Page 39 of Texting Mr. Stranger

But when he gestures behind us, I break free from the spell and hear the voices. People are coming. I quickly adjust my dress and climb to my feet. The voices get louder as they grow closer, a man and a woman. Matt takes my hand and leads me away, but I walk slower, listening to the snippets.

“Can you imagine where we’ll be in ten years? Maybe we’ll have a little house with a garden.” The man’s voice deepens with hope.

“Wait,” I murmur once we’re back under the cover of the trees.

“Why?” Matt says softly, looking down at me.

“I want to listen,” I admit.

He smirks, teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Eavesdrop, you mean.”

Now, the woman is speaking. “I always wanted a dog. What kind of job do you think you’ll have?”

“Something creative, I hope. Maybe I’ll be a writer or an artist, but whatever it is, I just want to be happy, you know?”

“As long as we’re together, we’ll be happy. I want to travel with you and see the world. Do you think we could do that?”

I squeeze my hand even tighter onto Matt’s. I’m not sure why I’m doing this. I can’t even see them. They must be under the cover of the trees on the other side of the clearing. Something is tempting in their words. Naïve, maybe futile, but I almost wish Matt and I were, what, talking about the future? I need to get a grip.

“I’d love that. We could go everywhere, like Paris, Tokyo, maybe even somewhere wild like the Amazon.”

“That sounds amazing, but what if life gets in the way? What if we don’t get to do all those things?”

“Then we’ll make our own adventures wherever we are. Even if it’s just finding the best ice cream in town.”

“Ice cream sounds good right now. As long as we don’t lose this feeling, it’ll all be okay, right?”

“Yeah, it will be. We have to keep believing in us. Do you think we’ll change?”

“Of course, we’ll change, but I hope we grow together, not apart.”

Matt tugs on my hand again, more insistently this time, when the young couple walks into view. “Come on. This isn’t for us to hear.”

He’s right. I turn, walking away with him, my sex sore in the best way from what we just did. Once back in the parking lot, we walk past the cheap-looking motorcycle—presumably the couple’s ride—and to Matt’s car.

“What was that about?” he asks, turning to me.

“Huh?”

“Listening to those two…” His eyes narrow as though part of him suspects the answer. Yet I don’t know how that could be when I’m unsure.

I shrug. “They just sounded so in love. So sure. They sounded young, right?”

“They looked young when they came into view.”

“But they were sosure,” I say.

Matt reaches up and gently smooths my hair from my face. “Is that what you want, to be that sure?”

My body tingles like song notes surging through me, telling me to get steamy with him again. The fact that we didn’t goallthe way is good. It means I didn’t have to get into the whole never-had-sex-before deal.

“Do you?” I counter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MATTEO

When she asks me ifIwish I were as sure as those two lovestruck high schoolers, I almost tell her something irresponsible. I nearly say, “I’m sure already.”Yet apart from that being a lie—a man in my position can’t be sure about anything except the need to stay strong—I know it would be dangerous.

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