14. Matt
fourteen
Matt
T he first thing I registered was the wrongness of cold sheets where there should’ve been warmth. Casey wasn’t with me, and he should have been. My hand slapped across the mattress as I blinked awake. The soft sheets were still rumpled from his body, but there was no Casey-shaped dent, just the faintest imprint of his head on my pillowcase. Where had he gone?
Shit, had he gone outside? He’d never been to my place before, and he certainly didn’t know the way back to camp.
“Fuck.”
I shot upright, bare feet hitting cold pine floors. Last night’s memories hit me like a rogue kayak paddle—Casey swaying drunk against my truck, giggling about my cock piercing as I half-carried him up the loft ladder. I’d sat guard until late at night, just watching the flutter of his eyelashes, making sure he was okay, worried he might throw up. Or worse.
I was grabbing my shoes and phone when a metallic clang echoed from below. Peering over the loft railing, I spotted lavender hair, and relief surged through me.
There he stood bathed in the early morning glow from the window, wearing nothing but my oversized Camp Eagle Ridge hoodie—the hem barely grazing mid-thigh as he poured himself a glass of water. His hair was damp, and I suspected he’d helped himself to my shower, too.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to bend him over that goddamn counter and make him forget the bartender he’d been flirting with last night. Fucking Kyle.
Leaning over my nightstand, I found a mint in the drawer, just in case he wanted that, too. My relief curdled into fresh panic as he crouched, pastel bowl-cut bobbing while he opened the refrigerator door.
“Don’t—”
Too late. His gasp pierced the quiet as he pulled out the triple-layer monstrosity taking up my entire bottom shelf. Buttercream script glinted under the LED lights: HAPPY 21ST CASEY.
“Um.” Casey tilted the cake, frowning down at the letters. “You having a party I wasn’t invited to? With my name on the cake.”
I took the stairs two at a time, nearly eating shit when my sweatpants caught on the handrail bolt. “It was on clearance!”
“Bullshit.” He pointed at the logo on the box. “This is from the bakery in town. I recognize the box.”
He looked freshly showered, and I crossed my arms over my sleep-rumpled Nirvana tee, acutely aware of my rumpled clothing and bedhead. So what if he’d seen the cake? He didn’t need to know everything I’d done to make his birthday special — all for nothing. Because he hadn’t even been there. He’d been out flirting with a fucking bartender.
“So? I bought you a cake, but didn’t get it to you before you left.”
Casey lifted the lid off the cake, examining it. For one brutal second, I braced for the eye roll, the sarcastic quip about lame straight people parties. His gaze trailed off, as if he was fascinated by a chip in my countertop, picking at it with his thumbnail. I edged closer, catching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed above my hoodie’s sagging collar.
“Just a cake?” He met my eyes and dragged his finger across the edge of the pink frosting, never breaking eye contact as he licked the dollop of frosting off it. Buttercream clung to his Cupid’s bow. I’d never wanted to ruin something sweet so badly in my life.
It shouldn’t have been the most obscene thing I’d ever seen. And when he grabbed a frosting flower off the top of his cake and popped it into his mouth, I nearly leaped over the counter and pinned him to it, licking him clean myself.
Then I saw the wobble in his bottom lip.
“Hey.” My hand found his elbow before I could remember why that was a bad idea. “What’s—”
“You remembered.” His voice cracked like kindling. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye. “I didn’t see you all day yesterday, and I thought ….” He stared down at the kink, blinking hard.
“You thought what?” My heart broke at the sadness in his eyes.
Casey sniffed hard. “That you ghosted my birthday because you don’t really like me at all.”
The admission hung between us for a beat, and I realized the mistake I’d made. My chest felt tight, and I rubbed a hand absently over it, trying to soothe the ache.
“I went into town to get the cake and supplies while Sutton and Ben were setting up in the lodge,” I said. “But by the time I got back, you and Oliver had left. I felt like such a dork, planning you a surprise party when you already had plans.”
"A surprise party?"
"Cake, streamers, the whole nine yards."
His snort-laugh turned into a wet hiccup, and he gave me a shaky smile. “You are such a dork. But I like it.”
I reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing eye contact. “Sweetheart, we had the whole lodge ready. Karaoke machine, food, beers. Fuck, I even learned to make rainbow-colored mixed drinks. Not a summer camp director’s top skill, believe me.”
Casey's eyes searched my face as he blinked back the wetness in his eyes. “Why didn’t you call or something?”
“I don’t know, I panicked. Thought I’d read the situation all wrong.” I reached up and swiped my thumb across the frosting on his lip, and he gave me a cheeky grin and licked my thumb. “And then Wade texted me, saying you'd gone into a bar alone.”
Casey stepped closer to me, his heat and scent surrounding me. He reached up, his hands landing on my shoulders, and his fingernails sank into my sleep shirt. “It hurt when I thought you forgot.”
“I’m sorry. The surprise party was a stupid idea. I should have told you. I left Oliver a note, but he must have missed it. And I emailed you a memo.”
“Should have made sure,” he agreed, pressing close to me. “Hurt my feelings.”
“Is that why you sent the texts?” I asked.
“What texts?” He reached for his phone, which was thrown haphazardly on the counter, and opened his text app, eyes widening and cheeks growing pink as he scrolled. “Shit. You need to delete all of these."
"Sex was mid?"
"Bullshit. Total defense mechanism.”
"Your obsession with my cock rings?"
Casey giggled. "That might be a legit obsession."
“And was running from the kayak shed a defense mechanism too?” I asked, combing my fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck.
“Shut up.” His fingers dug into my shoulders and he butted his forehead against my sternum. “I panicked, okay? You were all…” His hands flapped between us like injured birds. “Sexy and gorgeous and…”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, terrifying.”
“It was! I wanted to crawl into your lap and kiss you for hours.”
My arms locked around him, smashed him against me. For three heartbeats, he stayed rigid—then melted like butter on a griddle, his arms slipping around my waist as he buried his face against my t-shirt, holding me so tight.
“I want you, Casey, just to be clear,” I murmured into his cotton candy hair as I smoothed my hands down his neck and back, trying to soothe him. “I think I've wanted you since the moment you marched into that job fair. But even if we’re just friends, I can handle that. Just let me make your birthdays special, okay? No drinking alone with Kyle.”
"Who's Kyle?"
I pointed to his text about the hot bartender, and Casey squeaked. "Ignore that." He tilted his head, his eyes, still glassy, skimming over my face. "Matty, were you jealous of Kyle?"
"Fuck yes. If you're sucking any hot older man's cock, it should be mine, not that asshole's."
He burst out laughing, then nuzzled my neck, his body doing a happy little shiver. “Matt. Honey.” Slim fingers crept under my shirt hem. “You are not in the friend zone. You are in the … whatever zone it is where I think about sitting on your dick constantly.”
The world tilted as I lunged forward, pinning him against the counter. Suddenly, his knee was between mine, our hips aligned in dangerous mimicry of that afternoon in the kayak shed as I framed his chin with my hand and forced him to look up at me.
“I might be still mad about the birthday thing,” he said.
“Take it out on me later.” I skimmed lips across his temple, his nose, his cheeks. “Right now, I need you to understand something.”
He went preternaturally still.
“I don’t even fucking know what mid means, but I have a feeling it’s not the right word for what is happening between us.” My mouth found the shell of his ear, voice dropping to gravel. “That afternoon in the kayak shed was the best fucking thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. You are the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time, and I want to plan a do-over on your birthday party.”
Casey stared up at me, a slow smile spreading across his lips. Something primal uncoiled in my gut, and I grazed my teeth down his throat, urgently needing to mark him as mine. Taken.
“You are not ever speaking to Kyle again,” I growled.
“Who’s Kyle, again?” His throat bobbed against my lips as I mapped that pale column with my mouth working upward until his breath hitched.
“Happy birthday,” I whispered against his jaw.
“Said that already.”
Chin. “Happy birthday.”
Upper lip. “Happy bir—”
His mouth crashed into mine, all desperation and teeth. The taste of him—spearmint toothpaste and sweet buttercream—flooded my system like moonshine. My hands found their way under the hoodie, roaming over his smooth skin. His gasp vibrated between us.
“You’d better have gotten me presents.” His hand slid south, palm cupping me through flannel pajama bottoms. Fingertips found the barbell piercing through the thin fabric of my pajama pants. “Missed this stupid dick so much.”
I caught his wrist. “Slow down, sweetheart. You were really drunk last night. Hell, you should be puking in a bucket right now.”
He blinked up at me, lashes still clumped from earlier tears. “Secret’s out—I can hold my liquor. Or maybe I’m too fucking horny for you to assess whether or not I have a headache.”
Every muscle locked as he worked my cock through my pants, holding eye contact. He wasn’t going to slow down, even if the hangover should have been incapacitating.
“Got you gifts,” I rasped as denim pooled at my ankles.
“Better be lube. And a big dildo for me to ride while begging for Daddy.”
I blew out a breath, my dick twitching in response to that visual. “Hiking boots and a new backpack?”
His laugh punched out warm against my throat. “Romantic as a tax audit.” His tongue darted out, tasting the side of my throat. “Don’t worry—I’ll educate you on proper present protocols.”
I held him close, smiling as I thought about what was really in the package.