Page 95 of The Matchmaker
From the corner of my eye, I see both Callum and Gemma stiffen, the movement so identical that it would have been funny if I wasn’t, you know, majorly panicking.
“That’s exciting!” She trills like we’re two friends gossiping. “And what kind of partner are you hoping to find? Give the lads coming some clues.”
No way does my smile look real. I can’t see what I look like, but I canfeelit straining.
“Someone nice,” I say eventually, and Gemma coughs. A bead of sweat trickles down the small of my back, and Mandykeeps going. Most likely because I don’t stop her. It’s another five minutes of probing questions about justhow single I amand my ideal date (apparently, I really like coffees and chats) before she finally wraps it up. As soon as she does and people can move freely again, Callum is up and out the door.
“You’re in trouble,” Gemma sings under her breath, and I give her a look.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, extracting myself from the group, as I race after Callum. I don’t have to go far. I’m barely two steps out of the building before he catches my hand, pulling me to the side by the flower wall we’d put up.
“Someone nice?”
“I panicked, okay?”
“You sure? Or are you trying to make me jealous?”
“No!” I say, even as my heart skips proudly. Jealous? I’m making him jealous? “I’m trying to do my job. It’s like when you’re in a boyband and you have to pretend you’re single. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means something to me. But good to know where you stand.”
“That’s not what I— Callum!” I screech in surprise, not quick enough to stop the noise as he grabs me by the waist, lifting me easily against the wall.
“There are like twenty people right—”
He kisses me. Hard and brief and toe-curling good. The rough edge of the brick scrapes my back while flowers tickle the side of my arm. A bolt of heat shoots through me at the sensation, and I tighten my legs around him, as though trying to keep him there.
“I feel like I must not have been clear before,” he says against my lips. “So let me be clear now. You want to do this with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then no matches. No dates. No open for business, even if it’s just for the cameras. Or I’ll kiss you just like that in front of them too. Got it?”
“Callum—”
“Got it,” I mutter, dazed.
“Good.” He lowers me to the ground, and I clutch at his arms, my legs still a little wobbly. “By the way?” he adds. “I’m officially mad at you.”
“What?”
“Yeah, this is our first couple fight.”
“But…” I gape at him. “I said I wasn’t going to—”
“Still mad,” he says, and kisses me again, his hands tightening against my waist before he abruptly lets go, leaving me gasping by the flowers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I will give you twenty euro if you let me put it up.”
I glance up at the mirror to see Nush standing behind me, a determined expression on her face. It’s late afternoon and the first guests are due to arrive in a few hours. She insisted we get ready at her salon beforehand, which means I’ve been sitting in this chair for forty-minutes while she tries to get me to put on bronzer.
“You always want me to wear my hair up.”
“Because you always wear it down.”
“I don’t like wearing it up,” I tell her, as she drags a brush through the strands. “There’s too much of it to wear up, it will just fall down.”
