Ridiculous: Mattory

10: You Only Want It 'Cause It's Over

Mallory

February fades into March; while it doesn't quite feel like spring yet, it's a welcome relief to trade out heavy winter coats for thinner ones more suitable for the milder weather.

Jared's ground rules aren't as restrictive as Matt and I were afraid they'd be, though we do have a few close calls, a few raised brows, and a few lines being toed. We don't live in the studio, at least, and what goes on after hours is our own business. Besides, now that the entire cast knows about our relationship, there's a sudden influx of Mattory sketches being written. Six months ago I might have been irritated beyond belief—now, however, half the fun is in keeping up that aloof act for the fans.

It's a surprisingly quiet day in the studio, and Matt and I are sitting in the writing room, sorting through some fan mail. "Here's one for the Jeremy pile," I say, handing Matt a thin envelope.

He grins at me and sorts it away, bumping his knee into mine under the table. Even that simple gesture sends a pleasant shudder through me. "This one's for... 'The Prettiest Woman at Studio C,'"he says.

"I'll go fetch Natalie," I joke, making him swat me on the shoulder with the creamy envelope with my name on it before handing it over. "Oh, I haven't heard from my secret admirer for awhile," I say, surprised, as I look at the familiar handwriting.

"Your what?" Matt sets down the next stack of letters and looks at me, tone sharp.

"My secret admirer," I repeat, slitting the envelope open with a practiced motion. "No return address, but always on the same paper. He writes me every so often. He's quiet sweet."

Matt grumbles something incoherent and I read through the letter, laughing quietly at the flowery prose and shy compliments on one of my latest performances.

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous of, most likely, some teenage boy with a crush," I tease.

"I am not jealous." He rolls his eyes and sorts through the last stack of letters, forming them up into neat piles. When he finishes, he peers over, plainly trying to read my letter.

"Hey," I say, snatching it to my chest. "I don't see Matt Meese written anywhere on here."

He leans over and I can almost feel the effort it's taking him to remember that we're still technically working, that we need to keep ourselves under control. "I just don't want him getting the wrong idea," he whispers, and his breath on my ear makes me shiver. "Can't have him thinking you're free for the taking."

"I don't think you need to worry," I say, just as quietly. I put a hand to his chest and send him a mischievous grin. "Jealous."

"'M not jealous," he says again with a laugh. "Protective, maybe. Or possessive."

"Mhm," I say, unconvinced. I fold up my letter and shove it back in its envelope, but wind up dragging my finger across the edge and hiss in pain.

"You all right?"

"Fine," I say, glaring at the offending finger. "Paper cut."

"Let me see?"

He makes a show of inspecting the wound and I can't help but let out a laugh. "What, are you going to kiss it better?" I suck in a breath when he grins at me, then bite my lip when he proceeds to do just that.

Sensation rockets up my arm and I hold back another gasp. His eyes dance with mischief and I think to myself that such a simple gesture shouldn't be so... tempting? Intoxicating?