“Yes.”
“Then I’ll make it after I’ve put Jack to bed. As long as you don’t mind eating a little later.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, watching as he pulled out a box of arborio rice. “I can’t remember the last time I had risotto, so I’m happy to wait. As long as you’re happy to make it.”
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” he said casually, like it was no big deal to whip up something like a risotto on a Tuesday night. Maybe to him it wasn’t, but I was still astounded he would go to all that effort for me.
“If it helps, I can give Jack a bath. Not that I’m rushing you. I’m just trying to make your life easier.”
“It’s fine. You’re off the clock,” he said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to get drenched from fish rescue.”
I laughed softly as I leant against the counter to watch him. “I mean, I do need to have a shower tonight. And I’ve got some washing to do, so I guess that would be a pre-wash.”
“As long as you don’t mind smelling like bubblegum bubble bath.”
“At least it doesn’t have glitter in. At one of my previous jobs, one of the kids loved this bubble bath that had a body shimmer or something mixed in. Everyone came out looking like they’d been dipped in glitter.”
“No glitter! That’s a rule. I’m not cleaning it up.” Matty winced as he leant against the counter opposite me, the two of us at a slight diagonal to each other. Close enough to touch, but far enough away that it felt polite… normal… the way things should be. If I moved my foot a couple of inches, though…
No, I wasn’t going there. This was getting out of control and I needed to get a handle on myself.
This coming weekend I was going to take Marissa’s advice and find someone to hook up with, just to take the edge off.
I didn’t want anyone else, though. The hottest man in the world could turn up at the door and I’d say no. Unless it was Matty, then my answer would be very different.
Which was the entire damn problem.
“Okay,” I said, swallowing as I looked at the way his body was stretched out. “No glitter.”
Matty looked at me for a long second, his eyes casually rolling down my body. “Would you like a drink? I’ve got some white wine in the fridge, or some beer.”
“Oh, I don’t drink. I probably should have mentioned that when you asked about things I don’t eat, but thanks for the offer.”
“Shit, sorry. Are you… do you not want me to have it in the house? Is it a taste thing? An allergy? Do you need me to leave it out of the risotto?”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I held out my hands because he’d startled and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “It’s partially a taste thing and partially a not-interested thing. I tried it when I was at uni, did a few nights out getting wasted, but I never really liked it. And I’ve always had more fun when I’m sober, plus I can remember everything, and if there’s an emergency, I can take care of people. But it’s fine if you want to put some in the risotto. Using it in cooking doesn’t bother me. I just won’t ever choose to have a glass of wine or a beer.”
“That’s fine. Thanks for telling me.”
“Thanks for being so nice about it,” I said, giving him an appreciative smile.
He sighed. “I’d ask if people were dicks about it, but I’m not that naive. It’s why we instituted a no-pressure rule in the dressing room, because I know rugby has a big drinking culture and I don’t want anyone on the team to feel like they have to get shitfaced with us. So if someone gets caught trying to pressure someone into drinking or whatever, even on a night out, they’re getting fined.”
“That’s… unusual?” I didn’t really know enough about rugby to comment but it sounded unusual based on my limited experience of the sports societies at uni. The rugby lads inparticular had definitely had a bad reputation, and I had a vague memory of the society being dissolved in my third year due to the drunken destruction of a hotel ballroom. Something like that anyway.
“A bit. Most of them won’t drink a lot during the week anyway since we’re professional athletes and have to deal with everything that comes with that. But after matches, especially critical wins, it can get a bit messy. Which is absolutely fine. I just don’t want anyone to feel like they have to join in.”
“So, how long have you been captain?” I asked with a teasing smile. He’d not mentioned it, but it was so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised it before.
“Three years.”
“I knew it!”
“How?”
“You said you don’t want anyone to feel pressure, so obviously you had a say in the decision, maybe were even the driving force behind it,” I said. “And… well, you’re bossy as heck but you care deeply about the people around you. So, captain, but clearly a long-term one because you seem pretty comfortable with the responsibility. Even though I’m guessing the pressure really gets to you sometimes, and it can be pretty trying at times.”
Matty stared at me, his mouth half-open like he wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or impressed. Maybe a little of both. “Half of being a nanny is being really good with people,” I said, slightly sheepishly.
