In fact, the laughter she shared with Matt, the light touches and the increasingly long meaningful looks – she could feel her tummy flip just thinking about them – were becoming increasingly flirtatious, and somehow, somehow, she needed to bring Angelina into the conversation. Not that she particularly wanted to talk about the nasty, perfectly plastic, dog-kicking woman, but she did have to remind Matt of his responsibilities and that she really wasn’t that sort of girl. She would never, ever even countenance starting something with a man in a relationship, never! She needed to make it clear this was a friendship only thing, and why. She would wait until he came back in from the pantry where he had snuck off to and bring it up then.
But what on earth would she say? How does one tell one’s secret crush that they are not harbouring any intention of sleeping with them because a) he has a girlfriend, and b) Rosy herself had a whole baggage-trolley-full of seemingly unresolvable issues? She could hear Lynne’s voice saying, ‘Yup, just like that’, but there was no way in the world Rosy was going to say that. She was all for speaking the truth, but there were degrees.
Maybe she’d just sit here and let the conversation arise organically. Yes, organically, and then the right words would find themselves at the time. That was probably the spiritually awakened way of doing things. Harmony would be proud. She hadn’t realized that she was spiritually awakened but obviously that’s exactly what she was. That was good. That would help.
‘Close your eyes, one… two… three,’ came Matt’s command from behind the pantry door. She loved this sort of thing so she did exactly that, clapped her hands excitedly, spun around at speed on her chair, and promptly fell off. Bloody typical.
Matt had been holding two glasses of a beautiful-looking cocktail, inviting and layered with colour. However these were abandoned on the counter as he raced over in two big steps to extend his hand and pull her back up from the floor.
‘Oh my goodness, are you OK? You’re such a fool!’
‘Such a fool!’ she retorted, holding firm to his hand and allowing herself to be pulled up.
‘Yes! You were swinging on that chair like a child.’
‘I like it. I do it at work too.’ Rosy was standing as close as close could be now she had regained her balance. They were still holding hands and she couldn’t resist the urge to stick her tongue out, just very quickly, at him.
‘I like that you like it.’
The mood suddenly changed. It was as sudden as a clap of thunder. Rosy stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with her hand, apart from praying that it didn’t become too clammy, staring at Matt with big eyes. There was no way to mistake this. The sexual chemistry here was even more charged than her first kiss with Ben James in the upper fourth by the bins. And that was a kiss that changed her from girl to woman. Even more intense than her first meeting with Josh at uni, and she hadn’t thought that was possible. Good God, she couldn’t move. She gulped and wondered what the hell was going on in Matt’s head right now.
His eyes hadn’t left her face. He didn’t seem to be having doubts about sweaty palms or teenage passion. He was just smiling that smile and coming closer and, oh my, she had to stop this, but oh my God, his lips were so close and—
Music blasted out, making Scramble, who was curled in his basket, jerk awake. Rosy used it, and buckets of self will, to take a step back and put some distance between her and Matt. Phew. That was close. The music stopped and then started again. Matt pushed his hand through his hair and looked a little flustered. Or embarrassed. Rosy couldn’t tell which but it was definitely one or the other. Maybe a mix of the two.
‘I’d better get that.’ He turned and picked up his phone from the top of the bread bin where it was singing and vibrating with the energy and determination of a toddler.
‘What? Yes, I know… right, calm down, I can hardly hear you… hang on a minute…’
He turned and shrugged at Rosy, no less attractive than he was thirty seconds ago but a little more hassled-looking. ‘I’m sorry, let me just deal with this, don’t forget your drink…’ He nodded at the cocktail on the side, which seemed somehow to have lost its charm, and then wandered into the next room.
Despite the distance between the two rooms, more symbolic than actual, Rosy could clearly hear the gist of the conversation. Even though she couldn’t hear Angelina’s words, the muffled female screeching on the other end indicated one very upset woman.
‘Ange, yes, I can tell how upset you are… yes I know it’s Valentine’s Day next week, of course I do… I don’t really see… right, OK! OK, I’ll get the train up as soon as I can…’
Rosy didn’t need to hear any more. What the hell was she doing here? How could she? For all her faux morality, all her so-called rules, she knew how badly she had wanted to kiss him just then. Would she have done so had his phone not rung? Had his girlfriend – distressed girlfriend – not rung?
She knocked back the cocktail on the side. After all, she wasn’t a complete idiot; she was going to need that to get her through the rest of the day. Cutting blooming hearts out. And possibly ignoring the front door and developing a stronger moral backbone. Oh hell, maybe they’d move soon. Drink drunk, she sneaked out of the front door, ever so quietly but not quite tippy-toes, and headed back to her spinster-like home, leaving Matt trying to calm down the (maybe rightfully) overwrought Angelina.
Chapter Twelve
Matt heard the door creak shut and let out a sigh before continuing to talk to his sister. He couldn’t blame Rosy for leaving. Angelina’s voice could sometimes make him want to do the same, and she certainly wouldn’t be the first woman his sister had scared off. But he thought Rosy had more to her than to take fright over a phone call. Unless it was him. That might make more sense. He had assumed she felt as he did – all the vibes had been pointing that way – but what if he had read the situation wrong? What if she was being neighbourly and he had come on too strong? Oh God, in that case he owed her an apology. But if she had felt so strongly she had to flee, maybe chasing after her would only make things worse.
‘Matt!’ His sister barked down the phone at him with that innate skill she had for knowing when he wasn’t giving her his full attention. Right. He’d deal with one thing at a time.
‘Look, Ange, I’ve said I understand that you’re upset and that it’s Valentine’s Day soon and that you feel your life is in pieces, and I’ve said I’ll come and visit as soon as I can but I’m in the middle of something and, quite frankly, what more do you want from me?’
‘I want you to come and look after me. What do you mean in the middle of something? Well, you just get back to something and leave me here all alone, broken and alone. I don’t think’ – sob – ‘you appreciate’ – sob, hiccup – ‘quite how much I loved this one.’
Matt resisted all temptation to ask if it was as much as the last one, who also had been her soulmate, love of her life and spiritual twin. He went for a non-committal noise instead. He wished Rosy hadn’t left.
‘What’s that supposed to mean? I need some support here, Mattie.’
‘Look, Ange, have you tried ringing that friend of yours, you know, the one you met in group counselling last time?’
‘She’s not here, is she. She’s never here, she’s in Thailand or some place having a lovely time. She’s not had her heart twisted out of her chest and stomped on…’ Angelina changed her tone from desperate hyperventilating and sobbing and went for wheedling instead. ‘Please, Matt, you’re all I’ve got and I’m scared. Please…’ She paused. Angelina had always known how to get him and it would seem today was no exception.
‘OK, OK, I’ll get the train up.’
