Chapter Twenty-Five #3
His silence during romantic comedies rarely lasted.
Cher Horowitz began explaining her life, friends and ability to manipulate teachers into changing grades. Matvei’s mouth tightened.
“She changes marks.”
“Through negotiation.”
“She makes teachers date.”
“She improves their lives.”
“For grades.”
“There may be mixed motives.”
“Bad journalist.”
“She is not a journalist.”
“Still ethics.”
Tessa laughed.
The ice pack shifted when Matvei moved slightly beneath her.
She adjusted it.
Cher and Dionne decided to transform Tai, the new student.
Matvei watched the makeover sequence with growing suspicion.
“She was fine before.”
“Yes.”
“Why they change?”
“Because they think they’re helping.”
“They make her same.”
“You are unexpectedly insightful about the politics of a teenage makeover.”
“She is happier before.”
Tessa looked up at him.
He remained focused on the television.
She smiled and returned her head to his shoulder.
The movie reached the highway scene.
Cher accidentally entered the freeway, panicked and nearly caused several collisions while Dionne and Murray shouted from the passenger seats.
Matvei sat more upright.
“What is she doing?”
“She is driving.”
“Bad.”
“She is learning.”
“She will kill everyone.”
Tessa laughed hard enough that the cold pack began slipping.
Matvei caught it before it fell.
“No laugh. This is serious.”
“She survives.”
“Not point.”
When Cher’s father told her to drive home, Matvei stared at the screen in disbelief.
“Again?”
“She needs to get home.”
“Taxi.”
“It was the 1990s.”
“There were taxis.”
Tessa wiped at her eyes.
“You were less stressed during the championship game.”
“Goalie can stop puck. Nobody can stop her car.”
He resumed the movie only after Tessa assured him the freeway sequence had ended.
The robbery scene produced another argument.
Cher dropped to the ground at gunpoint but protested when the robber ordered her to ruin her designer dress.
Matvei paused the movie.
“No.”
Tessa began laughing before he said anything else.
“She says dress.”
“It is an Ala?a.”
“He has gun.”
“She likes the dress.”
“He does not care.”
“Clearly.”
Matvei looked toward her.
“This is favorite?”
“One of them.”
“You have many favorite movies with stupid people.”
“That is a foundational feature of romantic comedies.”
He resumed the movie.
Tessa became increasingly distracted by him rather than the screen.
Matvei had stopped pretending disinterest. He reacted to every decision with the seriousness of someone watching game film. He disliked Elton immediately, approved when Cher defended Tai and became visibly concerned when Tai’s popularity began changing her behavior.
He also understood before Cher did that she liked Josh.
Tessa expected the realization to please him.
Instead, his entire expression changed.
“No.”
“What?”
“That is brother.”
Tessa closed her eyes briefly.
“He is not her brother.”
“Father married his mother.”
“Former stepbrother.”
“Brother.”
“The parents divorced.”
“Still family.”
“They were not raised together.”
“He visits father.”
“Former stepfather.”
“He calls him Dad.”
“I did not say the movie held up perfectly.”
Matvei looked genuinely alarmed.
“How old is he?”
“College age.”
“She is sixteen.”
“Maybe seventeen.”
“Worse movie than first.”
“It is absolutely not worse than a grown reporter pretending to be a high school student while her teacher falls in love with her.”
“This one has brother.”
“Former stepbrother.”
“Word former does not change family dinner.”
Tessa laughed into his chest.
Matvei remained offended on behalf of family structures.
When she recovered, he resumed the movie but watched Josh with visible distrust through every scene.
“You are still enjoying it,” Tessa said.
“No.”
“You care who Cher ends up with.”
“Not brother.”
“Former.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“You are getting into romantic comedies.”
“I analyze.”
“That is how you enjoy things.”
“No.”
“You watched the women’s hockey press conference because I was in it. You researched classic romantic comedies. You are becoming emotionally invested in Alicia Silverstone’s questionable family romance.”
“Not invested.”
Onscreen, Cher failed her driving test.
Matvei nodded approvingly.
“Correct.”
Tessa laughed again.
The cold pack had warmed enough that she removed it and placed it on the nightstand. Matvei shifted more comfortably onto his left side, facing her while the movie continued.
Tessa studied him.
The hip seemed less stiff after the ice. His face had relaxed. No pain showed when he moved the top leg slightly over hers.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Better.”
“You will tell the trainers tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And you will not lie so they keep you in net?”
“I do not lie.”
“You told an entire room there was no discomfort.”
“At that time, question is public.”
Tessa frowned.
“That is an extremely goalie answer.”
“It is true.”
“Do not make me regret knowing things nobody else does.”
The words came out more seriously than she intended.
Matvei’s expression changed.
“You regret?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Tessa considered the question.
She knew about the hip now.
The team had not announced anything. Matvei had finished the game and played well. Unless the injury affected his availability or performance, there was no story. Athletes carried minor aches through seasons constantly, most of them never reaching the public.
Still, the information sat differently because of who had given it to her.
“I need you to be honest with the medical staff,” she said. “Not me as a reporter. Me as the person who does not want you making this worse because you think you have to start every game.”
Matvei held her gaze.
“I tell.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
The promise eased something inside her.
For now.
Onscreen, Cher finally recognized her feelings for Josh.
Matvei muttered something in Russian.
Tessa smiled.
“I know that tone.”
“Bad choice.”
“You have accepted every other part of the movie.”
“No.”
“You were upset when Tai insulted Cher.”
“She is mean.”
“You worried about the driving test.”
“Public safety.”
“You liked the makeover montage.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“Tai better before.”
Tessa looked at him.
“That is actually the correct modern analysis.”
“I know.”
“You are insufferable.”
Matvei kissed her forehead.
The movie reached its final wedding scene. Cher caught the bouquet, and Josh kissed her while everyone celebrated.
Matvei shook his head.
“Family confused.”
Tessa laughed.
The credits began.
Matvei did not immediately reach for the remote.
Instead, he remained beside her, one arm beneath her head and the other resting across her waist.
“Well?” she asked.
“Good clothes.”
“That is your review?”
“Bad driving.”
“Anything about the romance?”
“No.”
“The character growth?”
“Tai better before.”
“Anything positive?”
He considered it.
“Cher learns.”
Tessa smiled.
“That is the movie.”
“Yes.”
“So you liked it.”
“No.”
“You are becoming an expert on the genre.”
Matvei frowned.
Tessa began laughing again.
Matvei pulled her closer, careful with his hip.
She felt the adjustment.
The laughter quieted.
Her hand moved lightly over his side, stopping well above the place that hurt.
The night had not become what she expected when she packed the overnight bag.
There was no urgency beneath the blankets. No clothing scattered across the floor. No Russian curses she would attempt to translate later.
Instead, they lay together while the credits rolled, Matvei’s breathing warm against her hair and the remains of the cold pack melting on the nightstand.
The intimacy felt no smaller.
Perhaps it felt larger.
Sex had been one of the easiest things between them from the beginning. Their bodies had understood what to do long before either could explain what the relationship required.
This required something else.
Patience.
Trust.
The willingness to believe that stopping did not mean rejection and that wanting could remain without immediately being satisfied.
Matvei’s fingers moved slowly along her back.
“You stay?” he asked.
Tessa lifted her head.
“I brought a bag.”
“Yes.”
“You saw it when I came in.”
“I ask.”
She looked at him.
“Yes. I’m staying.”
His arm tightened around her.
Tessa rested her cheek against his chest again.
The television returned to the streaming menu. Clueless remained highlighted beside a recommendation for another romantic comedy.
Matvei followed her gaze.
“Next,” he said.
“You already picked another one?”
“Yes.”
“You like them.”
“No.”
“What is it?”
He refused to answer.
Tessa smiled and closed her eyes.
Beneath her, his heartbeat remained steady.
His hip would receive treatment in the morning. The deadline had passed. The roster remained intact. Halifax had climbed the standings without sacrificing the room that carried it there.
All the problems seemed minor.
Tessa would remember later how easily she believed that.