Chapter 5 #2
Jordan laughs, light and genuine. “Okay. You two are so cute.”
The doors slide open, and she steps into the penthouse first. “I’m gonna find Matty,” she says, turning back to me briefly. “It was so good to meet you, Alley.” With that, she beelines to the right, leaving me to scrape my jaw off the floor as my eyes take in the space.
“Oh my God,” I say, spinning to take it all in. “This is where Matt lives?”
Jensen scoffs. “Yeah. And this is only the first floor.”
The penthouse is spacious, with an open floor plan that’s oozing with luxury.
Glass lines every exterior wall from floor to ceiling, offering breathtaking views of the city.
The design is modern with a distinctly masculine edge—flawless decor, sleek surfaces—a true bachelor’s pad, and big enough to house a family of eight.
The sliding glass doors to the terrace are open, heat lamps glowing in every corner, inside and out.
Jensen grabs my hand, guiding me through the throng of impeccably dressed guests to find Matt.
We step onto the terrace, and my mind continues to reel at the level of extravagance.
There’s a hot tub, multiple fire pits, plush furniture, a fully stocked wet bar, and even a large plunge pool. Who lives like this?
We approach a small group: a strikingly good-looking guy, who I assume is Matt, along with Jordan and another couple.
“Jensen!” the guy calls out, his grin lighting up his face.
“Hey, brother!” Jensen replies as they embrace in a brief, back-patting hug.
As soon as they pull apart, Matt turns his attention to me, his smile warm. “You must be Alley,” he says, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. “I’m Matt. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Feel-goods spread through me as Matt’s words sink in, a smile tugging at my lips. I hug him back, pleasantly surprised that he’s heard so much about me. As I step back, Matt waves over a cocktail waitress. Yes, there are actual cocktail waitresses.
A woman strides toward us, dressed in a sexy number—black bra, high-waisted cheeky bottoms, thigh-high socks, a garter belt, and heels.
She’s beautiful, and Matt doesn’t hold back.
His arm slides around her waist, flashing a flirtatious grin.
“Hey, gorgeous, mind grabbing drinks for my friends here?”
It’s… a lot—cringe-worthy, even. I’m not sure if it’s jealousy, discomfort, or just the surrealness of being at a party this over the top, but something makes me shift on my heels.
Maybe it’s knowing Matt is acting exactly like the player Jensen said he is.
Or maybe it’s the way I feel so out of place—like a small-town girl who’s accidentally wandered into the dazzling, chaotic world of Manhattan high society.
“What are you two drinking?” Matt asks, his eyes flicking between Jensen and me.
“I’ll have a scotch, neat,” Jensen says easily, glancing at me. “What about you?”
I’m not a big drinker. I only indulge socially, and even then, I have strict rules: a two-drink max and never hard liquor.
I’d actually be fine to never drink at all, but I hate the peer pressure that comes with it.
People get weird when you say you don’t drink, and it doesn’t get better with age.
So, to avoid the awkwardness, I play along.
The truth? I don’t even like drinking. Deep down, I’m terrified of turning into my dad.
It’s a fear that keeps me in check, steering clear whenever I can.
“What beers do you have?” I ask, praying he has a dark beer.
Matt rattles off a list of craft beers, IPAs, and stouts—names I don’t recognize but nod along to anyway.
“Any stout will be fine,” I tell the waitress. “Surprise me.”
“Ah, a dark beer girl. You don’t come by that very often,” Matt says.
Jensen had the same reaction when I ordered a Guinness on our first date. Stouts are the only alcoholic drink I actually enjoy.
As soon as the waitress turns away, Matt’s arm wraps around Jordan, pulling her into him. She responds in kind, sliding her arm around his waist, the other drifting up to rest on his chest.
I try to act natural, like I’m not completely thrown off. What is this? Some kind of modern-day Playboy mansion, with Matt as a young, real-life Hugh Hefner? One thing’s for sure—this is definitely shaping up to be a night I won’t forget.
“So, Alley, are you from here?” Matt asks, his focus now on me.
“No, I grew up in Chicago.”
“Chicago? What brought you to New York?”
I shrug lightly. “I just wanted a change, honestly. New York appealed to me, and I always dreamed of living here when I was a kid.”
“Well, good for you. Following your dreams,” he says with an easy grin. “I love Chicago. I’ve got a few friends and business connections out there.”
His smile is so genuine, it catches me off guard.
I’d pegged him as someone who wouldn’t even bother with small talk, let alone ask personal questions.
I figured he’d be one of those guys who only talk about themselves, maybe throw in a brag or two for good measure.
Turns out, there’s more to Matt than I expected.
“Matt has friends everywhere,” Jensen chimes in.
“What business takes you to Chicago?” I ask.
“I’ve looked into investing there a few times. I almost partnered with a buddy of mine I met at a conference a few years back. He’s a big name in Chicago, so if I ever do branch out of New York, it’ll most likely be with him.”
As soon as he says this, my gut tells me he’s talking about Leo. I grin, unable to hold it back. “Is it Leo Weston?”
Matt’s head jerks back in surprise, his shocked face almost making me laugh. “Shit! You know Leo?”
“Yeah, Leo’s basically family to me. He’s one of my brother’s best friends from college.”
Matt laughs, still looking floored. “No way! Who’s your brother? I’ve met a few of Leo’s friends.”
“Michael Evans. He owns…”
Matt cuts me off, his hand going up like I’ve just dropped a bomb. “The chef? Get out of here! Michael’s your brother? I’ve met him a few times. Leo’s taken me to his restaurant. His food is exceptional. He’s an excellent chef.”
My smile grows as I glance at Jensen, who’s watching us with mild amusement. This is bizarre. “That’s crazy! What a small world.”
Matt chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. “The world actually gets much smaller the older I get. It’s wild how often this kind of thing happens.”
Jensen exchanges a glance with Jordan, who’s been quietly sipping her drink, then turns to me. “See, I told you… Matt knows everyone.”
Matt shakes his head, grinning. “The Chef’s little sister. I can’t wait to text Leo about this.”
I cock a brow. “Well, maybe I’ll get to him first.”
Matt laughs. “No chance! Come here. We’re taking a picture and sending it to him right now.” He hands his phone to Jordan. “Babe, can you take a pic?”
I shoot Jensen a look, making a face and shrugging, while Matt wraps an arm around me like we’ve been best friends for years. Jensen’s grinning from ear to ear, and I smile as Jordan snaps the photo.
“I’m sending this to him immediately.”
Before I can respond, the cocktail waitress arrives with our drinks, and Matt’s attention shifts to someone across the terrace.
“Excuse me, guys. I’ve got to go say hi to someone.”
He scurries off, leaving us with Jordan, whose attention is short-lived when a group of girls approach her.
I turn to Jensen, a smile plastered to my face. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close. “I think Matt approves of you.”
I laugh softly. “You think?” I meet his gaze, and my stomach does that stupid flutter thing it always seems to do when I’m close to him. “Your friends are great. I’m not going to lie, I was nervous to meet Matt. With what you’ve told me… I didn’t expect him to be so… I don’t know, nice.”
He chuckles. “He plays the field a bit with women, but he’s honest, loyal, and genuinely a good guy. He’d do anything for me. Hell, he’d probably do anything for you now, too.”
I glance around at the people mingling inside and on the terrace. I laugh softly, feeling silly for ever being intimidated, and kicking myself for watching too much TV.
Jensen raises a brow. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s stupid, really.”
“Come on, tell me.”
His eyes lock on mine, and something about the way he looks at me makes me feel safe, like I can say anything without being judged.
“It’s a little embarrassing, but… I thought the people here were going to be pretentious assholes.
You know, like a real-life Gossip Girl party.
And while the party is very Gossip Girl, the people are not. ”
He bursts out laughing. “Shit. No, we’re nothing like that. I can’t say there weren’t parts of high school that felt like it, though.”
I grin, cocking a brow. “I’m surprised you’ve seen that show.”
His brows shoot up. “Not by choice. My girlfriend in college was obsessed with it. I was forced to endure many episodes.”
I laugh. “I actually pictured Matt being like an older Chuck Bass. But he’s more like an older Nate Archib—”
I’m cut off by Jensen’s lips, his tentative kiss silencing me. One hand cups my face, his thumb grazing my jaw as his tongue softly strokes mine. It’s tender and sweet but hot as hell, and it sends butterflies shooting straight through my core.
I kiss him back, not caring, once again, that we’re in the middle of a crowd. It’s so not like me, but with Jensen, God, I feel confident—like I’m stepping into this bolder version of myself.
He breaks the kiss, grinning, his dimples cutting deep into his cheeks. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You’re too fucking cute, Alley.”
Taking my hand, he leads me to a sofa on the terrace, where we lose ourselves in conversation for the next two hours. Occasionally, we’re interrupted by friends stopping by to chat or a cocktail waitress offering drinks.
I’m on my second beer, savoring it. The initial buzz has worn off, but it’s fine. I don’t need it anymore, the nerves of being new have completely faded. Everyone I’ve met tonight has been great, and I feel at ease.
We’ve settled under a blanket as the night has gotten colder. Between the fire pit at my feet, the heat lamp beside me, Jensen’s warm body next to mine, and the blanket, the crisp air feels refreshing against my face.
The conversation quiets, and I take a moment to soak in the scene.
The city lights stretch out from Matt’s terrace, the fire glows softly, and Jensen’s strong frame presses comfortably against mine.
One arm is wrapped around me, and I sink into his chest. His other hand rests on my leg, his thumb brushing soft strokes along my bare thigh.
A distracting pulse builds low in my core, stirring a craving that’s hard to ignore.
I notice Jordan and Matt through the glass windows inside, locked in what looks like a heated conversation.
Her brows are furrowed, and she looks upset.
Matt leans closer, trying to console her, his hand sliding to her waist. Before I know it, they’re lip-locked, kissing, his arms wrapped around her, hers hooked behind his neck.
I break the silence, nudging Jensen lightly. “What’s going on over there?” I ask, nodding toward Matt and Jordan.
Jensen breathes out a chuckle. “Oh, they always do this. Anytime Jordan’s around, Matt gets all possessive. They’ll end up in bed together tonight. It happens every time. They’re sort of friends with benefits, but honestly? I think they’re in love with each other.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Matt would probably settle down if she gave him the green light, but he’s too damn stubborn to admit that, even to himself. And Jordan plays it off like she’s fine being the occasional hookup, but come on—she cares more than she lets on. I think they’re both full of shit.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting.” I try to wrap my head around a relationship like that, but it feels so complicated. “I don’t think I could ever do that.”
Jensen squeezes my thigh, his touch steady and reassuring. “No?”
“No. It would mess with my head too much,” I say, grateful Jensen seems so different from Matt when it comes to dating and relationships. At least, I hope he is. It’s strange how little I actually know him, yet I feel like I’ve known him forever.
His fingers inch upward, tracing small, deliberate circles that burn into my skin with every stroke. The warmth of his touch grazes the hem of my dress, and my heart skips a beat.
I’m positive I’m ready to sleep with him, but there’s a nervousness I can’t shake. I haven’t been with anyone since my ex and I broke up almost a year ago. The thought both excites and unsettles me.
My hand instinctively reaches for his—whether to stop him or encourage him, I’m not sure. A rush of anxiety floods my senses, tingling through me in waves, rising to my throat and tightening my breath.
“Alley,” he says softly. My stomach flips as I turn to meet his gaze, his blue eyes intent, his breath warm against my cheek. “Do you wanna go back to my place?”