Ridiculous: Mattory

7: Matt + Mallory = Mattory

Matt

Mallory's phone blares far too soon.

She lets out a soft groan that I immediately echo. "Did you have to set that so early?"

"Thought I'd get a head start," she mumbles. We'd rolled apart in the night, but now I closed the distance between us, wrapping my arm around her waist and earning a breathy laugh as I bury my head against her neck. "Hi."

"Hi," I echo. "You cheated me out of half an hour of sleep, you know."

"The horror," she says dryly.

"Make it up to me?"

She laughs again. "By doing what?"

"Stay and cuddle?" I ask, trying to make my voice as plaintive as possible.

"That defeats the whole purpose of waking up early, Matt."

"So?"

Before she can respond with something that will likely be far too reasonable and thought out for this hour of the morning, I reach over and start nipping at her neck again. "Matt," she whines. I answer with only a hum.

Before either of us know it, our head start on the morning has been all but erased.

Last night consumes my thoughts as I shower and pack. Mallory beats me to breakfast this morning, and I almost walk right up and bend her over backward when I see she is, in fact, wearing a thick, knit turtleneck.

Focus, Matt, I tell myself, because while Mallory might be done filming, I'm not. Still, I know exactly why she's wearing that turtleneck, and it's driving me nuts.

She sidles up to my table as the room begins to clear. "Something wrong, Matt?" she asks, her tone teasing as she plops into the seat across from me.

I raise my eyebrows and focus on keeping myself as still as possible. "Gotta admit," I say quietly, "I hate you a little right now."

"Mm, really?" she says, with a chuckle so flirty it ought to be illegal. Her voice drops even lower. "'Cause that's not what you said last night."

"Some of us still have to film," I say with a touch of exasperation, even though it's taking every ounce of self-control I have to stay at a respectable distance from her.

"I'll leave you boys to it, then," she says, getting up again and leaving with a sashay that, upon further reflection, I think should probably also be illegal.

Despite my distraction, our filming is done by the early afternoon. We end up grabbing lunch somewhere quick and casual, and we're nearly finished eating when Natalie claps her hands for our attention.

"Slight change of plan, guys," she says. "Matt, Stacey, you're swapping cars with Whitney and Stephen."

I glance across the restaurant to Mallory, and it seems she's just as surprised at the change as I am. I have my suspicions for why Natalie's doing this, and the smirk she gives me when I meet her eyes only confirms it. Ah, so the girls want to grill Mallory without my interference. Well then.

My phone buzzes and I find a text from Mallory.

Meet me outside?

I make some excuse to exit the conversation and pull on my coat, catching Mallory's eye as I stand. She gives me a slight nod and I head outside, leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant to wait for her.

I don't have long to wait—she takes just long enough that it won't be obvious we went out together. "Save me from well-meaning but overbearing friends," she says dramatically, draping her arms over my shoulders when she gets close enough.