Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Cleaning out the skeletons in Rob & Kristen’s closet, one sweet trinket at a time.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them
Notes: Dedicated to bluangleyes because, well, it’s her plotline. :)
Previous Chapters: Prologue & Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Matchbook
Kristen smiled as her eyes settled on the beat up blue matchbook. Rob moved behind him and kissed her shoulder.
“That was the night I knew I was going to marry you, no matter what I had to do to make it happen,” he said softly.
She turned her head to kiss him. “I think I knew it then too…I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself.”
He had convinced her to leave the relative safety of his parents’ house and come out to a hole-in-the-wall pub to meet a few of his friends. As she sat in the corner booth, wringing her hands nervously as they waited for his mates to arrive.
“Stop worrying. They’re going to love you,” he said, placing another beer in front of her. She was already two in, trying to calm her nerves.
She fidgeted with the blue matchbook that he'd used to light a cigarette with earlier. “I’m so nervous, Rob! What if they think I’m too young for you? Or what if—“
He cut her off with a kiss, placing her perfect face in the palms of his hands.
“Oh if you’re going to be snogging all night we may as well get a separate bloody table!” someone interrupted, sitting down across from them.
Kristen blushed furiously, burying her face in Rob’s chest.
He chuckled. “Kristen, these are my friends Tom and Bobby,” he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it.
“Nice to finally see that you actually do exist and you’re not a figment of our young lad’s imagination,” Tom said, grinning cheekily.
Rob groaned and his friends laughed and launched into countless embarrassing stories about him, making Kristen laugh so hard she thought she might lose control of her bladder if they didn’t stop for a bit.
“Babe, I need to use the loo,” she finally said, nudging Rob’s leg.
He grinned at her use of British slang. His family had been teasing her relentlessly and he’d enjoyed watching her concentrate on what wording she used.
Rob moved to let her out of the booth before sitting back down. His eyes following her ass in those jeans and he shifted slightly, trying not to be obvious.
Tom noticed though, and snickered. “Someone is smitten.”
“Someone has a stiffy,” Bobby joined in.
Rob groaned. “Why am I friends with you two again?”
An hour later and countless beers later, Rob and Kristen found themselves huddled in the booth by themselves.
“I love it here,” she said quietly.
“The pub?”
“No,” she giggled. “London.” She sighed softly. “Everyone is so much more relaxed than back home. And they let you go about your business. Americans are so…nosey.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely different,” he agreed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“I can imagine living here.”
“Yeah?” he asked, surprised.
“Yeah. Getting married, raising kids, spending the weekends in a pub. Sounds like a good life to me.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It does.”
“I’m glad I’m not so stubborn anymore,” she said, bringing him out of his memory.
He grinned. “Oh, you’re still stubborn, love,” he said, bracing him for the smack on the shoulder he thought was coming.
Instead, she surprised him by simply smiling and kissing his cheek.
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