Page 99 of Unloved

Whatever I’ve said shuts his entire body down, like pressing an off switch. Muted fury flutters across his face before he shudders, letting out a heavy breath and nods to me.

“If you click your heels three times, do you think you’ll end up in your dorm or Fredderic’s bed?” he says with a snarky smirk before grabbing his mask and sliding it back on, gripping his shirt in the other hand and storming out.

CHAPTER 36Ro

There’s a Ninja Turtle dancing his way to me—so perfectly timed to the eerie beat of The Weeknd’s “Gasoline” that it feels like a fever dream version of my first time seeing him freshman year.

I’ve never asked Matt if he remembers that we met once before. That I waited for him for hours and then days and then weeks three years ago. I don’t think I could handle it if he says he does remember, or that he doesn’t—there’s no good answer.

I shake my head with a simpering smile at the painted-green shirtless body of Matt Fredderic as he shimmies playfully around me.

“Hey, Rosalie,” he breathes in my ear when he’s close enough.

“Hey, Matty.”

He grabs me in a tight hug that makes me squeal and jerk back to check that his green body paint hasn’t transferred to me.

“C’mon, princess,” he says, playing with the end of my pigtail. “You know I’d never mess up your cute outfit. You worked so hard on it.”

A smile pulls at my mouth as I examine him.

The green and yellow paint across his face, neck, torso, and arms looks messy, like whoever did it had to battle a constantly fidgeting and distracted Freddy. I imagine even-keeled Bennett giving up midway through, which explains why most of his arms are patchy, barely painted. A purple mask with roughly cut eyeholes is tiedtightly around his head, fluffing his golden locks around it in a handsomely disheveled way—as is usual for Freddy.

“Which Ninja Turtle are you supposed to be?”

He smacks a hand to his chest. “I’m insulted that you don’t know this.”

“Only child who didn’t watch the show or movies,” I say with a shrug.

“Yeah? Too busy with Beethoven for Babies? Or movies to improve your child’s IQ, my little brainiac?”

My face is on fire. I giggle and nod, feeling warm from the two drinks I’ve had. Not even tipsy, but completely drunk on his presence. It’s almost too easy to bask in the warmth thatisMatt.

It would be so easy to love him, I think.

I barely manage to bite back the comment, grabbing his hand and jerking him closer to me.

“Dance with me?” I ask.

He smiles and touches his nose to mine. “Always.”

He pulls back and gulps down his full beer in a way that has my eyes tracking his Adam’s apple, mouthwatering as he swallows.

Matt takes my hand and spins me. I drag him a little closer, very aware that I’m playing with fire. But I don’t care.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers into my ear before darting back to give me a light, dopey smile that’s all softness and zero flirt.

My chest aches as I circle my arms around his neck and pull him closer. He smells like whiskey and body paint, and he feels dangerously like mine.

Matt Fredderic is a dopey drunk.

Eyes glazed from the shots we took—especially the ones he took in my stead when I wanted to stop drinking for the night, while the group wanted to keep playing whatever game we were on.

He laughed and joked with his teammates, but always made sure I felt included in it all. Freddy never makes anyone feel like an outsider, I’m realizing. He’s kind with everyone. He’s attractive, physically, yes, but he’s truly attractive because of how he treats those around him.

Bennett drove us to the Hockey House, offering me a ride to the dorms from there, which sparked a very quick argument from sleepy Matt in the back, who tucked his arms around me over the seat. The goalie shook his head but offered to help us inside. He looked antsy, so I assured him I’d be fine getting Freddy in on my own.

Which is proving harder than I thought.

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