TEENAGE HONESTY
BELLA
T he negotiations on Matthew’s house hadn’t been necessarily difficult, just time-consuming. There’d been so much back-and-forth that I was starting to get annoyed. Either these people wanted to sell their house that had been sitting vacant for way too long, in my opinion, or they didn’t—I wasn’t sure which. Right when I was about to snap and say something to the agent I couldn’t take back, the sellers had finally agreed.
So, I asked Matthew to meet me at Main Street Diner for two reasons. One, it was a neutral location. And two, I really wanted their chicken potpie. No one else made them the way the diner did. It had the perfect ratio of vegetables, chicken, and whatever the creamy stuff was that filled it. And don’t even get me started on the homemade biscuit that topped it all off. The diner excelled in comfort food, and on chillier days like today, I always craved something hot and homemade.
I sat in a booth in the back, waiting for Matthew to arrive, as I scrolled through social media absentmindedly. I’d already put in my order because the potpies took a little longer than your typical meal to make.
“Still waiting, honey?” Mrs. Baker suddenly appeared, bringing my attention to her and the water glass she’d just refilled for me. She owned the Café with her husband and I hated even thinking about a time when they wouldn’t be running this place. They’d been here since I was a kid.
“He should be here soon.” I gave her a soft smile.
When the door opened and small gasps filled the air, she and I both knew that one of the O’Grady men had walked through it.
“Matthew O’Grady.” She wagged her eyebrows at me.
I shot her a look. “Don’t get all worked up, Mrs. Baker. There’s nothing going on,” I said.
She wasn’t buying it. Especially not once she saw the look on his face once he spotted me.
“Uh-huh. I’ve never seen Matthew light up like that for anyone except little Clarabel, but you keep lying to yourself, honey.”
Matthew reached the booth and pulled Mrs. Baker in for a hug, pulling her off her feet. She pretended to be annoyed, but I knew she enjoyed the attention.
“Put me down this instant,” she demanded through a laugh and Matthew put her gently back down.
“Good to see you, Mrs. B,” he said with a wink, and I swore I actually witnessed the woman melt from the inside out.
“You too, you little charmer.” She swatted his shoulder as he slid into the booth across from me. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?” she asked, batting her eyes at him, and I would have been more annoyed if I didn’t understand her sentiment completely.
Matthew’s eyes suddenly moved to lock on to mine. “Did you already order?”
I nodded. “Potpie. Couldn’t resist,” I said with a shrug, and he smiled, as if approving of my order.
“I’ll take a Pepsi and the double bacon burger with extra fries.” He rattled off his order without even taking a peek at the menu.
“Love a man who knows what he wants. Don’t we, Isabella?” She grinned at me before sauntering away to hand off the order to her husband in the kitchen.
Matthew gave me an inquisitive look, but I refused to entertain it.
“So,” I said.
He mimicked my tone as he replied, “So.”
“The sellers finally accepted the offer. They also agreed to a fifteen-day close, barring any issues with the inspections.”
“Right down to business.” He folded his hands on top of the table and leaned toward me.
“That is why we’re here,” I reminded him, and he gave me a smirk.
“First things first,” he said right as Mrs. Baker appeared with his soda and a straw. “Thanks, Mrs. B.”
He pounded the straw on the table to get the wrapper to open. I watched as he put it up to his lips and blew, the paper flying right at my face.
“What? Why?” I stuttered as I tried to stop it from hitting me. It landed on my chest instead, and I plucked it off with two fingers before crumpling it into a little ball.
Matthew sat there, laughing. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” I argued because he wasn’t sorry in the slightest.
“You’re right,” he actually agreed. “Thank you for helping me with the house. I really do appreciate it.”
“I appreciate the commission.” The words slipped off of my tongue before I could stop them. Not that I’d needed to keep that thought in necessarily. It just sounded kind of shitty, saying it out loud.
“I’m glad.” He wasn’t the least bit fazed. “Business is done.” He clapped his hands together like that was all that needed to be said on the matter. “Now, on to the personal side of things.”
I coughed. Reaching for my water, I took a long drink and avoided looking into his sea of blue. “The personal side?”
“We can keep playing this game until I wear you down, or we can cut to the chase, Bells.”
I closed my eyes, took a breath, and counted to three before letting it out slowly. “Honestly, Matthew, what do you want?”
“I want you to give me a chance.” He sounded so sincere.
“Why?”
A long breath escaped from between his lips. “I already told you, Bells. You feel like home. No one else makes me feel that way. You comfort me in a way I can’t explain,” he said, and I couldn’t stop the uncomfortable laugh that bubbled up in my throat and made its way out. “That’s funny to you?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just like I told you the other day. You do the exact opposite to me.”
“I make you un comfortable?” he asked in a way that made it seem like I’d offended him somehow.
“Not in a creepy way.” I waved him off, trying to calm him down because he was getting agitated.
“Okay, then why won’t you let me take you out?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” I blurted before slapping a hand across my mouth to hide my embarrassment.
Matthew leaned back slowly until he reached the cushion of the booth. “You don’t trust me…” He repeated my words back to me. “Really?” He looked almost hurt, but I refused to take back what I’d said because they were the truth.
“I just mean…” I started to stumble over my explanation. “I don’t trust that this isn’t some kind of game to you. Even if you don’t realize it.”
Thank God Mrs. Baker appeared, balancing our food in her hands. She placed the plates in front of us. “Need anything else?” she asked, eyeing us like she wanted in on whatever secret we were keeping.
“I think we’re good, Mrs. B. Thanks,” Matthew answered for both of us, and she walked away without another word.
I stared down at the potpie and noticed the steam rising from it and forced myself to be patient. Usually, I ended up burning the roof of my mouth because I couldn’t wait to take my first bite.
“Want a fry?” Matthew shoved his plate toward me.
I grabbed a few between my fingers and ate them, burning my damn mouth in the process. I started waving my hand in front of my face and blowing out the hot air before reaching for my water and taking a gulp.
“Uh, they’re hot,” Matthew said in a smart-aleck tone, and I made a snarky expression in response.
I stabbed the top of the potpie with my fork and made a little hole so some of the heat could escape. Hoping that Matthew would drop the conversation, but knowing that he wouldn’t, I sat there silently, waiting for him to bring it right back up.
He took a massive bite of his burger and stared at me while he chewed before finally swallowing. “You really think I’m playing a game with you, Bells?”
There it is.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure you even know.”
He took another bite, and I finally took one of mine.
I started moaning. “Oh God, this is so good.”
“Bells, do not make sounds like that in public, or I won’t be responsible for what I do to you,” he warned.
I choked for a second before regaining my composure.
Taking a couple of more tentative bites, I stopped myself from making any sounds as I swallowed, even though I wanted to. Partially because it was so good, but mostly because I liked the effect I seemed to have on him. Call me hypocritical because who was the one playing games now?
“I really liked you. I know I was just a dumb kid back then, but my feelings for you were real,” I admitted, clearly catching him off guard.
He shifted in the booth and straightened up a little taller. “I know your feelings were real. I never meant to act like they weren’t.”
“Then, why did you leave and never talk to me again? You broke my heart, Matthew. Did you even think about me at all, or was I really that easy to forget?” I asked as years of pent-up emotions started to come to the surface. I’d thought I’d buried them deep enough that they no longer mattered, but I’d been wrong.
“Jesus, Bells,” he breathed out as his arms reached across the booth for mine. When he grabbed my hands, I considered pulling away, but kept still instead as his thumb caressed the top of my hand. “I’m not going to pretend like I did nothing but think about you because that would be a lie and I won’t lie to you. I did think about you way more often than I had any business doing, and every time I did, I mentally beat myself up over it. Your brother told me to stay away from you. He told me that I’d never deserve you, that I wasn’t good enough for you, and I agreed with him. Whenever I thought about reaching out, his warning was in my head, stopping me.”
Matthew’s words were like blows, each one striking me square in the heart, over and over again until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Leo had no right to do that,” I said as I fought back the emotion that threatened to bubble up and consume me.
“He was looking out for you. It was the right thing for him to do at the time. But that doesn’t mean it’s right anymore.”
“What are you saying exactly?”
“What I’ve been trying to tell you since I got back into town. I want you to give me a chance.”
The teenage part of me wanted to jump up and down and pump her fist in the air. But the adult version was suddenly terrified. Here I was, a freaking virgin, and Matthew was the complete opposite. He had more experience than your average guy. Just thinking about that fact alone had me shaking underneath the table. The whole situation was intimidating. I felt embarrassed for some illogical reason.
“What do you say, Bells?” he pushed.
“I need some time to think about it,” I responded.
“Okay,” he agreed a little too easily.
I shot him a look. “Really? That’s it?”
“Yeah. You want time, I’ll give you some. Not a lot. We both know I’m not good at being patient, but I’ll try. I mean, I probably won’t try very hard, but what do you need? A day? Two at the most?” he said.
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not as he finished off the rest of his burger.
I opened my mouth to answer and say… what? I honestly had no idea, but he spoke instead, saving me from coming up with a response.
“You’ll let me know when I can get the keys to the house?” He flipped the subject back to business, and I tried my best to keep up without getting whiplash.
“Of course. I can’t imagine anything being wrong with it since it’s such a new build. Everything should be up to code, but I’ll let you know either way.”
“Can’t wait to move in. How many rooms do you want? Do you think you’ll need an office, or should I just build you a bar for research and mixology?” He started firing off questions, and the only thing I could do was laugh.
Inside, I was loving everything he was saying though… a little too much for my own good. A bar for research and mixology sounded extremely inviting, but I needed to keep my feet on solid ground when it came to this man.
“Probably a whiteboard, too, so you can take notes, huh? I can’t wait to be your taste tester.”
He continued to talk, and I stayed silent, hoping he’d stop. When he finally did, he kept that grin on his face before telling me that he’d pay the bill.
“We can split it,” I offered, but he scoffed at me.
“No,” was all he said before scooting out of the booth and walking toward the cash register, where Mrs. Baker stood, all starry-eyed as she watched him approach.
I finished as much of my potpie that I could before feeling like I might burst. Matthew returned, carrying a small to-go box, which he handed to me.
“Figured you’d want to bring the rest home.”
“I do. Thank you. And thanks for paying.”
“I am a gentleman, Bells,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue because maybe he was. “Just ask your parents.” He grinned before he started walking away.
Ask my parents?
What the hell did that mean?