Something So Perfect (Something So 2)

“I promise to never bring it up.”

I nod, knowing Cooper will be hearing about this. The minute my mother feels sad, or her mood changes, it’s like he knows. It’s like he senses it, which is how strong their bond is. I look up and I’m shocked that Karrie is standing there in the doorway. She stares at me with confusion in her eyes, sadness, and most of all worry. This woman who I met two days ago has embedded herself in me and I have no idea how I lived without her.

“Mom, I got to go. The bus is leaving in ten minutes. Kiss the kids for me and smack Allison upside the head. Tell her I saw her stupid Instagram post and to delete it or else.” I hang up, knowing that my mother is laughing and calling Allison right away.

“Is everything okay?” she asks from the side of the door. She is standing there with her tight blue jeans, a beige jacket, some scarf thing around her neck, and brown high heel boots. I toss my phone on the bed, looking back at her.

“It’s”—I look back at my bag then up at her again—“it’s nothing.” I shake my head. “Come give me a kiss.”

She stands there, her stance going from worried about me to pissed while she crosses her arms across her chest, cocking her hip out. “No.” She shakes her head.

“Babe.” I start to walk to her when she holds out her hand.

“Don’t come near me, Matthew Grant.” She steps back. “You come all in my face”—she waves her hands in the air—“and I forget things, like how I don’t like you.” She closes the door to her side of the room.

I knock on the door, whispering, “Karrie, I need a kiss good luck.”

“No,” she says from her side of the door.

“Please,” I say smiling, hoping it’s winning her over.

The doorknob turns, opening the door. “No kissing,” she says through the small crack.

I wait for the door to open more.

“I have lipstick, and I’ve just applied it. And I don’t want—”

And that’s all I let her say before pushing the door open and grabbing her face.

“I don’t care.” My lips land on hers. My tongue invades hers as her hands go to my hips. My tongue twirls with hers, her strawberry lip gloss now transferred to mine. My hands never leave her cheeks.

I let go of the kiss, leaning back while her eyes slowly blink open. “See, wasn’t that easy?” I say while her nails dig into my hips, making me laugh.

She lets go, letting my hands fall to my sides. Going to her bag, she opens it up, grabbing what looks like wet ones.

“Here”—she hands me one—“clean your face so you don’t have any glitter or shine.”

I take it from her, wiping my face. “Do I have any more?” I ask her.

She walks up to me, taking the rag from me and cleaning me again.

“I still don’t like you,” she says, while I try not to smile. “Just so you know.” She finishes and turns around, throwing the towelette into the garbage. “Now let’s go so we don’t miss the bus.” She zips everything up, walking to the door. “Don’t follow me.” She points to the door. “Go out there so people don’t suspect anything.”

“No one is going to suspect anything,” I tell her, going to my room, grabbing my stuff, and walking out of my room. I meet five of my teammates when I walk out. I say hello to everyone, my eyes landing on Karrie, who is standing there with an ‘I told you so’ look.

I can’t really say anything to her because for once she’s right. Okay, maybe more than once, but I won’t ever tell her that.

Chapter Ten

Karrie

I glare at him, knowing that he knows I’m right but won’t say anything. The smirk says it all. I avoid standing next to him. I even avoid sitting with him on the bus, instead going to sit next to Robert, who is already on the bus. Just when I think he is going to go sit in the back, he sits in the same aisle on the other side. He puts his ear buds in and watches something on his phone and by the time I look around we are headed home, back on the plane after winning in Philly three to one. He didn’t score this time, but he did have two assists. His third line is on fire. The reporters are all waiting for them to interview them after the game. Matthew stays out of most of them, choosing to let his other teammates get the spotlight.

I’m standing by the bus thinking this when a reporter comes on with the highlights of the game. While they talk about the new addition, they also point out some of the key top line players that are slacking. There’s also a close shot of Max yelling something at the ref. I can’t make out what he says, but I’m sure it isn’t words of love. There’s another shot of him telling Matthew to fuck off clear as day. Matthew just looks at him, shaking his head. Mr. Cool. That is what the reporters are dubbing him. I smile to myself while the door to the bus opens. I get on, sitting in the front again, grabbing a magazine, this time to read while I wait for the team to get on. Slowly they trickle in. When I feel someone sit next to me, I look up expecting it to be Matthew, but the snide smile of Max makes my insides flop down.