Chapter 28
From Viral Kiss to Viral Mess…
I knew I shouldn't, but after an hour of pacing my living room like a caged tiger, three very serious arguments with Karen, and one heated debate with my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I'd officially lost my fight with self-control.
I'd been staring at my laptop for three hours, scrolling through comment after comment until the words blurred together into one endless stream of poison.
Too fat for him… What does he even see in her… She's lucky he's slumming it... He could do so much better...
Karen chose that exact moment to hop onto my coffee table and fix me with her most withering stare. Her green eyes seemed to say, "Really, Brooke?"
"Don't look at me like that," I muttered, not taking my eyes off the screen. "You don't understand people drama."
She flicked her tail dismissively and knocked my water glass over with one perfectly manicured paw, as if to say, "I understand stupidity when I see it."
Our wrestling arena kiss had gone viral overnight, and honestly, I was about as prepared for internet fame as a goldfish is for a marathon. I'd seen the video on social media. It was actually pretty cute. We looked happy, caught up in the moment.
But the comments section? That was like stepping into the seventh circle of internet hell.
Hundreds of them, each one a tiny digital dagger finding its mark with surgical precision.
I'd made the catastrophic mistake of reading them all, every single brutal assessment of my body, my face, my apparent worth as a human being.
By the time I'd reached the bottom, I felt like someone had performed emotional surgery on me with a rusty spoon.
Karen positioned herself directly between me and my computer, her body creating a furry barrier. I tried to reach around her, and she batted at my hand with her paw, claws retracted, but the message was clear.
"Move, Karen. I need to read these."
She responded by sitting down more firmly and beginning to groom herself with exaggerated nonchalance, as if my emotional breakdown was merely an inconvenience to her grooming schedule.
Matt had been texting me all day. Good morning, beautiful. Then later, Everything okay? You're being awfully quiet. And finally, an hour ago, Brooke, please talk to me. I knew he'd seen them. There was no way to avoid them.
I'd started to type responses a dozen times, but what could I say? That I'd discovered exactly what his fans thought of me? That maybe, they were right? That I was tired of being the punchline to some cosmic joke where the gorgeous, successful wrestler somehow ended up with the chubby café owner?
My phone buzzed again, another text from Matt. I didn't look at it. Karen, however, seemed to have developed a sudden interest in the device, pawing at it curiously.
"Even you think I should answer him, don't you?"
She gave me a look that clearly said, "Obviously, you dramatic fool," before turning her back to me in the universal cat gesture of disdain.
Instead, I pulled my laptop closer and did the thing I'd been avoiding all day: I Googled myself. Karen immediately relocated to sit on the keyboard, her torso covering half the screen.
"Karen, move!"
She opened one eye and gave me a look that said, "Make me." I tried to gently lift her, but she went completely limp, all twelve pounds of dead cat weight.
"You're not helping," I told her, managing to navigate around her to see the search results.
They were worse than the comments on Instagram and TikTok.
Fan forums dissecting every photo from last night, Reddit threads debating whether I was 'using him for his money' or if he was 'going through some kind of phase.
' Someone had even made a side-by-side comparison of me and some blonde on his arm at an event, a model who looked like she'd been carved from marble by angels.
Karen started purring loudly and rubbing against my face, smearing her fur across my tear-stained cheeks. My breathing slowed as I scratched behind her ears.
"You're still not forgiven for knocking over my water," I mumbled, but she just purred louder.
I buried my face in my hands. The rational part of my brain knew I should call him and explain what was happening.
But the rational part had been steadily losing ground to the voice that whispered maybe everyone was right.
Maybe I was fooling myself. Maybe this whole thing had an expiration date, and I was just too pathetic to see it.
The sharp knock on my apartment door made me jump. Karen, startled from her purring, shot me a look that clearly blamed me for the disturbance before stalking off to her cat tree with wounded dignity.
For a moment, I considered not answering. It was probably Davina coming to save me from spiraling, but it was too late.
"Brooke? I know you're in there."
Matt's voice hit me like a physical blow. I sat frozen on my couch, heart hammering. He was supposed to be in Los Angeles, filming some commercials. He wasn't supposed to be here, seeing me like this, red-eyed and puffy-faced, wearing pajamas that had seen better nights.
Karen decided this was worth investigating and sauntered over to the door, sitting primly and staring at it as if she could see through it.
"Please open the door," he said, and I could hear the worry threading through his voice.
I shuffled to the door, catching sight of myself in the hallway mirror. I looked exactly as terrible as I felt. Karen followed me and now sat beside me, her judgmental gaze moving between me and the door.
For a moment, I considered telling him I was sick, that I'd talk to him tomorrow. But when I looked through the peephole and saw his face, worried, tired, still wearing the same clothes he'd probably traveled in, I couldn't do it.
I opened the door.
"Jesus, Brooke." He stepped inside immediately, his hands reaching for me. "Are you okay?"
I wanted to fall into his arms, to let him hold me until the hurt went away. But all I could think about were those comments.
"I'm fine." I stepped back. "I was just… busy."
Matt's eyebrows drew together. "Busy?" He was dressed casually in dark joggers and a black hoodie that somehow made him look even bigger and more perfect than usual. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in LA, flexing for cameras?"
He stood silently for a long moment, like he was contemplating his answer, while Karen wound around his legs like she was trying to trip him. "When you didn't answer any of my calls or texts, I called the café. Davina answered."
"And let me guess, she told you that I was probably at home spiraling."
His gaze flashed to my open computer screen. Karen had positioned herself directly in front of it, as if she were trying to block his view too. "Looks like she was right." He strolled past me and closed the computer, earning an approving meow from Karen.
"I wasn't going to read them."
"But you did?"
I nodded miserably. "I couldn't help it.
It was like watching a car crash, except the car was my self-esteem and the crash was my face.
" My shoulders sagged as a mix of emotions washed over me.
I was embarrassed by the comments, but also embarrassed that I'd given in and read them.
I was sad and hurt and suddenly self-conscious around him.
"Brooke…"
"Matt, I'm fine. Really. You didn't have to fly back here."
"You're not fine." He reached for my hand. "And I know this because I wasn't fine the first time it happened to me."
My gaze shot up to meet his. "You? What could they possibly have to say about you? You're like... genetically perfect. You're what happens when good genes have a successful meeting."
He laughed. "They criticized everything. My nationality, my height, my wrestling skills, my long hair, my brown eyes, the way I breathe, probably. It drove me so crazy I almost stepped away from it all."
"But you didn't."
"No, because a friend showed up at my door and closed my laptop. He told me there's always going to be someone who doesn't like me, but that was none of my business."
I blinked. "None of your business?"
"Nope. You will never be able to make everyone happy. You are never going to be enough for everyone, and that's okay." A slow smile spread across his face. "Because you are enough for me."
Karen let out the loudest, most satisfied purr I'd ever heard from her, as if she was saying, "Finally! I've been trying to tell you this all day, you ridiculous human!"
Despite everything, I found myself laughing, really laughing, for the first time all day. "I think Karen approves of your speech."
Matt grinned, reaching down to scratch her ears. "Smart cat. I like her."
Karen preened under the attention, then fixed me with one final judgmental look that clearly said, "Keep this one, you fool. He has good taste in cats."
"I'm sorry." He pulled me into a hug that felt like coming home. "I know you didn't sign up for this level of internet scrutiny. Honestly, I had no idea that kiss would turn into a viral sensation. I thought maybe fifty people would see it."
"The paparazzi are outside my apartment now, aren't they?"
"Yeah. There are about six of them arguing over who gets the best angle of your front door."
I sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to ignore the way his thumbs were tracing small circles on my hips through my pajama top.
"Well, I'm not sure how to handle all of this.
I'm not a center-of-attention type of girl.
I'm more of a 'hide behind the coffee machine and hope no one notices me' type of girl. "
I paused, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the soft fabric of his hoodie. "But I fell for a center-of-attention type of boy." I smiled. "So I guess we'll figure this out together. Maybe Karen can be our social media manager."
Something shifted in his expression then, his eyes darkening as they dropped to my lips.
My breath caught in my throat as his lips lowered to mine.
His hands moved from my waist to cup my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones with a tenderness that made my chest ache, and then his mouth was on mine.
This wasn't like our other kisses, sweet, tentative, getting-to-know-you kisses. This was desperate, hungry, full of everything we'd been holding back. His lips moved against mine with a passion that made my knees weak, and I found myself gripping his hoodie to keep myself upright.
He tasted like his favorite energy drink and something sweet, and I couldn't get enough. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing mine, and I made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
"God, Brooke," he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with want. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
I could feel the evidence of his desire pressed against my hip, and it sent a bolt of electricity through my entire body. "Matt," I breathed, my hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.
He groaned at the contact, his hands sliding down to my waist again, pulling me impossibly closer. "I love it when you say my name like that." His lips moved to trail kisses along my jaw. "Like you need me as much as I need you."
"I do," I whispered, my head falling back to give him better access to my neck. "I do need you."
His teeth grazed my pulse point, and I gasped, my body arching into his.
"Those people online," his voice muffled against my skin, "they don't know you.
They don't know how you make me laugh until my sides hurt.
They don't know how you look when you're concentrating on latte art, or how you hum when you're happy.
They don't know how you taste, or how you feel in my arms, or how you make me feel like I'm home. "
Each word was punctuated with a kiss, and by the time he pulled back to look at me, I was breathless and wanting.
"They don't know," he continued, his forehead resting against mine, "that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Inside and out. And they sure as hell don't know that I'm completely obsessed with you."
I pulled his face down to mine, kissing him with everything I had. This time, when we broke apart, we were both breathing hard, and I could see the desire burning in his eyes.
"So, what do you say we order takeout, ignore the internet, and let Karen judge us for our life choices like a normal evening?"
"Best idea you've had all day," I said, and for the first time since this whole mess started, I meant it. "Wait. What about LA and filming?"
"We wrapped up filming, and I took the next flight out. I was supposed to make an appearance on The Late Tonight Show, but I rescheduled due to a family emergency."
I laughed. "Internet bullying hardly qualifies as a family emergency."
"No, "he kissed my forehead. "But you, not answering my calls, and me thinking you're going to break up with me is."
"You thought I was going to break up with you?"
"No interview, commercial, or any amount of money is worth losing you."
My heart fluttered. "Breaking up with you was never a thought. Crawling into a hole and hiding for the next decade? Yes. Moving to Ireland and changing my name? Also, yes… but never-ending things with you."
"Good."