Page 6 of Driving Wild

Tinley:

What the hell? Ryan just filled me in on everything. And damn, girl, that ring is gorgeous.

Mia:

WHAT? I thought you hated that racer. Something about, “he’s a fuckboy, and I wouldn’t touch him even if he were the last person on earth.”

Me:

Well, I may have done something stupid the other day that put me in this spot, so for the next little bit, I’m his wife. (Eye roll emoji)

Lily:

Wait, what have I missed?? I’m over here in baseball land and hear nothing.

Tin:

Grace is married to Matt McCall now. (Laughing emoji)

Lily:

WHAT?

Me:

Yep, it was a ruse that the media took and ran with. Just Google me, it’s everywhere.

Mia:

Well, at least his taste in jewelry is amazing. I wouldn’t mind one of those.

Lily:

Wow, what a ring! Okay, now that I’m out of shock, are you okay?

Me:

Honestly, I’m not sure, and on the other hand I want to hate everything about him. Then he does something sweet, and I’m like damn him.

Tin:

Maybe y’all don’t hate each other as much as you think. Just saying.

Ugh. Lying across my bed, I take a minute to try to figure out if my friends could be right. Maybe we don’t hate each other as much as we want. It’s more frenemies. Looking back at the ring, I think we can try to make this work for the next two months. Why does he have to make it easy to want to?

Me:

Well, this has been great, but now I need to try to figure out how to act like I’m in love with my “husband” this weekend in Miami.

After a few more texts back and forth with my girlfriends, I call it a night and try to get some sleep.

The next morning, I wake up and try to get my bearings, then I realize I’m not in my apartment or my own bed. I’m at Matt’s house. This is my life now.

After taking a shower, fixing my hair and makeup for the day, and trying to figure out my outfit, I can smell breakfast being made. There’s a small smile on my face as I walk out to find a shirtless Matt in gray sweatpants once again. His body is on display for me, not a tattoo in sight, just all smooth skin and tan muscle. Damn, the man is hot, I’ll give him that. Clearing my throat, I step into the kitchen, and he turns and notices me with a tiny smirk on his face.

“Morning, Red. Sleep well?”

“Yeah, it was good. Umm, I found this on my nightstand when I went to bed,” I say as I put the box on the counter between us.

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