Page 20 of Kicking it with my Fake Fiancé
“It’s true,” Ingrid murmured.
“What wonderful news. Today has been a day of surprises from both my boys,andfrom their partners.”
Chapter Eleven
Jared
Bythetimethesun had started to set—is that what we called it when the sun was up nearly 24 hours a day?—I was wiped out and ready to crawl into bed. Matty and I shared a bed as we had been, which was kind of his mother to allow with grace. Increasingly, I found the line betweenfakeandfeelingswas disappearing, and visiting Matty’s family, being welcomed into the fold… well, it wasn’t helping me keep the feelings on the right side of the line.
When we woke, we weren’t cuddling, but it was awfully close, and I ducked into the shower before I could do anything I’d regret at his mom’s house. We spent the morning in Kristiansand, visiting with his family, before driving back home. Once again, we were alone except for a confessional camera that Brock and Steve had given us to record any thoughts we had on the way home.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, fixing the camera on Matty as he drove.
“Of course. Anything.”
I hesitated for a second, not wanting to sound stupid. “Why do people call you Matthias?”
He laughed. “Itismy name, you know.”
“What about Matt?”
“Short for Matthias.”
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I call you Matty. Always have. But here, nobody calls you that.”
Matty shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“Butwhy?I’m just curious.”
He sighed and looked at me quickly before turning his focus back to the road. When he spoke, it was quiet. “Matthias is more professional. More grown-up. It’s my outside face. Matty… well, that’s for people who know me best. The ones who get to see inside.”
“But…” I pressed on. “Your mom and brother call you Matthias. If they don’t get to call you Matty, who does?”
“You.”
I frowned. “Who else?”
Matty shook his head. “Nobody. Just you.”
“Oh.” His explanation ran through my head.The ones who get to see inside.Theonewas more like it, it sounded like. The thought that I was the only person allowed to call him this special nickname, and that everyoneknewit, made my chest heat. There was a fluttering sensation in my stomach. I chalked it up to exhaustion and maybe the smoked salmon. Or the cheese that they called brunost. I didn’t know, but it was probably one of the new foods that made my stomach hurt. Right?
The trip felt interminable but in the early afternoon we made it back to Drammen, where he lived, and Matty’s apartment. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, so I went to bed to sleep off the jet lag and the long trip. When I woke, it was dim in the bedroom. Matty lay asleep, his blond hair mussed, his chest rising in deep, even breaths. I had the strangest urge to touch him, to brush the hair aside and… I didn’t know what else.
I forced myself to close my eyes and try to sleep again.
When I woke again, the light was bright outside and Matty wasn’t in bed. I tossed the covers aside and got up, sleepily wandering into the kitchen.
He didn’t see me right away, focusing instead on making breakfast, but when he spotted me, a huge smile broke out over his face. “Good morning. Did you get enough sleep?”
I rubbed my eyes and yawned. “I’m feeling a little better.” When I opened my eyes again, Matty was looking at me strangely, an expression on his face I couldn’t quite pin down. It occurred to me that I was only wearing my pajama pants, no shirt, and his gaze was focused on my half-naked body. The fact that he was checking me out made my stomach lurch in a way I wasn’t used to around him. The heat built in my face and, strangely enough, my cock began to stiffen, too. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m going to go get clothes on.”
Matty blinked a few times as if he’d been dazed. “No, you’re fine. I didn’t mean to stare.” After another second, he was all business. “I’m making American pancakes for us. I hope you’re hungry.”
I chuckled. “Always.”
After I dressed and we ate, Matty informed me of the day’s plans. “I’m taking you to Oslo today. Wear sturdy shoes. We’ll be walking a lot. Sightseeing.”
“Aye aye, Captain. What about the crew?”
