Chapter Twenty-Four
Matt
I wasn’t expecting Keith to knock on my door at nine in the fucking morning. I didn’t even think he was capable of waking up that early on days that we didn’t have practice.
The rest of the house was still asleep, as quiet as a ghost town.
Opening the door, I didn’t say a word, just left it ajar for him to come in if he desired.
Acting as if I hadn’t had him pinned against a wall less than twelve hours ago, he strolled in casually and moved the small pile of clothes I had on my desk chair so he could sit.
Remaining stoic on my bed, I didn’t speak, silently staring at him.
For a moment, Keith did the same before giving smacking his lips together.
“I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over his face.
“I didn’t realize you actually felt that way about her.
” The only response I gave him was a lifted brow and a grimace to match.
Keith sighed, shifting around awkwardly.
No doubt that serious conversations were far out of his comfort zone.
“I didn’t know you were in love with her,” Keith rushed out.
The words hit me like a cannon, unexpectedly and explosive.
Throat running dry, I sat back in an attempt to look relaxed, putting all my weight into my hands.
He continued, “I just thought that maybe you guys had hooked up before or something... I—I don’t know.
And I also wanna make it clear that I wasn’t trying to grab her ass.
I was just trying to scoot past her. I may be a dick sometimes, but I would never go around touching girls without consent. ”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to kill him anymore.
Sincerity coated his voice and his features, and I appreciated that he took the time to come give me an apology.
“Wow,” I teased, “I didn’t know you could be so mature.”
“Me neither,” he laughed.
I coughed, the words getting stuck in my throat for a moment before I got them out. “I’m sorry too. For snapping last night.”
He gave a careless shrug. “It’s alright.”
“So, we’re good?”
“Yeah,” Keith nodded. “We’re good.” Pushing himself up, he trotted quietly to my door before leaning against the nearest wall. “And do me a favor, will you? Tell her how you feel.”
With that, the handsome phantom walked out.
His words loomed over me. I’d been wanting to tell her how I felt since that night at Pitcher Perfect, but after we had
gotten interrupted and I had a clear, sober mind, I’d decided against it. The desire to express myself to her was still there, but at the end of the day, she was still too good for me. And I was still too scared to ruin our friendship.
But I knew there would come a day where I couldn’t hold it in any longer. If I was being honest, that day might’ve been closer than I originally thought.