Page 28 of Matched

“My date is an asshole.”

“My date is even more of an asshole.” Nate made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Okay, okay, I’m done. Enough of that. Let’s just agree we’re both assholes, and we can get on with the rest of our day.”

“Let’s agree you are, and we can go.” I followed him back to where we’d left our bikes. It was much cooler in the shade of the tree, and I took a second to breathe in the fresh air before swiping my T-shirt from the ground so I could rub it across my face. When I lowered it, Nate was standing right in front of me, and I couldn’t help my sharp exhale of surprise.

“Bit jumpy, aren’t you?” He gave me a smug grin, which widened when I glared at him. To be fair, it was hard to properlyglare at someone when they were looking so pleased with themselves.

“I guess you’ve perfected the art of sneaking up on people, what with your stalkery criminal tendencies.”

“Maybe I have.” Moving around to my back, he dipped his head to my ear. “Boo.”

I was prepared for him this time, so I didn’t jump, but I did have to tense all my muscles so I didn’t do anything weird like shiver at the feel of his hot breath on my bare skin.

A hand appeared in front of my face, holding— “What the fuck? When did you get my phone?”

“Distraction technique,” Nate said low in my ear, dropping his hand. This time, I felt him slide my phone back into my pocket.

My dick felt it, too.

Oh, fuck. This was not good.

I exhaled slowly, trying to control my spiking heart rate. “Uh, good job. Let me try it.” What the fuck was I saying?

Because Nate’s head was still close to my ear, I heard his breath hitch, even though he cleared his throat and moved back straight away. “Go on, then. See if you can manage to mug me.”

“I’ll do it when you least expect it,” I promised, counting to ten inside my head. When I felt calmer, I slid my sunglasses back on and turned around to find Nate crouched on the ground, digging around in his bag. He’d put his sunglasses back on, too, and his cheeks were a little flushed, although it was probably from the exercise and the heat.

Straightening up, he tipped a sports bottle to his lips. I took my chance, sidling up behind him and slipping my hand into the right pocket of his shorts.

I completely misjudged—well, fuckingeverything, and my hand slid over the hard muscle of his thigh and then onto what was quite clearly his dick.

He choked on his water, spitting it everywhere as he jumped away from me with a gasp.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry!” I dropped to the ground, drawing up my knees and burying my flaming face in my arms. “Leave me here to die. Please.”

I’d touched his fucking dick. And now he was either going to run away or kill me, or if he did neither of those things, it was about to get very, very awkward between us.

“Charlie. It’s okay. I know you weren’t trying to touch my dick.”

I raised my head, hearing the amusement in Nate’s voice. There was something else there, too, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to examine it at that moment.

“All that trauma, and your phone wasn’t even in your pocket,” I moaned.

“Trauma.” He laughed. His cheeks were definitely more flushed than they had been, which was unsurprising since he’d just been inadvertently groped. “I’ve never heard that word used in relation to my dick before.”

“Have you ever had a man try to grope it before?”

“No, but it can accidentally happen sometimes when we’re fucking around or playing football— Wait. You weretryingto grope me?”

“Nooo. No, I wasn’t. I promise. I was just trying to pickpocket you.”

“You did that, alright.”

“Ugh. Leave me to die, please.” I flopped back on the grass, covering my face. “My life of crime is over before it even managed to begin,” I mumbled.

Fingers curled around my palm, lifting it away from my face. Nate was sprawled out next to me, that stupid, wide grin on his face.

“Your first mistake was that you chose the wrong pocket. My phone was in my left pocket.”

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