Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
JORDAN
Matt’s acting weird.
Not obvious weird. Subtle weird. The kind only me and maybe Jensen would notice.
I expected him to be a little off right now. Anyone would be. But this feels like more than grief or stress. More than worry about Cole. It’s like he’s holding something back.
He was fine for most of the drive back to his place, joking, flirting, typical Matt. Then, about halfway there, he went quiet. And somehow, that made everything feel awkward.
Matt doesn’t do awkward. He’s the most confident son of a bitch I’ve ever met. He knows how to navigate every situation, and does it with the effortless grace of a king.
He’s grieving and under pressure. So maybe it’s nothing.
But still, I’ve never seen him like this.
“The Silver Oak Napa Valley Cabernet,” our server says, pulling me from my thoughts. He angles the label toward me, waiting for approval.
I give a slight nod. “Looks great.”
He pops the cork and pours a small taste. I swirl the glass before bringing it to my lips, letting the warm, full-bodied liquid coat my tongue. Comfort and sophistication, with undertones of cherry and hints of vanilla and cocoa. It’s a favorite of mine. Matt’s too.
An approving smile ghosts my lips. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
He fills my glass halfway before pouring Matt’s, then leaves the bottle on the table. I inhale deeply before taking another sip. Yep. It’s good.
Matt’s in my line of vision. He got caught in a conversation on the way to the restroom. Some guy I recognize from a past life of ours. Business, I think.
The restaurant is dim and moody, soft jazz playing in the background. It’s the kind of place that makes you sit up straighter without realizing why. My favorite way to be wined and dined.
Matt finally tears himself away and disappears into the bathroom. My eyes fall back to the menu, landing on the salads.
Rabbit food.
A grin tugs at my lips. Dick.
A couple minutes later, my gaze tracks him as he makes his way back, dodging servers and looking fucking incredible.
I really should have slept with Alexander when I had the chance.
Being here with Matt in Chicago, at dinner, heading back to his place, feels like old times. Makes it feel normal.
But it’s not old times. And it’s anything but normal.
Especially in the middle of one of the longest sexual droughts of my life.
It’s hard enough not to cross the line I’ve drawn with Matt. But being here as his friend, someone he can lean on during one of the hardest moments of his life, when emotions are already running high?
It’s a dangerous place to be. A vulnerable one.
I let out an audible exhale, my original thought circling back. Why is he acting weird?
Matt slides into the chair across from me. “Sorry. Ran into a buddy I worked with years ago. You remember Clyde. He was at my birthday party a few years back.”
I smile. “Yeah. I remember. I knew he looked familiar.”
The server returns, and I order a salad with beets and goat cheese while Matt orders his roadkill: a medium-rare ribeye, just like always.
Once we’re alone again, he reaches for his wine and takes a sip.
I wait for his rating.
He doesn’t give one.
Matt always comments on the wine.
Okay. Something’s definitely off.
I’m just about to ignore the voice telling me that he’ll talk to me when he’s ready, and simply ask him what the hell is going on, when he breaks the silence.
“So… how’s work?”
I almost laugh.
I love my job, and I could talk about it all day.
But work? Now? His cousin died a week ago.
He was in court yesterday. Cece just got temporary guardianship.
I’ve been looking forward to having this time with him, to catch up and connect, even if the reason I’m here isn’t ideal. There’s so much to talk about.
But if he’s not ready for anything with substance…
Then surface-level it is.
I indulge him. “Work’s good. I start that new account next week. I have to go to the Hamptons for a couple days. My pappoús said I could stay at the beach house while I’m there, so I’m excited about that.”
“That’s great,” he says. “The Wolf account, right?”
I love that he always remembers the little details of my life.
“Yeah. What about you? Anything new on the Switzerland project?”
“Nothing that you’d be interested in hearing about.” He shrugs. “But I have to go to Zurich in a few weeks.”
“Oh, no. Not Zurich again,” I tease, a smile playing on my lips. “Sucks to be you.”
A hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn’t quite get there.
“Yeah. I just…” He trails off, then exhales.
“I have to meet with the attorney they assigned to Cole sometime in the next month. Don’t know when yet.
He’s supposed to contact me next week to schedule a time to come by the condo. ”
“Oh.” I pause. “He comes to your place?”
“Yeah.” Matt grips the back of his neck. “He’ll make sure my place is fit for a twelve-year-old boy. Grill me with questions. Compare me to Cece.” Another breath slips out. “It’s nerve-wracking.”
“Damn,” I say softly. “That’s intense.”
The energy shifts suddenly. Matt’s brows furrow, his gaze dropping to the table, lost in thought. The few minutes of normal we just had evaporate, replaced by the same stiffness I felt earlier. The weirdness.
I lean forward. “Hey… is something wrong?”
“Other than the fact that my cousin just died and my godson’s stuck with the Wicked Witch of the West when he should be with me?
” He frowns, then takes another sip of his drink, bigger this time, setting the glass down with a soft gasp.
He licks his lips, eyes fixed on the wine. “You talk to that guy this week?”
“Who? Alexander?”
His eyes lift to mine. “Yeah.”
“A few texts.”
“Oh.”
Oh my God. This is brutal.
The week has clearly taken a toll, and if sitting through an awkward dinner with Matt is what he needs right now, I’ll roll with it.
But holy shit.
The chitchat continues. He asks about my family. I ask about his friends here, and by the time our food arrives, I’m ready to pull my hair out. Not because I can’t talk about normal stuff with Matt, but because he so clearly needs to talk about something and won’t.
I stab into my salad, but Matt just sits there, hand wrapped around his wine glass, staring at…
I follow his line of vision. The candle?
He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t acknowledge his steak. Just… stares.
I take a bite and chew slowly, watching him.
Finally, he lifts his glass, drains the rest of his wine, and sets it down a little too hard before shifting his gaze to me.
“I have to tell you something. Or… I have something to ask you.”
Relief pours through me. Thank God. Finally.
“I’m all ears,” I say.
There’s a beat of silence. Then, “Uh…” He huffs out a laugh. “Fuck. I don’t know how to say this.”
Jesus Christ.
“Matt,” I shake my head. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know you can tell me anything.”
He lets out a crazed chuckle. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I was about to say.”
“Oh my God,” I groan. “Just say it.”
He tips his head back, drags both hands over his face, and mutters, “Christ.”
I press my lips together, holding his gaze. Waiting.
“I, uh…” He swallows. “I sort of told my lawyer I was getting married.”
My jaw drops.
“Like in the next month,” he adds quickly. “It’ll apparently help my case. Gives me a better chance of getting custody of Cole.”
The words bounce around in my brain as I try to make sense of them.
I can’t.
Instead, laughter bubbles out of me. “Oh my God! Seriously? Who’s the lucky lady? I know you’re mad I didn’t invite you to my wedding, but I hope I get an invitation because this I have to see.”
He stares at me, deadpan. “You.”
I reach for my wine, taking a sip I don’t need. “Funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.”
My stomach dips, then twists when he doesn’t so much as smile. His gaze stays locked on mine as I peer over the rim of my glass, waiting for the punchline that never comes.
I clear my throat, the silence stretching thin and uncomfortable. I have no idea what to say, so naturally, I default to humor. “Can we at least elope to a Caribbean island? I’ve secretly always wanted to do that.”
“Jordan. I—God. I know it’s crazy, but I’m serious. I told my lawyer I was planning to get engaged. When he asked who my girlfriend was, I’d already mentioned you, and how Cole knows you. I just… sort of blurted out your name. Told him we’re together and could get married within the month.”
My brain short-circuits.
What the hell is he saying?
“Well,” I say slowly, grasping for logic, “obviously you’ll just have to tell him that you’re not getting married.”
There. Problem solved. I shake my head in disbelief and stab at my salad again.
He shakes his head harder. “No. My lawyer told the judge I’m in the process of establishing a two-adult household.”
“Okayyy.” I blink at him. “So tell your lawyer it was a mistake. You were nervous. People say stupid shit all the time when they’re under pressure.”
“I was in court. On the record.”
“Ever heard of a breakup?”
His face softens. “Jordan. Please. This could help me get Cole.”
My fork slips from my fingers, clattering against the plate.
Oh my God. He’s actually serious.
“What are you saying?”
He clears his throat, eyes dropping to the table before lifting back to mine. “I’m asking if you’ll marry me. Temporarily. Just for a few months.”
My throat goes dry, heat flashing through me as all the blood rushes to my chest. “You’re… serious.”
He nods once. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But you’ll—”
“You know it’s a lot to ask?” My voice shakes despite my effort to keep it steady. “This isn’t just an ask, Matt. This is… God, I don’t even know what this is. It’s—it’s crazy!”
“Babe. Hear me out.” His voice tightens with urgency. “I’ve thought this through. We tell everyone tomorrow at the funeral that we’re engaged. We get married at the courthouse. Keep it quiet. Play the happy couple. After the final hearing… we end it. Clean and simple.”