Chapter 4 Matt #2
Charlie’s eyes widen in surprise, and I get it.
Fuschia is a choice. He shrugs and wipes his fingers on the napkin I gave him.
“It is a Valentine’s party.” He plucks at his sweater.
“That’s why I’m wearing red.” He points to my shirt.
“I’m assuming it’s why you’re wearing red, too.
” His face scrunches up again. “Wait, are you hiding from him?”
I sigh. “I was. But now that I’ve had something to eat, I probably could handle meeting him again and not have it turn to shit. At least on my part.”
“Fair. Okay, you get a pass. But that guy?” He pops a mini quiche into his mouth and moans. “God, that’s so good. I wish I could cook like this.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I wish you could cook like this too.”
Grinning, he nudges my boot with his. “Shut it. I do fine, and I don’t hear you complaining when it’s my turn to make dinner.”
“I will never complain about not having to cook. You could serve the ramen that’s in those freeze-dried bricks at the dollar store and I’d be thrilled that I didn’t have to make them.”
Charlie rolls his eyes and gnaws on another riblet. “I need this recipe.”
“It’s my Aunt Sarah’s, but I’m happy to share it with you.
” We both look up, and it’s obvious Charlie and I have the same shocked expressions on our faces, because Attractive-Aggressive Guy is right there, grinning and pointing between us.
“Okay, that’s amusing and slightly disturbing. Please tell me you two are related.”
Charlie wipes his fingertips on his napkin and holds out his hand. “Yeah, I’m Charlie and this is my brother Matt.” I’m not sure if I’m glad Charlie is breaking the ice for us or if I’m feeling betrayed by how nice he’s being.
The guy turns to me, and my heart pounds in my chest and my cheeks warm as he holds out his hand. “Hi. I’m Jake Butler.” Jake has the decency to look embarrassed. At least now I know his name and can stop calling him Attractive-Agressive Guy. “I believe we’ve already met once.”
“You could say that. Or, you could say I stood there while you yelled at me for no apparent reason.” I try to make my tone light, but since Charlie chokes on whatever bite of food he shoved into his mouth, I’m guessing I didn’t quite succeed.
He shoots me a warning look and shakes his head slightly, which is his way of telling me to cut it out.
I raise my eyebrows, because what does he expect me to do?
Jake winces. “I deserve that.”
“I’m sure that came out ruder than Matt intended.” I want to stare open-mouthed at my brother, but don’t. Points for me. “Especially to Lee’s best friend.”
Oooooooh. Well, shit. That changes a few things. Guess I should tread more carefully.
Jake shakes his head. “No, I really do deserve that. And probably more.” He grins ruefully at Charlie.
“You should have seen me. I was in rare form.” Charlie grins back, and it’s annoying.
Are they flirting? Jake shrugs. “In my defense, not that there is one, I thought you were Asshat Matt, who works with Lee. She has since informed me that Asshat Matt is someone else, and you are Nice Matt.” He drops his chin and looks up at me through his lashes.
I ignore the fluttering in my chest. “Look—I’m very sorry I acted horrendously by pointing, and going off at you.
I’m sure you were embarrassed by my outburst, and I really have no excuse for making a spectacle of myself in the middle of the coffee shop and dragging you into it.
Maybe you can forgive my awful behavior and we can start over? ”
My anger had already started to fade under the onslaught of Jake’s stupid charm.
Now the remaining annoyance dissipates. I try to stay angry, but looking into his twinkling brown eyes, I can’t manage it.
Instead, I smile at the handsome jerk. “It was pretty awful, but I suppose Lee wouldn’t be best friends with an asshole.
“ Charlie chokes again, but I don’t look away from Jake.
Charlie will be fine. And if he’s not, we’ll notice pretty quickly. “So, sure. We can start over.”
Jake’s grin lights up his whole face. As if he needs any help being more attractive. “Wonderful.” He thrusts his hand out at me. “Hi. I’m Jake Butler. Arts Fundraiser, Lee MacDougall’s best friend, and very definitely not an asshole.” He winks at me. “At least not often.”
That makes me laugh. “Hi, Jake, I’m Matt Ward. Potter, caffeine addict, and also not an asshole.”
“There you are.” Lee wanders into the kitchen from the living room, and I’m not sure which of us she’s been looking for. She slips her arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “Did you try the cheesy potatoes?”
He nods vigorously as he swallows the last mini quiche and wipes his hands on the napkin before slinging an arm around her waist. “Yes! I need all these recipes. Including Aunt Sarah’s mini ribs, if you were serious about sharing it.”
Jake holds up a hand like he’s swearing an oath. “Completely serious. She’ll be thrilled you liked them so much.”
She glances between Jake and me. “So I’m assuming since you two aren’t scowling at each other, or worse, that Jake apologized and explained his misunderstanding?”
Before Jake can reply, I beat him to the punch.
“He did, but the explanation was a bit light on details.” Jake feigns shock and I shrug.
“What? You said you thought I was Asshat Matt, but you didn’t say who Asshat Matt is, or why you thought that was me.
And you certainly didn’t tell me what it is you thought you knew. ”
Charlie sits up. “Yeah, what’s that about? It sounds like juicy gossip.” His grin screams meddling older brother, but since it’s working in my favor, I let it go.
Lee clears up the first question. “Asshat Matt is someone I work with who keeps taking my ideas to our boss and claiming them as his own.”
“What?” Charlie’s tone clearly communicates his outrage, but if there was any question, his expression backs it up one hundred percent.
I completely agree with him. “What an asshole.”
Jake snorts. “I believe you mean asshat. Hence the name.”
“But why did you think it was me? I was minding my own business.”
Jake’s face flushes pink enough to rival his shirt. “Well, I’ve never actually met the jerk, obviously, or I’d have known you weren’t him. But you fit his general description.”
“I do?”
Lee’s grin is like the cat who got the cream, to steal a phrase from my mom. “I believe what I said was something along the lines of Matt is very good-looking, and too bad he’s such an asshole because he’s very much Jake’s type.”
Which means that I’m very much Jake’s type, if I’m accurately reading between the lines.
I raise an eyebrow at him, and his blush gets worse—or better, if you’re into that.
And I am. Soooo into that. He shrugs in a what can you do?
kind of way and it’s charming. I should hate it on principle, but I can’t work up that particular reaction.
My dick, on the other hand, is incredibly charmed by this unapologetically outspoken man and is considering making that completely clear to everyone present.
“So, that was enough for you to assume I was him?”
“No! I’m not that reactionary.” Lee’s eye roll says she begs to differ.
He points at her. “I’m not.” He turns back to me and starts ticking things off on his very elegant, long fingers.
“One,”—I wrench my gaze to his face and stop imagining what those fingers could do to me—“you ordered a triple venti, half-caf, soy, no foam, sugar-free vanilla latte with light whip and cinnamon sprinkles. It’s a very specialized order.
” He holds up a second finger. “Two, the name for that particular drink was Ainslee.” He gestures at Lee.
“She’s my bestie. I’ve ordered that for her a bajillion times.
And three, you are named Matt and weren’t wearing a coat, though you were dressed in business casual attire—the dress code at Lee’s office—which is just down the block from French Press.
” At my frown, he clarifies. “You said, and I quote, ‘I only have to go a few doors down the block.’” He finishes with his arms crossed over his chest and a defiant look on his face, like he’d just proven the answer to one of those Millenium Prize math problems and he’s daring me to contradict him.
“Okay.“ I slowly draw the word. “On the surface, those seem like plausible reasons to possibly jump to the conclusion that I was Asshat Matt.” It’s still a leap, in my opinion, but at least I can understand the thought process. “I’m assuming you meant the idea-stealing when you said you were on to me?”
Jake’s expression is sheepish. “Yes.”
“Well, I can agree that’s a shitty thing to do to someone, so I understand the anger. I just wish you’d maybe asked me who I was before going off on me.”
He looks horrified at the suggestion. “It would have totally ruined the delivery!”
I snort and give up. I can tell Jake doesn’t like to lose, so I’ll be the bigger person here.
Because I’m nice like that. Not because he’s really attractive and I’m thinking with my dick.
At all. Much. “Well, I did say we’d start over.
And you did give us an explanation, even if it’s shaky.
” His mouth drops open and he presses his hand to his chest, affronted, but it only makes me laugh.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Fine. Truce.”
“Truce.” His eyebrows come down from his hairline and his shoulders relax. “I am sorry. And I’d love to make it up to you.”
Is it bad that my brain goes right to weighing his tone for any sexual innuendo?
Yeah, it’s bad. But in my defense, it’s been over a year since anyone has shown the slightest interest in me.
And not because I haven’t been paying attention, which is what Charlie keeps telling me is happening.
He insists people are flirting or checking me out when they clearly aren’t.
I love him for it, but it’s not accurate. “Um, okay.”
Jake’s entire expression lightens and his brilliant smile is back. “Okay?”
“Sure. Within reason. What did you have in mind?”
He puts a hand to his chest. “I am nothing if not reasonable.” I hold back my laugh. That’s a bold-faced lie, and we all know it. Including Jake, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
“Clearly.” Only a little sarcasm creeps into my voice, and I’m very proud of that.
Charlie stands. “Well, that’s our cue to get lost.” He grabs Lee’s hand. “Come on, introduce me to more of your friends. I’m a good-looking single guy all alone on Valentine’s Day. Maybe someone will have pity on me.”
I shout after them. “It’s not Valentine’s Day until next weekend!” Charlie waves my comment away as he and Lee enter the dining room.
Jake sits in Charlie’s vacant seat. “So. What sorts of things do you like to do?”
I blink at him, trying to figure out why he’s asking me this. “Um, make pottery?”
“But isn’t that what you do for a living?” Jake looks utterly confused and it’s adorable.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. Or I wouldn’t have wanted to do it as my career.”
He takes a moment to consider this. “Fair. And to be honest, it does seem like loads of fun. Messy, for sure. But still fun.”
I nudge his foot with mine. “You’ve never made anything out of clay? Not even as a kid?”
He shrugs. “Not that I recall. I’ve been to one of those paint your pottery places, but that and Play-Doh are as close as I’ve come to any clay art of my own.”
“We should fix that.” I have no idea why that lights a fire in me, but I desperately need to see Jake forearm-deep in clay slip, those long, sexy fingers pressing and pulling the clay.
Or maybe the clay is a substitute for me, because that’s exactly where my mind goes next, and goddamn, my cock loves that idea.
There must be something in my voice because Jake’s gaze snaps to mine and his pupils expand rapidly.
“Yeah. We should.” There’s a moment of silence where we stare into each other’s eyes, and my entire body shivers with the delicious tension in the air.
He shifts closer. “How about sometime this week? I could take you to dinner as an apology. I at least owe you that. And then we can go to your pottery place and you can show me what to do.”
I smirk. “Do you like being shown what to do?”
His grin is instantaneous, and wicked, and sweet Jesus. I want to grab him by the front of his pretty, pink shirt and slam my mouth against his pretty, pink lips. “Depends on who’s doing the showing. Think you’re up for it?”
“Oh, I’m up for it. Are you?”
He stands and leans in until our noses are almost touching. My pulse rate shoots through the roof. “Any time. Any place.”
Jesus fucking christ. “How about Tuesday evening? Say, maybe seven o’clock? I can pick you up at your place, or we can meet at whatever restaurant you pick. And after, we’ll go to my studio and I’ll show you how to throw pots.”
He smirks. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Throwing pots?”
“Sure, if that works for you.”
His eyes sparkle with humor and arousal. “Then it’s a date.”
“I thought it was an apology.”
He chuckles, and it does things to me. Good things. Things I haven’t felt in a long time. “It’s an apology date. It could turn into an apology anything after that.”
Like apology sex? My cock is rock hard now because yeah, that’s hot as fuck. I don’t say it out loud though. “Guess we’ll have to see where things go.”
He holds out his hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll put in my number and we can firm up plans.”
“Smooth.”
He smirks. “I know. I’m kiln it.”
I groan. “Oh, that was baaaad. And so original. I’ve never heard that one before.“ I roll my eyes exaggeratedly. “You’re obviously glazed and confused. Maybe you should lay off the puns.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, open the contact app, and place it in his open palm.
“I thought you’d come up with something clay-verer than that.” He enters his name and phone number and texts himself. Or at least I assume he does since his pocket vibrates. He hands the phone back, and I slip it into my pocket again.
The swinging door between the living room and kitchen bursts open and four people rush in, heading straight for the table.
Jake and I give them room to maneuver. The mood is broken and it’s probably for the best. I just met Jake, and I’m not looking for a hookup.
I’m at the point in my life where I want more than that.
I jerk my head toward the dining room. “Should we see what Lee and Charlie are up to?”
It’s clear he feels the change in mood, too. He gestures toward the doorway. “That’s a mug-nificent idea. After you.”
Groaning, I head for the dining room, already planning our Tuesday date.