bottom, then I’ll risk it. Taking a deep breath, I hit Send.
Mat: I’ll keep it 4evah
Me: Shut up
Mat: No, really. I especially like the cat face on the eye mask. What is it with you and cats anyway? It’s like you’re overcompensating for your cat allergy
Me: I like cats
Mat: I got that part
Me: Just because I can’t have one as a pet doesn’t mean I don’t like looking at them. Speaking of things I like to look at…send me of pic of you
Mat: Thought you’d never ask
Five seconds later, a photo arrives. Of Mat. Without a shirt.
Mat: Well. What do you think?
My entire vocabulary has fled. I’m surprised I can even make sense of his words.
Mat: Have you fainted from all my hotness?
Good question. Do red cheeks, a pounding heart, and a dry mouth count as fainting?
Mat: Winnie? This isn’t a come-on, promise. That’s just how I sleep. I didn’t even show you my boxers. We’ll have to save that for next time.
I’m laughing now. I can’t help it. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like Mat—and I probably never will, ever again.
Mat: Kidding, kidding! Seriously, are you there? Can you respond, please?
Me: I’m here. Thanks for the pic
Mat: Are you going to keep it 4evah?
Me: First I have to figure out how I’m going to sleep
Mat: *cackles* OK. Sexy dreams—I mean, sweet dreams
Me: Brat
Mat: It takes one to know one. Talk tomorrow?
Me: Definitely. Nite
I throw down the phone and flop against my pillows, the smile practically splitting my face. I don’t know how I’m going to face him tomorrow, or any other day for that matter. But for now, I’m just going to revel in another first.
Mat Songsomboon just sexted me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I wake with the same smile on my face. Bits of sun stream around the closed blinds, which means my room is bathed in a perfectly muted light. I snuggle into my comforter, soft and cozy. A minute passes before I remember what day it is and what happened last night.
Sunday, which means I can sleep in. And yesterday, I had my first real date with Mat. My lips stretch even wider as I recall the moment his forehead touched mine, the way I laughed until my stomach hurt when he tasted the Everythang sauce, even the photo of him without a shirt.
It’s been a long time since I was this carefree. This—dare I say it?—happy. Since I could completely let go and give myself to the moment. It feels good. Every second in Mat’s company feels right. And I can’t wait for more.
I reach for my cell phone, but I haven’t received any more text messages. Little wonder. I kept him up late last night, and he’s probably still sleeping.
What does he look like when he’s asleep? Does he curl his hand under his cheek, the way he did as a little boy? Or is he a sprawler—his long arms and legs taking up the entire bed?
I refuse to think about what he wears—or doesn’t wear. My cheeks hot, I determinedly close my eyes, preparing to drift off again.
But then the doorknob rattles, and Mama walks inside. She heads straight for my blinds, twisting them open with a snap of her wrist. “Rise and shine.”
Groaning, I pull the comforter over my head. Classic Mama. No soothing music to ease the transition into wakefulness, the way Papa rouses us. (He read an article once about the most effective way to wake a person up.)
“It’s past eleven,” Mama says. “You have a date in forty minutes.”
My eyes pop open, and I sit up, throwing back my blanket. “I do? But it’s Sunday. And I just had one last night.” Not that I’m complaining. Far from it. The prospect of seeing Mat again has me giddy.
But Mama’s usually the type to create a schedule—and stick to it. With the exception of the car ride home, we’ve had practice dates: 1) once a week, 2) on Saturdays, which, 3) re-create a scene from a classic rom-com.
Mama crosses her arms. “You’re going to Parkway Deli. It’s about time we give a nod to When Harry Met Sally.”
“Um.” How do I say this politely? To my mother? “That iconic scene at the deli. Meg Ryan—well, she was faking an orgasm. Are you positively sure that’s the moment you want us to reenact?”
Mama blinks, her arms dropping. “Oh. Is that what happens? I must not remember the movie very well. Wasn’t there just a lot of screaming and a really good pastrami