Exposed - Chapter 17
Sunday
Matt
I felt better when I was around my friends. It was easy to laugh and pretend that everything was normal with them.
But as soon as I left James’ place, it felt like there was a knife in my chest. Slowly twisting. I gripped my steering wheel tighter and made a turn that didn’t head back to Tanner’s.
I needed some time alone. With the old Brooklyn. The one that actually loved me. I couldn’t go to Empire High or the graveyard. The real Brooklyn had shown up to both of those places. I felt bad about what I’d said to her. But I wasn’t ready to apologize yet. I was still so mad at her.
Mad that she’d moved on. Mad that she hadn’t given me a chance to explain 15 years ago. Mad about all the time we’d lost. Mad about her son. I shook away that last thought.
I wasn’t mad that she had a child. I was curious, though. I wanted to meet him. I wanted to see if he looked like her. I wanted him to like me.
She said he was four. Scarlett and Sophie would be four soon. The three of them could hang out. It kind of all…fit.
But what if I saw her kid and just saw her husband? What if it was hard to look at him without feeling like Brooklyn betrayed me? Yeah, I just needed some time to calm down. I needed to talk to the version of her I remembered. Not at Empire High and not at the graveyard. I only had one other place.
I pulled up outside my townhouse. I hadn’t been there in weeks.
My real estate agent, Bill, said the place would go fast, but I hadn’t heard from him.
Maybe it was a harder sell than he imagined.
Or maybe someone had seen my “serial killer lair” as Tanner put it, and it scared potential buyers off.
That’s why I was here tonight. My room where I painted was where I felt closest to her.
It wasn’t that long ago that I’d fallen asleep on the hardwood floor in my studio, wishing she could still be alive.
I’d gotten my wish. So why did it still feel like it was hard to breathe?
I walked up the stairs and unlocked the front door. I was greeted by the aroma of freshly baked cookies. I smiled and took a deep breath. It smelled like my mom’s kitchen. I glanced into the family room where there was all new furniture. There were even some toys strewn on the floor.
I told Bill it was a family home. That I wanted to sell it because it wasn’t meant for me anymore.
It seemed like the stagers he hired had leaned in a little too hard to that vibe.
But I just stood there, smiling. Because I could picture it.
I wouldn’t allow myself to before. But I could picture Brooklyn here.
I could picture a whole family with her in this house.
I exhaled slowly. I’d already agreed to sell it. And I didn’t know what kind of house Brooklyn would want. But she’d lived on a lake for years. She might not even want to live in the city. I couldn’t imagine leaving my family and friends and moving somewhere else though.
And I wasn’t even sure why I was thinking about any of this.
I wasn’t sure if anything about Brooklyn and me made sense anymore.
We were so different from who we were in high school.
That’s why I was here. To talk to the old her.
The one that made sense in my head. The one that didn’t yell at me whenever I tried to talk.
I’d grown really used to her listening to my pain.
Not throwing it back in my face. Not saying her pain was greater.
That wasn’t fair. She said I didn’t understand.
But I did. I lost her. It didn’t matter that she was back. I lost the her I knew.
I walked toward the stairs and froze when I heard a noise in the backyard. It sounded like something scratching across the stone patio.
My heart hammered against my chest as I walked over to the back door. I opened the closet to grab something to use as a weapon, but it was empty. Because Nigel had taken all my stuff from the house. I cursed under my breath as I heard the noise again.
Honestly, I hoped it was an intruder. I was pretty sure I’d feel better if I got to punch something. I threw open the door and stepped out onto the patio, ready to attack whoever was back there. But my breath caught in my throat. “Brooklyn?”
She let go of the huge pot she was trying to move and spun around. “Matt? What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing dirt across her face. “This is my house.”
“No, this is my house.” And why the hell was she in it?
“What?”
I looked over at the planters she’d dug up.
And the tree that she’d repotted in a pot that was too heavy for her to move herself.
Why was she here? Why was she messing up my yard?
Why hadn’t she shown up during the last 16 years when I’d wanted her to?
And why had she started showing up now when I just needed one second to myself?
I looked over my shoulder. Fuck. Had she seen the paintings of her? I felt like I was going to throw up. I didn’t want her to see them and think I was sick in the head. Tanner called it my serial killer lair for a reason.
“You weren’t supposed to see this,” I said.
“See what?”
“Any of this.” The family house I built for her without realizing it. This wasn’t for her now. This was for who she used to be. It was for a ghost. She wouldn’t even fucking want this now. She wanted Miller. Not me.
“I’m sorry, Tanner said it was available…” her voice trailed off.
Fucking Tanner. I’d forgotten that he bought Bill’s real estate company. That’s how he’d gotten Kennedy back to New York City. So he’d set this all up to… Put a family that didn’t need me into my house? Was this some kind of cruel joke? I was going to kill him.
“Did you see it?” I asked.
“See what?”
“Don’t play dumb, Brooklyn.” It was like something snapped inside of me.
She couldn’t be here. Not here. This was the one place I didn’t want her.
She was going to think I’d lost my mind.
And hadn’t I? I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless.
But I also wanted to lift her over my shoulder and carry her out of my damn house.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you so upset?”
“Because you robbed me of half my life, Brooklyn!”
She glared at me. “What exactly did I rob you of? Because I didn’t get to finish high school in person. I never got to go to prom. Or graduation. I never went to college. I never got any of those experiences. You got all of it.”
“And you think I enjoyed any of that without you? You’re making me out to be a monster. But that’s you, Brooklyn. You chose a kidnapper over me. You’re the fucking monster here.”
She slapped me. I should have expected it. She’d done that earlier. But now that we weren’t in the middle of Central Park, my reaction to it was a lot different. My dick stirred from the heat on my cheek. I couldn’t even help it. I’d obsessed over her for years. And now she was here.
I was pretty sure she felt the way the air had just shifted between us too. Because instead of hurling more insults at me, her eyes fell to my lips.
I pushed her backward, caging her in against the side of the house. “Hit me again. I dare you.” I wanted her to. I just liked when she touched me. Her skin on my skin made me feel alive.
“Matt…” her voice sounded as broken as I felt.
I slammed my lips against hers. I was so fucking mad at her for everything she’d done. And this was the only way I knew how to make it better. To feel closer to her. I bit down on her lip hard, but she just kissed me back. Like she wanted to feel my pain.
I palmed one of her breasts through her sweatshirt. Probably a little too hard. But I just needed to touch her.
She didn’t seem to mind though. She just stood up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss.
I needed this. I needed her. But there was a nagging thought in the back of my head.
What if this was the only way we fit now?
Hurting each other and then fucking that hurt out of our systems. I didn’t know how to stop hurting.
I’d meant what I’d told her the other day.
She’d ruined my fucking life. And a part of me just wanted to ruin her back.
I found her nipple through the fabric and tugged it.
So hard it probably hurt her. She should have been begging me for forgiveness. Not fucking torturing me.
She moaned as she hit her fist against my chest. Like she wanted to hurt me too.
Didn’t she realize she’d already done enough of that? But she could hit me as much as she wanted. She could slap me a thousand times if that’s what she needed. Hell, I wanted her to hurt too. To make her feel as badly as I felt. But that wouldn’t make it better. Only this would.
I grabbed the waistband of her leggings to pull them down, but I ended up ripping the material.
She gasped as I grabbed her thighs and hoisted her up.
We’d fought a lot back in high school. And this was always how we made up.
Well, not exactly like this. I was gentle with her back in high school.
But she wasn’t the same girl. And I was done treating her like she was perfect.
I’d put her on a pedestal for half my life.
But she didn’t belong there. She belonged right here with me.
And I was done showing restraint with her.
I pushed her thong to the side and thrust inside of her, not bothering to warm her up. “Does that hurt, baby? Now you know how I feel.”
She moaned.
Of course it didn’t hurt. Because despite what she said, she still wanted me. She still needed me. And she was fucking soaked. Greedy for my cock like always. Maybe she’d decided I wasn’t what was best for her. But her pussy still wanted me.
She buried her dirty hands in my hair, pulling me closer.
I kissed her like her breaths were the only sustenance I needed. I was greedy for her. I wanted her naked in my bed so I could kiss every inch of her skin. So I could remember what I’d been missing. But right now, I just needed to stop hurting.
I slammed into her harder, not caring if her ass was scratching against the stone wall. God I loved the weight of her perfect ass in my hands. I didn’t want to ever let go.
I closed my eyes like I always did when I fucked.
And I realized I did that so I could picture her when I was with other women.
But I didn’t need to imagine her right now.
I opened my eyes and stared down at her.
I half expected her to have her eyes closed.
Imagining she was fucking her husband. But she was staring back at me.
I dropped my lips to her ear. “Did you ever think about me like this when we were apart?”
She moaned.
“Did you miss my mouth on your sweet pussy?”
“Matt…”
“Did you miss my cock? It really feels like you missed it, baby.”
She moaned, the sound reverberating through her, making her clench around my cock.
Fuck. God, I’d missed this. Nothing felt as good as being deep inside of her.
“I thought about you when I jerked off in the shower. I pictured you on your knees. You were frozen forever at 16 in my mind.” I kissed down the side of her neck, her skin pebbling from the sensation.
“Picturing you like that? I’m fucked in the head. ”
Her fingers dug in to my back like she couldn’t get close enough. She liked that I’d pictured her on her knees all these years. She liked having a hold on me.
“Nothing turned me on like the images of you in my head. You’re not the monster. I am.” I kissed her neck and then sucked on it hard, marking her. “You’re mine, Brooklyn. You’re fucking mine.”
She tightened her legs around my waist.
“Say it.”
She just moaned.
“Say that you’re mine. Say it.” I tugged on her nipple again as I slammed into her harder. Fuck, how had I ever lived without this girl? How had I kept going?
The anger was suddenly gone in my chest. Fucking didn’t help. Everything still hurt. She wasn’t mine. I dropped my forehead to hers as I slowed my pace. Slowly in and out. I remembered us like this. Making love tangled in my sheets. My ring on her finger.
Say it, baby. Please just fucking say it.
I slowed my pace even more. Savoring her warmth. Savoring her wetness. Savoring how perfectly she gripped my cock. Just savoring this moment. Because I knew moments were fleeting.
“I’m yours,” she whispered against my lips.
I exhaled slowly. She was still mine. I ran my hand down her baggy sweatshirt until I reached her bare skin. “Say it again.” I ran my thumb across her clit as I slowed my pace even more.
“I’m yours, Matt.” Her voice cracked.
I pressed my lips against hers, tasting the salt from her tears. I knew I’d pushed her. I knew it was hard for her to say those words. But I’d never heard anything so sweet. I eased my grip on her thigh, knowing I’d been holding her too tightly. And I ran slow circles along her clit.
Her lips fell from mine as she lost control, her pussy pulsing around me. Her moans were distorted as I kissed her again.
Fuck. I was wrong. Hearing that she was mine wasn’t the sweetest sound. This was. I forgot what her soft moans sounded like when she came. And now that I’d heard it again, I never wanted to stop hearing it. I kept circling her clit with my thumb.
“Matt…I can’t…”
“You owe me 16 years of orgasms, baby.”
She laughed, tightening around my cock.
“Fuck.” I dropped my mouth to her neck again, sucking on her skin as I lost control. Shot after shot of cum exploded right into her sweet pussy. Where it belonged.
Her moan sounded strangled as she dug her fingertips into my shoulders. She shook in my arms as she came again.
I placed a soft kiss against the bruise that was already forming on her neck.
She pulled me tighter. Our chests rose and fell together as I held her in my arms. Being with her felt like being home. But it was also like we were strangers. It didn’t have to be that way though. She’d loved me once. She could love me again. I just needed to let her in.
“I missed you so much,” I said.
“I missed you too.”
I didn’t put her down. I stayed buried inside of her as I kissed her again. Slower this time. Like how we used to kiss. Like we had all the time in the world. Like we were 16 again and had our whole lives left.