Even under his knit cap, I can see his forehead wrinkle. I don’t think so. I change and hopefully grow, so the kind of person I’m attracted to probably evolves too.
Wait, so does this mean that in the Pokémon universe of girlfriends, I’m the more evolved version of Lana? That doesn’t seem believable. Ugh, maybe I’ll have to be more specific. That’s what Mats likes anyway.
He watches my mental gymnastics with concern. Actually, I do like blondes, he offers.
This tiny fact cheers me up. Really? Because I’m a natural blonde, you know? I hold up one of my pigtails as proof.
He chuckles. I’m aware. Do you think guys are so clueless that they don’t notice when their girlfriend goes to a salon for hours and comes back with a new hair colour?
By salon, do you mean when Woolly trims my hair in the kitchen?
Mats’s deep laugh echoes in the cool evening air. Making him laugh is one of my favourite things. I wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze. He hugs me back, and being enveloped by his strong arms feels like safety.
When we resume walking, I apologize for acting so weird. I’m so sorry, that interview with Lana today threw me off balance.
Ah. Mats’s expression tightens, and I worry that I’ve offended him.
Really, I’m not normally the jealous girlfriend type. You don’t have to worry.
Cleo, I don’t like to speak badly of about ex-girlfriends, he begins cautiously.
It’s fine with me, I joke.
But he remains serious. I’m just going to say one thing: I feel like I can be myself with you. That you like me exactly as I am.
How very Mats of him. Diplomatically, he doesn’t say one bad thing about Lana, but I can read between the lines. She wanted him to be different. Maybe a super-polished Roy to partner with her glossy self? Well, her loss, because authentic Mats is the very best boyfriend.
I hug him again, and this time we kiss. Just a gentle brush of our lips that reminds me of our very first kiss. Then we head back to my place.
I loop my arm through his. Did you know that those roses are the first flowers I’ve gotten from a guy?
Mats nods proudly. Of course. You told me that night we went for Chinese food.
Well, I love them. Roses are so romantic.
I’m glad you like them. I went to the florist to pick them out. Even in the dim light, I can tell that he’s blushing.
What is it? Oh, shit, do they have some special flower meaning? I don’t know any of that stuff. But I’m sure that pink isn’t the hat trick rose.
He bites his bottom lip and, for a moment, I wonder if he’s going to tell. Then he whispers into my ear, They’re the exact colour of your nipples.
I laugh loudly and shove him. Mats, you pervert.
But his fixation on with my nipples is a turn-on. I give him a little hip check. Maybe we should double-check. You know, match them up in real life.
He grins. Maybe we should.
But by the time we get home, my roommates have organized a shooting accuracy contest in our long hallway. Woolly has set up targets, and Becks has a leaderboard on the wall. We get sucked into playing. Soon, Mats is in the midst of my crazy friends, all of us cheering on great shots and groaning at near-misses. He’s laughing and joking and enjoying himself.
He fits so perfectly into my life.
19
HITS THE FAN
CLEO
THE BUZZ OF MY PHONE WAKES ME.
