Suddenly You (Our Exception Book 2)

Chapter 14

Iwas never one for kissing, my dates usually ending in quick fucks and then very sneaky exits. But with Matthew, all I want to do is kiss him. Coming doesn’t even factor into it. Doesn’t even matter. All I want to do is taste him, to feel the sweet way he clings to me, and realize that he loves this just as much as I do.

He chases my lips when I’m away, his body seeking mine.

He needs me in ways no one has before, and I plan on giving him everything he’s ever wanted. Everything he’s ever needed.

And I don’t even want to leave. There’s just something about him that keeps me close, that keeps me giving a part of myself to him.

I want to keep him tucked against me forever.

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” Matthew grumbles, his lips moving to slide against mine once more. I let him, spending the next several minutes just kissing him lazily. My tongue slips into his mouth and they tangle. When we finally pull away, I hear his stomach grumble.

“You need to eat.”

“Don’t need to,” he sighs, his eyelids drooping.

“You need to. You’ve only eaten breakfast today.”

He sighs and then kisses me again. He’s insatiable, and if I didn’t like him so much, I’d have put a stop to this. But it seems I’m just as addicted to him.

“We can just order in,” I tell him as he nuzzles against me.

“Fine. If you insist.”

“I do. I don’t need you expiring from hunger. We have a lot more kissing to do.”

“We do,” he says groggily as he follows me out onto the patio.

We put on clothes this morning to eat and never took them off, which means we’re warm and toasty outside when we settle onto the spacious lounge chair. We cuddle under the blankets, Matthew’s lips finding mine right after I order us some food.

It comes an hour later, and I drag my humming body to the door, retrieving the bags and bringing them back to Matthew, who is still bundled under the blanket.

I feed him, one bite at a time, taking turns kissing my way across his lips and jaw in between and watching as he just sighs into my touch.

How am I ever going to let go of such a sweet and needy man?

“I was thinking,” he says after he swallows a bite of pita bread and hummus. His tongue sneaks out and wets his lip. My eyes follow the movement, realizing that I’m just as ravenous as he is. Just as needy.

“What were you thinking about?” I prod, and Matthew closes his eyes.

“Just thinking about how different I feel since meeting you.”

“Yeah?” I ask as I gently touch his lips. They’re pink and puffy from kissing me all goddamn day. Not that I’m complaining. I’d kiss him like this for the rest of our lives. I can’t imagine it ever growing old.

“Yeah, I think if you’d asked me who I was months ago, I never would have said a dude who was into another guy.”

“Ah, so you’re into me?” I ask with a waggle of my eyebrows, and Matthew huffs out a small laugh.

“Yeah, seems I am. Can’t you tell by the way I’m all over you?”

“Mhm.”

“I just feel like such a hypocrite.”

“For how you treated your brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there’s always amends that can be made. Perhaps when we go visit Sem and Magnus, you can grovel.”

“I think I’ll have to.”

“Like on your knees. Admit how wrong you were.”

He nods and then turns to look at me, his face drawn and serious.

“Mitch has been messaging. I’m gonna meet up with him tomorrow.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yeah, he wants to hang out again. I can just shoot some hoops with him. Make some chit-chat. Try to make it seem like everything is fine with me.”

“Hm, well, it is fine, right? Just don’t let him talk down to you and don’t tell him anything you don’t want to. You don’t owe him one goddamn thing.”

“I guess so. He’s gonna be mad though. It’s been a while since we’ve met up, and I can tell by his messages that I’ve hurt his feelings.”

“I get that. I do, but you don’t need to put up with it. You can just turn and walk away if he gets aggressive.”

“I kind of feel like maybe I need to sit there and take it. Because of all the shit I’ve pulled all these years. Like it’s karma coming back to bite me in the ass.”

“No one deserves whatever hate he may throw your way. You can sit and take it or set a boundary and tell him no.”

Matthew runs a hand through his hair and stares off into the distance.

“I know, but karma, man. All of this.”

“Am I good karma or bad karma?”

“You’re everything good,” he says softly, and I can’t help but be pulled into him, like a moon orbiting it’s planet.

I lean over and kiss him, hoping to distract him from any worries that may be crowding his brain. And it works. He sinks into me and his tongue snakes into my mouth, tangling with mine. He tastes like the dinner I just fed him, like quintessential Matthew, and I feast on him until we finally break apart and head back to bed.

This is honestly the best weekend I’ve ever had. I never want it to end.

The next morning, Matthew heads off to work, and I kiss him goodbye, my mouth chasing after his as he steps into the elevator. And then I sit in my big, cavernous place, staring out into the distance and missing him. Just like I do every day since he started to open up to me.

This is so much more to me than a silly transaction.

This is my heart I’m messing with.

His as well.

But at this moment, it doesn’t even matter. I just want him home with me, cuddling against my side, nuzzling my neck and kissing me senseless. But sadly, he has to work. He has bills to pay. I made this stupid agreement with him to have him pay off the cost of a divorce. It’s something I’m kicking myself over now. My impulsivity has reached a new low with this whole mess.

The truth is, I wish that he was staying married to me because he wants to, not to pay off his debt.

I think I’m coming to want him more than he wants me.

I sigh and pace around, corner to corner, trying to find something to do with my busy mind, but it doesn’t work. Nothing can stop me from obsessing over him, from needing him.

So to burn off some of this energy, I go for a run. I find myself in year-old yoga pants and one of Matthew’s undershirts. My legs pump furiously underneath me and my lungs heave. I last about ten minutes on the beach before I find myself doubled over, wheezing, my knees shaking. I should never run again.

I should just dispose of my useless legs.

Wobbling back home, I flop face first onto my couch, staring at the floor. It’s an ugly floor. I should have it redone, should ask Matthew what kind he’d prefer.

Ugh. Why do I miss him so much? Why do I even care? This has never happened to me before. But I do know what makes Matthew different.

He’s so damn sweet, with his seashells and his snuggles and his tender kisses.

Fuck, Mitch better not have hurt him or his feelings when they met up this morning. I may have to hire an assassin if that’s the case.

No one messes with my Matthew.

Scrambling up, I grab my phone, searching for any messages from Matthew. But there’s nothing waiting for me, not a word. My frown reflects off the blank screen of my phone as I flick it back on and type out a message, asking how his meeting went with Mitch. I don’t receive a response. Not even after a whole goddamn hour.

I hate it. Hate not having access to him whenever I want.

I should probably volunteer at his school, get in some more time with him.

It’s insane and yet still, I contemplate it. I have done a bit of volunteer work at other establishments over the years, so it wouldn’t be a huge stretch.

Spinning the wedding band on my finger, I phone the school, asking what I can do to help, if that’s even possible to volunteer with a bunch of smelly teens. And delightfully, I’m told that yes, I can assist where needed, but I just need to have a background check completed and my fingerprints taken.

I can do that. I so can. Sure, it’s a little stalkerish when you think too hard about it, but I can’t stop myself from moving forward with it.

I just want to spend more time with him. Plus, I have all this free time, so why not?

While I’m on the phone with the principal, I decide that since they’ve been so helpful, I’ll give a donation to the school. I want to make a good impression and hope that money will make them sing my praises.

Maybe buying some new equipment for their sports teams will do the trick.

Maybe it will get me to him faster.

I can’t stand another day like this, where I just wait for him like a useless sack. Never in my life have I been unhappy with being rich and lazy, but now I feel like I need to do something meaningful, like I need to occupy my time away from him so I don’t lose my mind.

After I hang up with a very happy principal, I begin to make plans—speaking to my lawyers about transferring money to the school, filling out the background check paperwork, and going down to the local office to get myself fingerprinted. Everything on my end is expedited because money works miracles, and by the time I get home and start making dinner, I feel like I’ve accomplished so much.

Not that Matthew has messaged me back so I can tell him everything I’ve done. Damn him, making me pine, making me a needy bitch. I hate this for me. Even so, my frustration doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss him as soon as he walks in the door. I want to pick up right where we left off, want to be swept away by him.

I’m almost done cooking a spicy Alfredo pasta that I’m particularly proud of when I hear the front door open and footsteps stroll toward me. I know who it is, have memorized his steps.

Matthew.

It’s like over the past few weeks, I’ve become in tune with him, can sense him, can feel when he’s near. Whenever this happens, my cheeks heat, my heart rate picks up. My excitement can’t be contained. It’s overwhelming.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My eyes shut, and I brace myself just as strong arms wrap around my waist, and I feel his lips on my skin. His mouth drags across the thumping pulse point in my neck, and I arch to the side, giving him better access. God. I’m so fucking gone for him.

“Hey. I missed you,” I whisper, and Matthew hums his agreement.

“Missed you too.”

His lips drag across my jaw and land on the corner of my mouth, but before he can go any further, I pull away slightly.

“You didn’t message me back.”

He sighs, his forehead touching mine, his hands curling against my stomach. “Yeah, well I’ve been dealing with annoying parents all day.”

I arch an eyebrow at the frustration in his voice. “Hm, yes, I can see that. Well, dinner’s almost ready and I want to hear all about it. And when we’re done, I’ll give you a massage and a blow job to help you relax.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles and then tilts my head up, kissing me firmly on the lips.

It’s scorchingly hot, and I end up nearly burning dinner with how distracted I am. When he finally pulls away and walks toward the island, I’m left blinking after him in a daze.

Hell. I’m so fucking screwed.

With trembling fingers I manage to finish dinner, setting a plate before him on the counter. He stares deeply into the pasta, as if contemplating something and then stands up. He grabs on to the plate and walks toward the balcony. He doesn’t even ask me to join him, he just expects me to follow, and fuck me, I do. It’s become a ritual that I can’t quite seem to put a stop to.

Because he wants to cuddle while he eats. He wants me to feed him.

To take care of him.

God, I live for this. I’m living for him.

This can’t be healthy, but at this moment in time, I don’t fucking care.

As the blanket settles over our entwined bodies, he leans into me and sighs. “Fuck, I’m really glad I’m home. Today was a nightmare.”

I pick at my food as I ask what happened. Matthew seems to be thinking about what to say, so I just let him sit with it for a moment. When he finally speaks, my stomach churns.

“So, I met with Mitch this morning and he was pretty upset. Kept making off-handed comments, was kind of aggressive. I think he’s really hurt. I mean, I know he is, and I kinda feel like shit about it.”

I peer over at Matthew and see him nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I, uh, fuck, Coop. I invited him over to have dinner with me.”

My fork hovers over my food as I watch him. What the hell is he saying? “You mean, you invited him here? In my home? In our home?”

Matthew swallows and he glances away from me. “Yeah. We can eat out on the boardwalk if you’d rather not deal with him. He can be a bit much.”

“Did you tell him about us?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“So you invited him here for dinner…to meet me?”

Matthew nods and then shakes his head, still not meeting my gaze.

“Uh, I dunno. I just felt like shit seeing him all hurt, so I tried to fix it. And I think I made it worse.”

I pause, my mind reeling. “Are you going to tell him that we’re married?”

Matthew’s eyes shut and he lets out a shaky breath. “No. No, there’s no need. The whole marriage part isn’t real anyways. Right? It has an end date. No need to stir shit.”

Those words, the finality. It makes my chest pinch and twist. This is not how I expected this day to end.

“Oh, I see how it is,” I snap, moving away from him slightly. “This has an end date… So what am I then? Chopped liver?”

For the first time since bringing up Mitch, his gaze snaps to mine. “What? No. I mean, Coop, there’s no point in getting Mitch all riled up.”

I purse my lips and fold my arms across my aching chest. Of course I know this is completely reasonable and makes complete sense, but still, I want him to claim me. To tell everyone who he belongs to.

“Please don’t be upset,” he says, his voice wobbly. “He doesn’t need to know. It just makes everything so much more complicated than it needs to be, and I don’t think I could cope with it.”

I still won’t meet his eyes, even when he nudges his forehead into my neck, burrowing close to me.

I need to stay shielded, closed off, and yet with each press of his lips against my skin, I find myself cracking.

Just a little bit longer with him, I think. Just a little longer and then I’ll set him free and we can end this silly charade.

Nothing about this is silly though, not with the way I’m falling.

“Please don’t be upset with me,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

I should pull away for the sake of my already bruised heart, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it. No, I just lean into him, letting his lips burn and etch their way across my skin.

Matthew, it says.

His.

“Don’t be sorry,” I manage to say, even though the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “He’s your brother. It’s fine. He can come over here, and I’ll make myself scarce.”

“I don’t want you to be scarce,” Matthew says, but I ignore that comment. I’ll have to be, for both our sakes. If I’m around when he is anywhere in my vicinity, I’ll find myself wrapped around him.

And then what will Mitch do?

Nothing good, that’s what.

“Are you sure?” Matthew asks, and I nod, lying once more. I’ve never been more unsure about something in my entire life.

“When will he come over?”

“I’ll message and ask, see when he’s free.”

I nod and pick up my plate of food. When I finally take a bite, it’s cold, just like the stilted silence between us. And yet still, my body calls to him, craves him. So when we settle back on the couch inside, I spread my legs and let him crawl into that empty space, just like he did with my heart. My fingers slide up his shirt and brush across his warm skin as he fiddles with the channels on the TV.

I couldn’t care less about watching anything. I’m still trying to come to terms with Matthew wanting to hide what we are in our own home. The reasonable part of me understands, but the emotional side of me just wants to pout.

“What did you do today?” Matthew asks, turning his gaze toward mine.

I swipe my thumb across his nipple and feel it pucker under my touch.

“Nothing. Went for a run, stared at the floor, decided maybe we should redo it.”

“What? Why the hell would we do that? The floor is perfectly fine.”

I shrug and move to his other nipple, plucking at it gently until it’s a little nub under my thumb.

“I think I need a project, something to keep me busy.”

“Yeah, that would be good,” he says, his nose brushing against my jaw.

“I called your school, made a donation too.”

Matthew freezes. “What?”

“Made a donation to the school after speaking with the principal. May even volunteer there.”

Matthew’s eyes are wide, disbelieving. Well, he should know by now the things I’ll do for him.

“Why would you volunteer at a high school? Kids fart and wipe boogers on everything. That’s totally not your scene.”

I shrug and then run my hand down his stomach, feeling the muscles in his abdomen contract as I inch closer and closer to his cock.

“Well, I figured that perhaps I should do something good with my time. I can’t just sit around all day and shop online or eat artichokes on yachts.”

My fingers slip down beneath his waistband and brush the head of his dick. I feel him tense and then relax as I start to play with the tip of him.

“Yeah, you’re a rich, spoiled brat,” he grumbles as he arches up into my hand, wanting more. But I’m still mad about earlier, so I just torture him a bit. See if he keeps telling me this is temporary, that this will end.

See how he likes it when I edge him into oblivion. Keep dangling something impossible in front of him only to take it away.

See how he reacts.

My chest constricts as I continue to toy with him, wanting him a panting, leaking mess when I’m done with him. Want him to beg me to stay, to keep going.

“Cooper,” he whines, and I lick my way up his neck, capturing the lobe of his ear between my teeth. “Take it back. Take it back. Tell me how much you want me, how this isn’t ending, and I’ll let you fuck my face.”

He lets out a trembling groan as I slide my middle finger up and down the thick vein underneath his straining cock.

“Tell me, Matthew.”

He arches his hips up once more, tugging down his pants and pulling his cock all the way out. It bobs against his stomach, and I grip it in my fist, holding it tightly, but not moving. I just let it rest in the palm of my hand, let him see what he could have if he just admits what this is.

“Of course I want you. Can’t you see? It’s obvious,” he moans when he tries to thrust upward but fails.

“Say it then. Say, I want you, Cooper.”

He sighs and then leans his face back further. “I want you, Cooper. I want you so fucking bad.”

I let my wrist flick down and then up, causing him to tremble in my arms. And then a few seconds later, he’s turning, his body pressed into mine, his lips on my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine. The two of us moan, low and needy as we seek inevitable pleasure from one another. My cock is impossibly hard, greedy, wanting to feel his dick push its way inside of me, but of course I can’t ask that. I can’t possibly pressure him into something he isn’t ready for. But I can help him up onto his knees, and push his pants down further, guiding his dick into my mouth.

He gasps at the feel of me swallowing him down. He’s doubled over, one hand on the back of the couch, the other in my hair as he thrusts forward, making me choke and gag. And the entire time, my cock is leaking, jumping between my legs as I feel him use me.

I want him to use me so much that it becomes a habit, a drug to him. I want him as obsessed with me as I am with him.

“Fuck, Cooper,” he moans, his eyes screwed shut. “You feel incredible.”

I hum my agreement. He feels just as good to me.

“Fuck. Fuuuuuck.”

He jerks his hips forward and comes suddenly, shooting down my throat before falling to my side, his mouth eagerly seeking mine as his hand grabs on to my cock, stroking me lazily, bringing me to climax in a matter of seconds.

It’s too much, Matthew Morris.

You’re too much for my sanity.

You’re going to take me apart, piece by piece.

But fuck, he can have me. All of me.

Mitch decides to come over the very next day, which is annoying, to say the least. I expected him to hem and haw and come over a month from now, but this greedy fucker invited himself over today.

And I am not in the mood.

Mostly because Matthew has been nervous as hell. Not to mention the fact that I have to make myself scarce—even volunteered to do it so that Matthew wouldn’t be even more stressed over this damn dinner.

Which means that I’ve made my way down to a local bar on the boardwalk and have ordered myself a half a dozen drinks and a few appetizers. I don’t want to get in the way of dickbrain Mitch and his piss poor thoughts on people who live differently than him. Such a child, I think as I sip on my straw. A big man baby, one who can’t handle men being in love.

I snort and then flick my phone on, opening up the security cameras and taking a long look at Matthew and Mitch in my kitchen. They’re chatting, having a beer. Mitch looks around skeptically and Matthew runs a nervous hand through his hair. I want to be there with him, to pull him into me and tell this big brother of his off.

But I can’t.

He doesn’t want me there.

He told me again this morning.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He didn’t say that exactly. He just kind of looked at me desperately, and I knew what I had to do.

I took one for the team, like I said I would last night.

I sigh as I finish one drink off and move to the other. I really need to stop slurping these down. If I get arrested, that will go on my record and then I won’t be able to volunteer at the school.

I slow my sips and pick at my chips and salsa. Pretty damn good for a dive bar on the beach. I should come here more often. May have to if Mitch keeps making an appearance in our lives.

Better us than Beau and Max, I think as I rub at my tired eyes.

I’m finishing off my third drink when a man makes his way to the bar and slips in next to me, and I find myself eyeing him. He’s about my age and a little rugged, and if I wasn’t with Matthew, if I wasn’t pining over my husband at this very moment, I’d have offered to take him into the bathroom and blow him. But alas, my heart rests solely on someone else.

On my husband, for however long that lasts.

“Anyone sitting here?” he asks me, and I shake my head.

“Awesome sauce.”

My eyebrow arches slightly. “Listen, sauce man, can I buy you a drink?” I blurt instead, trying to be friendly. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone to chat with, and to be honest, I’m feeling a little pathetic. And the way this guy is wearing a ripped white t-shirt and blue jeans is kind of reminding me of the man I have back at home.

“Hell yes, I’d love a drink. That’s real nice, dude.”

I side-eye the man, with his blond hair and blue eyes. He’s very attractive in a redneck kind of way. What he’s doing here in this bar on the beach is beyond me. Then again, that is very biased of me.

“Sure thing. Dude,” I reply and then wave down the bartender. As this man orders his drink, I sip on mine.

“I’m Caleb, by the way,” the guy says, holding out his hand.

I stare at it and then shake it. He grips me far too roughly, and for a moment, I wonder what he’s trying to prove before shoving that thought away. This guy doesn’t scream toxic masculinity. Just an oblivious dude-bro.

“I’m Coop.”

“Nice to meet you, man. Love the earrings. You buy them at Costco?”

I stare at him and then shake my head. “No, these are real. I got them at a boutique in France.”

His eyebrows rise. “Yeah, my bad. Sorry about that.”

“No problem, happens all the time. So what brings you to town?” I ask.

“Who says I’m not from this town?” he asks, his eyes twinkling and then shoves me a little too roughly with his elbow. Kind of hurts, to be honest. “Just kidding, I’m not from here. I’m from the high desert. My husband is from here though. Kind of.”

Just as he says that, a man in all black appears, looking sleek and very put-together. The two of them couldn’t be more different, and yet when I watch them melt into each other, I realize they just work.

Like me and Matthew.

We don’t make sense at all, and yet here we are.

Well, here I am, at least. Not sure where Matthew is, to be honest.

“Did you get all the sand off you, babe?” Caleb asks the man, who I assume is his husband.

“I did not. God, I hate the beach,” the man grumbles, and I watch as Caleb nuzzles his face into the man’s neck, pulling him into his side and kissing up his jaw. Kind of like what Matthew does to me when we’re alone. What we could be doing right now, if he hadn’t kicked me out of my place so he could pretend I don’t exist.

“Are you mooching off people again?” the man asks Caleb and then eyes me.

I shrug and sip noisily on my drink. Hm, these are stronger than I thought.

“It’s fine, Mr. Mysterious Man In All Black. I just wanted a friend to chat with.” When the man’s dark brows meet, I wave my hand in the air. “Not trying to pick him up, I swear. I have my own husband at home.”

“Hm,” he huffs just as Caleb grins widely.

“This is Coop, Whit. Whit, this is Coop. Wait, I already said that, didn’t I?” He scratches at his head and laughs. “Coop, Whit. Whit, Coop. There.”

We both nod at each other, and then I ask Whit, “Would you like a drink? On me. I have more money than I know what to do with so it would be my pleasure.”

Whit thinks about it a minute before giving me a small nod. He waves the bartender over and orders an expensive glass of whiskey.

The most expensive, almost as if to make a point. Not sure what that point is, but I like him already.

What makes me giggle is that him and Caleb couldn’t be more different. Whit and his top-shelf whiskey and Caleb with his generic beer.

“So, you’re married to a dude too, huh?” Caleb says, not paying any attention to my giggles.

Whit’s hand settles on Caleb’s lap and squeezes. I wish Matthew was here to squeeze my leg.

“I am,” I say. “I am married to a man who is not gay, or at least says he’s not.”

Caleb lets out a laugh. “What? That’s crazy, bro. Tell me more.”

I sigh. “Seems we got married while drunk in Vegas. And now he’s living with me. Although we have kissed, and he has let me go down on him.”

Caleb leans into Whit and lets out a satisfied sigh. “I get that. Blow jobs from your husband are the best.”

Whit’s cheeks color and his eyes close.

“Caleb…”

“Come on, babe, it’s true. You have this way with your tongue. And like, I’ve never felt any teeth ever. Don’t know how you manage it. It’s a skill set.”

I groan and take another sip of my drink. Talking about blow jobs is getting me all hot and bothered.

“Yes, well, amen to that. But Matthew hasn’t given me any blow jobs yet, so it may just be a one-way street for the time being.”

Why I’m telling strangers about my sex life is beyond me, but here I am. I couldn’t be bothered to stop. Seems the drinks are making my lips loose.

Whit’s eyes assess me, dark and curious, almost as if he knows something I don’t. Sure would like him to share with me if he does.

“What?” I ask, taking another long sip of my fruity drink. “Don’t judge me. I can’t help that I’m obsessed with my man.”

Whit shakes his head. “Does your husband happen to have a brother named Magnus?”

My head pops up. “Yeah, why? Do you know them?”

Caleb still looks confused.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his head swiveling back and forth. “Why are we talking about Mags?”

Whit just looks at his husband and then dips his chin. “This is Magnus’s brother’s husband.”

“Huh?” Caleb asks, and Whit lets out a small huff.

“Magnus’s brother, Matt. Remember Sem told us about how they went to Vegas for Max’s wedding and Sem found Matt and another guy naked, covered in?—”

“Splooge,” Caleb gasps and then turns toward me, and the O of his mouth transforms into a Cheshire Cat smile. “You’re the dude.”

“That I am. The dude.”

Caleb leans over to me and pulls me into a hug. “Shit, Sem and I were talking about that for days. We have so many theories. Is it true that you don’t remember what happened?”

“Not a thing. Just that my ass was sore when I woke and that we both made a mess.”

Whit huffs another laugh and Caleb whoops, his hand slapping the counter loudly. “Fuck yeah. The best feeling, amiright?”

I nod and then eye Whit, who once again has his eyes closed. His cheeks are stained red. Must be a perpetual state being married to this guy.

“Well, I guess Matt deserved to be caught naked with another guy, especially with how he treated Mags.”

“Seems so,” I say and then take another noisy slurp of my drink. “Although, he has expressed how sorry he is and his desire to change. And to be honest, I think he means it.”

“He better,” Caleb says with a frown. “No one messes with my buddy.”

“He told me all about what happened with his brothers and Sem,” I say. “He says he deserved the punches.”

“He did. Sem should have done worse, in my opinion. Could have murdered him and I’d have helped bury the bodies.”

Whit’s eyes are open now and his empty glass is settled on the bar top.

“Jesus, do not tell people that.”

“Why? It’s the truth. I’d murder for you too, Whit.”

“Jesus, listen, we should probably go, Caleb.”

“Babe, come on. We just got here. I wanna go back on the beach, roll around in the sand.”

Whit’s nostrils flare and he eyes me. “I’m sorry. I need to speak to my husband. Excuse us for a moment.”

Whit stands and extends his hand toward Caleb. Caleb takes it, and then I watch as Whit pulls him toward the bathrooms.

Probably going to dissuade him from sand-rolling by blowing him in the bathroom. I would do the same thing. Anything to get what I want.

And what I want is Matthew, who is still with deplorable, annoying Mitch.

I pull out my phone and check my messages, frowning when I realize that nothing is there. No new updates, nothing that tells me when I can go home.

I sigh and place my phone back in my pocket. I should just throw it into the ocean for all the good it does me. Having one doesn’t make Matthew call me, doesn’t help him message. He’s about as unresponsive as any straight guy I’ve ever met.

Finishing off my last drink, I stand up, needing to use the bathroom. Perhaps after a pee and a walk on the beach, it will be time to go home. Maybe by then, Mitch will have had enough time to get over himself and leave.

Fucker.

I enter the bathroom stall and unzip my pants. The room is slightly off-kilter and I swear the walls are dancing. Probably drank more than I should have. Actually, I know I did. I drank like a fish coming out of water.

A low moan echoes off the walls and my dick tries to get hard mid-pee at just the thought of sex. The stream flickers away when I hear it again.

“Whit, oh fuck!” Caleb nearly shouts, and I roll my eyes.

Damn Caleb and Whit, getting it on in a public bathroom. I don’t even know them, but everything about them screams obsessed.

I wish I had someone that obsessed over me.

As I shake my dick and zip my jeans up, I peer under the stall and see an extensive amount of toilet paper under Whit’s knees. He apparently refused to kneel on a dirty bathroom floor.

Makes me fucking giggle.

As I wash my hands, Caleb gasps and I hear Whit moan. I really could do without hearing that right now. It just makes me wish that Matthew was that into me. I mean, he does sleep with me every night, and loves to be held. And the kisses are exceptional, but I don’t know if he likes me quite as much as I’ve come to like him.

I could ask him how he’s feeling, but the fear of being let down, of being disappointed in the answer deters me.

I’d rather live in sweet, drunken oblivion.

Ignorance truly is bliss.

These thoughts follow me down to the beach, my legs burrowed in the sand, my eyes closed, my head swimming. I should just sleep out here with the seagulls. Matthew wouldn’t even miss me, I bet. He’s too busy with Mitch.

Maybe I could make a nest and lay eggs.

Wouldn’t be half bad.

Cooper, the bird man.

I drift off, my mind reeling, my body just taking in the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. I don’t even know how long I’ve laid here, when suddenly I feel strong, familiar arms wrap around me and heft me up into the air.

My eyelids flutter open and I stare at a beautiful sight. Matthew. My Matthew. He came for me.

“What on earth are you doing lying out in the sand at this time of night?” he grumbles, shifting me in his arms and striding forward. “I almost didn’t see you with just your arms and head poking out.”

“Sigh. I’m just swooning at the fact that you’re carrying me,” I manage to say. Although, I’m not sure it comes out quite like I imagine. I’m finding words quite difficult at the moment. Stupid English. Why does it have to be so hard?

“You could have been murdered. Could have been swept away by the tide. And you didn’t even answer my calls.”

He seems grumpy, grumpier than normal, so I nuzzle into his neck and kiss my way across his skin.

“Doesn’t matter. You never answer my calls either. Karma.”

Matthew huffs out a laugh and then shifts me again in his arms. It can’t be easy, carrying me, but he does it. Those strong arms cradling me. Fuck, he’s so sexy. I stood zero chance when I first met him. I should have known this would be the outcome.

“I would have been so pissed if you’d gone missing. If I never saw you again.”

I don’t even respond, too busy biting my way across his neck.

“Next time, just come home,” he says.

“You were with meanie Mitch.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gone now.”

“Hmph, good. He’s ruining my happy place.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matthew asks as his feet finally hit the pavement. I hope it takes him ages to get home. I just want to stay like this, cradled in his arms.

“It means that you were ashamed of me, so you sent me away.”

The thought of it has my eyes watering and my nose clogging. Damnable drinks. I don’t want to be this vulnerable, and here I am blubbering.

“Fuck no. That’s not what happened. What happened is I was trying to protect you. If Mitch came after you, I couldn’t protect you. That’s all. I just wanted you safe.”

I sigh and sniffle, hating that he is being so rational. I want a reason to feel sorry for myself. He’s sure not making it easy. Damn stupid man.

“Fine, well, don’t ever send me away again.”

“I won’t. I promise. Mitch is happy now that he’s seen where I live, but we can talk about it more later, when you’re not so fucking drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I’m inebriated.”

“Same thing,” he says with a laugh. I hear the telltale sound of the doorman greeting us and then Matthew sets me down on my feet. Stupid floor. I hate it. I don’t want to use my legs, they’re not working anyways.

“Pick me back up, husband,” I grumble as I sag into him. “This instant. I can’t fucking walk after being carried like a princess like that. My legs are holding a revolt.”

Matthew grumbles and then suddenly freezes, his hands clenching into fists against my lower back.

Through swimming eyes, I catch sight of someone in the distance, someone very much like Matthew, but also so different. Bigger, more ominous.

“Fuck. Mitch is here,” Matthew says roughly.

Well, this can’t be good.

“I can take him,” I slur as I try to find my footing but end up stumbling into Matthew once more. He rights me, not letting me fall, and I’m so thankful that without thinking, I press a kiss to his jaw. It’s only when he pulls away from me, instead of leaning in like he usually does, that I realize my mistake.

Mitch must have seen that.

There’s no way he didn’t.

“What the hell is this?” an unfamiliar voice says, low and slightly demeaning.

I squint at the man looming over us and feel Matthew pull me in closer.

“Mitch, I thought you left.”

The man shifts on his feet, his hands bunched into fists. He looks wild, rugged, a lot less like Matthew right now. “I did, but I forgot my fucking phone at your place.”

“Right, um, well, I can get it for you.”

Mitch hesitates, his eyes sliding toward me and then back to his brother.

“Is this your roommate?”

“Yes, I’m his roommate,” I announce and then let out a small snicker. I should be more afraid of this guy, but I can’t quite help feeling amused by all of this. Matthew went through all of that to protect me and Mitch was lingering in the shadows the whole time.

So much for sending me away. Fat lot it did.

“I am his very gay roommate,” I add with a laugh and then stumble back.

Mitch’s sour gaze meets mine, and he folds his arms across his chest. Oh my, he has very big arms. And so does Matthew. He swoops me up and carries me toward the elevator.

“Where the hell are you two going?” Mitch calls after us.

“To bring him upstairs and to get your shit. I’ll be back in a minute.”

As soon as the doors close behind us, I nuzzle back into Matthew, feeling safe and warm.

“I drank too much,” I tell him. “I probably need water.”

“Yeah, you do. Fuck,” he murmurs as he carries my ass into the bedroom. He settles me on the bed before pulling my shoes off, sand pooling on the ground as he does. He sighs, muttering under his breath and then sighs again when he realizes that I’ve gotten myself stuck in my shirt.

“I will live here now,” I say, the fabric getting sucked into my mouth.

“Jesus, Cooper. No more drinking. I swear. No more.”

“I had six. Drinks, that is,” I tell him and then fall back onto the bed, completely naked. God, the freedom I feel right now. Having to live inside my shirt would have been dire, indeed. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what I’m apologizing for. But I’m sure I need to.

“It’s fine. Fuck. I’ll be back,” he tells me. I can feel him hesitate and then he leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. I sigh happily from just being touched by him, and then a moment later, he’s gone.

I turn into my pillow and bury my face in it.

And a second later, I’m asleep.