Page 25 of When We Are Old

“We?”

“Well, as you are lumbered with it, I think I should help.”

“I’m not lumbered with it, Mam. I’m trying to face my demons.”

“Matt.” Ma reached for my hand, but I shot her a wide smile. “Uh oh, what idea have you got cooking in that brain of yours?”

An overwhelming desire for Ronnie steadily lit a match inside my gut, burning with a heat I knew I wouldn’t be able to extinguish without seeing her again. Now she was finally mine, I wanted nothing less than seeing her every moment I could. Ronnie was mine, at last. “I think I might go to London.”

“Matt, is that going to help what you’ve got going on here?”

“No. But it means I’ll see Ronnie.”

“And you can’t wait until the weekend?”

I shook my head, my heart pumping now I’d had the idea. I could be there in a couple of hours. Be with her, touching her, kissing her, my fingers in her hair.

“Matt, I’m worried. This is a high. You know what comes next.”

“Mam, it’s a dream. A dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

She nodded and clasped my hand in hers, so tight it pinched my fingers together. “Talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

I nodded, but I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to wake from this dream. This was Ronnie and me, and it was everything I’d ever wanted.

Less than an hour later, I settled back on seat 17B and closed my eyes. For the first time in a long time I lifted the lid on the past. I knew I could face it all if I could see her. She made everything better. With her I was Matthew and I was a new person. She could weave that magic now just like she always did.

“They should give you time slots in this library.”

She glanced up, her gaze grazing me as I peered over the study cubicle where she’d been holed up for the last two hours. “It’s almost dark outside. I’m concerned you’ll need my personal escorting service again.”

“Escorting?” She bit on her lip, making it bloom with blood.

My choice of words made that delicious stain of strawberry spread across her creamy skin again.

“Oh, well hold on, what are we talking about here?” I held my palms towards her, which was the last thing I wanted to do. What I wanted was to pick her little dolly self up, sit in her chair, and then settle her back over my lap so I could lower her mouth to mine and kiss the fuck out of her.

The thoughts weren’t good. Weren’t productive to, well, existing.

“Angela wants to go to the student bar tonight.” My ears pricked up and a little stab of excitement settled in the pit of my stomach. It twisted a jolt of electricity through me. I’d been waiting days for her to mention going out.

If I wasn’t a two-timing arsehole, I would have said it myself, but it lessened my guilt if our time spent together appeared almost accidental.

It wasn’t. None of it was. It was me, seeking a high, but getting dangerously close to getting burned to my core.

“The bar? It’s karaoke.” I wiggled my brows at her, loving the way she glanced at my lips.

She groaned and it did things to my dick that shouldn’t be possible in a public place. She had no idea. In lessons, walking across campus, in the library. My desire ran on a constant state of alert.

“You’ll fall at my feet when you hear me sing.”

“You’ll be there?” She sat up a little straighter, eyes a little brighter.

“Of course. Tuesday is football team night.”

She nodded absently and began to slip away. “That’s why Ange wants to go.”

I leant over the wooden barrier, determined to keep her smiling. “How about she goes for the rest of the team and you just come for me?”