle harder as he steps into Jenkins’s office. As long as it’s not me, you won’t hear me complain.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop the damn thing in surprise. My smile falls as I look at the lit screen, my stomach squeezing tightly with nerves when I spot the name on top of my notifications.
So, she does know how to use the damn thing, good.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I just stare at the screen.
Seriously, dude? Just suck it up already.
Slowly, I unlock my phone and open her message.
Trouble:
I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget something!
I snort at the words.
Typical Jessica Richards.
Matthew:
Let’s hear it, then.
The little dots appear on the screen, but they quickly disappear, only to appear again.
Trouble:
Two months.
Two months? Is she crazy? We’ll barely be able to sell that we’re seeing each other in two months. Nobody will believe we’re serious if we break it off that quickly.
Matthew:
Five months.
Trouble:
Two months.
Matthew:
That won’t change shit, and you know it.
Four.
Trouble:
Three.
My final offer.
I run my hand over my face, cursing under my breath.
Matthew:
Fine.
But I want weekly dates.
This all means nothing if people don’t see us together.
For a moment she doesn’t say anything. I hold my breath, waiting for her protest, but it doesn’t come.
Trouble:
I guess that’s fair.
No meeting family, though.
I don’t want them getting hurt in the process.
Matthew:
You know my family, so that might be a bit of a problem...
Trouble:
Matthew, I’m serious.
No meeting MY family.
Matthew:
I know you are.
Fine. I won’t drop in for Sunday dinner, then.
What else?
Those damn dots appear and disappear several times. Each time they’re gone from the screen, I can feel my palms turn sweaty with nerves. I hold my breath, unsure of what’ll come next, but at the same time, I know in my bones I probably won’t like it. Not one bit.
Trouble:
No kissing.
“The fuck?!” I push from my desk, my fingers gripping my phone. I can feel a few curious glances from my colleagues shoot my way, so I try to gather my wits before my fingers start typing away.
Matthew:
Hell to the no.
You can’t seriously tell me that you think people will believe we’re dating if they never see us showing any PDA.
Trouble:
You can hold my hand.
Matthew:
What are we? Five?
Trouble:
If they see us kissing, they’ll know we’re pretending.
Matthew:
Like hell they will.
And if you’re so worried, we can always practice.
There, let’s see her get out of this one.
Trouble:
So much for changing your ways.
Matthew:
Hey, you’re the one who insulted my kissing skills, not the other way around.
Besides, I don’t remember you complaining the last time.
I wish we were having this conversation face-to-face so I can see her expression.
I bet she’s pissed at me for bringing this one up.
It’s an asshole move, but I don’t exactly think straight when it comes to her.
Nobody has ever been able to get under my skin quite like Jessica Richards.
Even when we were teens. She saw me. The real me.
Not the bullshit I was selling to other people.
It made me feel unsteady. It made me feel vulnerable.
It made me feel, plain and simple. And back then, feeling hurt too much.
Trouble:
You’re an ass.
Matthew:
An ass who knows how to kiss.
Trouble:
You were… passable.
I was…
I suck in a long breath through my nose.
Passable? She thinks my kiss was passable? Compared to that douchebag ex of hers? My fingers itch to call her out on it, but I change my mind. I have the next three months to do that now.
Matthew:
Fine.
She starts typing, only to end just as quickly before it begins again.
Trouble:
You agree?
Matthew:
No, I don’t fucking agree.
But I’m taking it as a challenge.
Trouble:
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Matthew:
Nope. By the end of our little “arrangement” you’ll be begging me to kiss you, and maybe if I’m in the mood, I’ll oblige.
Trouble:
That won’t happen.
Matthew:
Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?
Trouble:
Fine.
Matthew:
Fine.
I press the send button a little harder than necessary, still pissed by the turn of events this whole charade has taken, and we haven’t even started it properly.
Trouble:
But no sleeping with other people.
What the actual fuck? Does she seriously think so little of me?
Trouble:
I mean it, Matthew. I don’t want to look like a fool once this whole thing is done.
Apparently, she does.
I grind my teeth in irritation.
Matthew:
I guess I’ll have to contain myself.
Trouble:
It’s just three months.
It shouldn’t be that hard.
“Seriously, dude, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”
Shit.
I was so out of it, I didn’t notice Nico return from the office.
Instead of answering his question, I tilt my head to the side. “What did the grouch want?”
Nico rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to get Sheriff on board with an idea, and while he likes it and he’s planning to suggest it to the town council, he told me not to get my hopes up since the budget is tight, and if I really want it, I’ll need to figure it out on my own.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I mutter dryly. “What idea?”
Nico wiggles his brows. “How about I show you?”