The Matchmaker

Chapter 38

"Cat?"

I'm trying my best. No. My utmost to fend off the lingering image of two of my friends making out in broad daylight right in front of me.

I may be twenty-one but bearing witness to what just went down will haunt me for the rest of my days; prior to this moment, I had pictured Celia and Patrick as singing buddies belting karaoke tunes off tune.

The only other person who seems to share my discomfort is the waiter whose skin is donning the shade 'vibrant tomato' from the tip of his head to the base of his neck.

The shock value was so high, he had tripped while stepping back, flipping and barreling backwards causing the waitress behind him to collapse with croissants, cake slices, and iced coffee gliding first into the air before staining the floor.

Pressing my lips together, I turn to Zander and put on a veil of passivity over my face before giving him a 'you were saying?' look.

"What do you think of the photos?"

"I think if I have to look at their tongues more than their dentists do, then I'll sue. So please don't make me look at them anymore," I said pleadingly with a touch of a grimace.

Chuckling, Zander tosses my hair which irritates me since it felt like I was the innocent child in the room.

"Seriously? Nothing about all this unsettles you?" I asked, motioning a hand at Celia and Patrick who were still recovering from the heat of their actions.

"No, why should it? I'm not jealous either. I have a sweet and lovely girlfriend to kiss afterwards."

Gawking, I lightly smack his arm once and then twice by the casual tone of his voice. To just say that openly and cooly? Who did he think he was assuming he'd get anything from me?

Even as I think this, my body reacts differently and my eyes slide toward his mouth and I have to bite down on my own lip and tear my gaze away.

Get it together Catherine! Think PG thoughts only. PG. PG. P.G.

Muttering under my breath, I give Zander a hard look. "Like I'm going to let you anywhere near my lips."

Offering me a slow, wide smile, Zander clutches his chest. "The betrayal. The hurt. Can't you just love me the way these two do?" He sticks out the hand holding his phone, bringing me face to face with a vey candid and raw image.

Making dramatic gagging sounds, I shove the phone away from view and glare. "Get that thing away from me or I swear I will write off men for the rest of my life, including you."

"You don't want me?"

"The only thing I want right now is to purify my eyes and that's something you obviously can't do for me," I huffed.

I should have known I dug my own grave by materializing and vocalizing those words because his next lines instantly have me rolling my eyes.

Cocking his head to one side, Zander raises a brow while smirking. "Purify your sight? Why Catherine, yes I can. And there are plenty of things I can do for you."

I'm about to tell Zander that I'd seen enough from our stay at the guesthouse to know that whatever purifying methods he had wouldn't be enough to work on me when Celia's voice cuts deep into the air between us.

"Can the two of you stop flirting and start taking photos? We're the ones dying here!" She said wryly.

She's taken off the silk scarf and sunglasses, retouched her lipstick, and has buttoned Patrick's shirt with nimble fingers and a speed that surprises the usually talkative boy into total silence.