30. Goldie
Chapter 30
Goldie
I T’S MATTY’S NIGHT to come to my house, and I’m finishing up a grilled cheese sandwich and salad at my kitchen table when my phone dings.
Reid
Come get your boy
I stare at the text, a vague sense of dread beginning to creep up. I type back with unsteady fingers.
Goldie
???
Matty fessed up.
“Holy crap,” I whisper. Then I reconsider. Reid’s a crafty guy. Maybe this is just his way of ferreting out the truth. Deciding to admit to nothing, I simply repeat my text.
Goldie
???
Cut it out, Goldie. Come to Hall’s Balls and I’ll give you the rundown.
“Well, shit,” I say to my kitchen.
omw
My hands shouldn’t be shaking as badly as they are, but they clearly didn’t get the memo. Neither did my legs, because shifting gears in the Jeep is not nearly as smooth as normal.
Ten minutes later, I pull into the Hall’s Balls parking lot. I see Matty’s truck, and then there’s Reid’s. And Ox’s.
Good Lord. What am I walking into?
I check my reflection in the rearview mirror. I’m flushed and I look like I’ve been called to the principal’s office.
Considering that’s exactly how I feel, I’m not surprised.
Yes, I’m twenty-six. And apparently, my people-pleasing tendencies are in full bloom, because right now I want to run and hide until whatever all this is blows over and no one is mad at me anymore.
I blow out a breath. Here goes nothing .
I find Matty at the bar between Ox and Reid, with Anthony as bartender like always.
Matty must see something on Anthony’s face, because he’s the first to swivel around. His smile is sweet and unfiltered…for about two seconds. Then his expression falls, and Reid and Ox turn as one.
“Uh, hi guys!” I try really, really hard to sound as normal and unaffected as possible.
“They know.” Matty’s words are a little fuzzy. “I spilled all the tea.”
“Piping hot, too,” Ox jokes, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.
I study all of them, flitting my gaze to Anthony as well. As usual, his expression gives nothing away. “Okay.” I draw the word out. “Everyone knows.”
“They know,” Matty repeats.
Reid stands. “He can’t drive.”
I nod, feeling like I’m missing something crucial.
“Give her your keys, yeah?” Ox says softly, tossing bills onto the counter with a nod at his brother.
“Don’t act like you care.” Matty’s voice is ice cold. Then he closes his eyes and exhales, seeming to reset and try again. “I’m not wasted. Of course I’m not driving, but you don’t have to act like I’m fragile.”
Even still, he pulls his keys out of his pocket and hands them to me. I toss them in my tote.
“This is staying between us.” Reid looks at me meaningfully.
“Willa?” I ask.
“Doesn’t know—unless you’ve told her.”
I shake my head.
“Between us,” he repeats.
Something isn’t right. I’m missing something, and it’s making me feel like a complete fool. Fighting back tears that have no business showing up and that will absolutely not make themselves known to these men, I draw my shoulders back and beam at Matty. “Ready?”
He nods, and I turn without another word.
I wait for him to climb into the Jeep, then circle around and get into the driver’s seat. I start the engine and pull onto the road, unsure what to say. Matty reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Anytime.” I smile and glance at him, finding him watching me.
He reaches for one of the rubber ducks and holds it up for display. “When did you get this one?”
I look over and see it’s wearing a black cowboy hat. Matty holds it near his face and flashes me a cheesy grin. “Do we look alike?”
I smile, the tightness in my chest dissipating instantly.
I love him.
It’s so clear. So painfully clear. Somehow, the knowledge makes whatever happened with Reid and Ox bearable. But I can’t tell him. Not right now, when I’m driving and he’s not sober.
“Definitely,” I answer, clearing my throat and focusing on the road. “Like twins.”
He grins happily, then puts the duck back on the dashboard before placing a warm hand on my leg.
At Matty’s, I hand him his keys and we head inside for the regular routine: put the dogs out, feed the cats and hedgehog, let the dogs in and feed them.
My chest twinges. All of this feels so…domestic.
“So.” I lean against the kitchen counter. “Hall’s Balls is where all the good stuff goes down, huh?”
Matty blows out a breath and rakes a hand through his hair. “Something like that, yeah. Let’s sit?”
I follow him to the couch, both of us taking up what’s become our standard positions: him on one end, me on the other, my feet in his lap, his hands massaging my feet.
“Reid figured us out during that walk on the pier.”
I hiss in a breath. “Damn. But he hasn’t told my sister?”
Matty shakes his head. “Nope.”
If keeping this secret causes trouble with him and Willa, I’ll never forgive myself. But I don’t say that out loud. “We have to tell her.”
His hands still but stay wrapped around my foot. “You’re right.”
My whole body is tense. Why does this feel so huge? She’s my sister. She’ll be happy for us. “Together. We tell her together.”
He nods and exhales. “Okay. Reid cornered me in a text with Ox.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Yep. You know how those two love to gossip. Reid threatened to say who it was in the text, but I knew it was better if I told them both face to face.”
“You met them at Hall’s and, how’d you put it, ‘spilled the tea’?” He dips his chin, and I continue. “Why was everyone so weird when I showed up?”
He winces. “Long story?”
I narrow my eyes. “Explain.”
He digs a knuckle into my arch, a move so good that my eyes roll into the back of my head. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmurs. “What matters is that the secret’s out, and we’re going to tell Willa.”
I want to press him, but his hands feel so good on my feet that I can’t be bothered. When his hands move farther up my legs, kneading and massaging, I care even less.
He stands and leans down to pick me up, one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back. I squeal and wrap my arms around him. “Let me take you to bed, Goldie.”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes, please.”
He undresses me with reverence, taking each piece of clothing off and following it with lingering kisses. He divests himself of his own clothes, and when he settles between my legs, the delicious weight of him on top of me, he kisses me like there’s no tomorrow. He tunnels a hand through my hair possessively, his other flexing and grabbing me like I’m going to float away.
After he’s brought me to orgasm with his mouth, he pushes into me slowly, every inch a decadent torture. His eyes never leave mine, his hips thrusting and swirling as though trying to wring every last emotion out of me. The entire experience feels different, as though he’s broken through some kind of barrier.
“Fuck, Golden,” he whispers as I come. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
It takes everything in me not to tell him I love him.