22. Matty
Chapter 22
Matty
I PULL TO a stop sign, and once I make sure no one is behind me, I bang my head against the steering wheel.
What the actual fuckety fuck am I doing ?
Do I like her? Is doing this in secret a good idea, or is it the absolute worst idea in the history of worst ideas?
Probably the latter.
A honk sounds behind me, and I straighten and keep driving, waving my hand in apology to the extremely irate old lady who is now—what the hell? —speeding past me and flipping me the bird?
Really?
That’s what we’re doing this morning?
I’m too stunned to do anything but laugh, and ooh, boy, this woman is displeased. Her frown deepens and she waves her middle finger to and fro, hitting the gas and whipping in front of me.
Guess I’m the asshole this morning in more ways than one.
I swing back to my house to grab Killer before heading to the clinic, spiraling all the way. Even Killer’s sweet little face licks can’t pull me out of my worries.
I need to figure out if I really like Goldie the way I liked Dawn.
But she is Dawn.
The whole thing is still a bit of a mind-fuck. And I can’t get last night out of my head. The way we came together, wrapping around each other in the safety of the dark. The way we actually came together.
I can’t believe I’ve had video sex with my best friend’s little sister.
I can’t believe I came last night with my best friend’s little sister.
Jesus. I really am a walking romance novel right now.
The problem is, I’m not sure I’ve got a happily ever after waiting for me. What if we try this, and we flame out? I’m super boring, and Goldie is the exact opposite. She’ll tire of me eventually. Probably faster than eventually. What happens to my relationship with Willa? Sure, she’s got Reid now, and that’s been an adjustment, but Willa—hell, her entire family—they’ve been such an integral part of my life. What if I lose that? Because it’s not like my own mom and dad are over there waving and yelling for me to come over and get cozy. They left this town the second I graduated high school, fleeing like they’d robbed a damn bank. And the years leading up to their departure weren’t that cuddly to begin with.
As if on cue, Willa texts and invites me to dinner with her and Reid that night.
I drop Killer off with Liv and watch him sniff around, then curl into his cushy kingdom behind the reception desk. Honestly, that dog has a better life that me. I can guarantee that I would not get the kind of love and attention he does if my head was shaped like an apple, I shook almost constantly, and my cream-colored hair was almost see-through.
Reid knows something is up when I arrive at their house that night. The second Willa leaves the kitchen to go to the restroom, he pulls his Investigator Reid hat on and turns on me.
“What is going on with you, man? Is it Dawn?”
I flinch, and Reid sees it.
His eyes narrow. “Talk to me. What’s going on? We’ve not caught up since the masquerade thing. Did she like Cowboy Matty?”
I swallow. Boy, did she ever. “Yeah. It was, ah, it was great.”
Reid lifts a single eyebrow. “It was great ? The hell does that mean, great ?”
“It means it was great! She’s great.”
“So what’s happening now? Have you seen each other since?”
“S-sort of,” I stammer.
“Explain.”
“I…”
I’m saved by Willa coming back. She takes one look and gestures between us. “Um, what’s going on here? And don’t say?—”
“Nothing,” Reid and I answer simultaneously.
She crosses her arms. “Guys.”
Reid laughs. “Seriously, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t believe either of you. It better not be something about my birthday. You know I don’t like surprises.”
“I would never let a birthday surprise happen to you,” I promise. “You know that. Besides, your birthday is forever away.”
She twists her lips and studies me. “It’s about the girl, isn’t it? You better not have told him more than you told me, Matthew James Brodigan.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Reid steps into her line of sight, and I swear I nearly fall to my knees to kiss the man’s feet right then. I don’t know if he’s been subjected to Willa’s particular brand of questioning, but it involves an impressive layer cake of guilt, threats, jokes, and things that seemingly have nothing to do with anything, until suddenly, bam . She’s got you.
And I cannot be subjected to her tonight.
She harrumphs. “You’re lucky I like both of you. And that I’m not cooking. Because otherwise, I’d stop cooking and you two would be left to fend for yourselves.”
I smile. “You know, ever since Reid got here, I don’t think that threat is nearly as effective as it used to be.”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “Whatever. Come on, let’s go hang out in the living room while my sweet boyfriend cooks us all dinner.”
“With pleasure.” I hold my arm out for her to take, then look back at Reid as we leave the kitchen. “ Thank you,” I mouth.
“You owe me,” he mouths back.
My stomach clenches at the thought. This is the guy who was undercover with a drug cartel for two years, after all. I have a bad feeling he’s got some seriously creative ways to get stories out of me.
But I hold strong all night long. I stick to my guns when he glares at me when Willa’s back is turned, and I hold firm when she starts to doze on the couch and Reid walks with Killer and me to my car.
“You’re keeping something from me,” he pouts. “Why won’t you tell me?”
I sigh. “Would you believe me if I said it was for your own good?”
“Probably not.”
“Too bad, because guess what? It’s for your own good.”
“I don’t think I like you very much right now,” he huffs as I start the truck.
I roll the window down and hold my hands out for Killer. “Hand over the chihuahua.”
He cradles the tiny dog against his chest, then gives him a smooch on his head. “Cute little thing. I should keep him until you start telling me what’s going on.”
I consider him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
He hands Killer over. “I would.”
By the time I get home and feed the dogs, the cats, and Hedgie, I’m no clearer on what to do than I was at the beginning of the day. I need someone to talk to, and normally it’d be Willa.
Clearly, there’s the tiny matter of a conflict of interest happening there.
Goldie hasn’t sent me any messages today. Maybe she’s just as messed up about all this as me.
When I finally get to bed, all I smell is Goldie.
What would James do?
Sighing, I sit up in bed and pull up the Blinding Love app.
Good night,
I don’t send it. Good night… what? Good night, Dawn? Good night, exclamation point? Good night with an emoji? “Send something , asshole,” I mutter. Finally, I delete the comma, add a period, and send the damn text.
James
Good night.
Her reply comes moments later.
Dawn
Sweet dreams
Satisfied I’ve not completely fucked this up, I blacken the screen and roll over. When I finally fall asleep, I dream about Goldie.