HER LAST FIRST DATE
MATTHEW
B ells is a virgin.
No matter how hard I tried to not fixate on that fact about her, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. How the hell was that even possible? I had no idea, but I planned on finding out later tonight. I was sure it made me some kind of asshole to be thinking this way, but putting it out of my head and not asking at least a few questions felt impossible to do.
I almost called my brothers on a three-way chat to talk it out, but telling them something that personal about Bells felt wrong. It wasn’t my place, so when I had Patrick’s number pulled up on my phone, I quickly put it right back down.
I could do this.
I didn’t need my brothers to tell me that I was being an idiot and how her virginity didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Or at all. They’d tell me that it had nothing to do with me before asking if it changed my feelings for her or not. I’d get annoyed and tell them both no. That I still wanted her just as badly as I had before. Then, I’d admit that it made me feel relieved that no man had ever touched her in that way, and one of them, probably Thomas, would call me a hypocrite before ending the call.
There.
Conversation had.
I felt better already.
Walking into my closet in the condo, I shoved at the clothes that were in the way as I reached for my old suits. I’d worn these on travel days when I played hockey. We always dressed up. I always looked the best.
My favorite designer suit sat staring at me, begging me to reach for it, so I did. The navy-blue material with barely there white pinstripes made me smile. I loved this suit. Dropping my clothes to the floor, I stood there, mostly naked, as I pulled the pants from the hanger and prayed like hell they still fit.
I hadn’t been working out the way that I used to, and I was a little worried that they might be too big since I’d lost some muscle. Reaching for the crisp white button-down shirt, I hoped I wouldn’t be swimming in it either. Thankfully, both pieces of clothes still felt good. Grabbing the jacket last, I slipped it on before heading out of the closet and toward the full-length mirror in my room.
“Damn, son. You should wear this all the time,” I said out loud, to no one but myself.
Spinning around so I could check out my ass in the pants, I gave myself a nod. I still looked damn good, even with the weight loss. My phone was on the bed, and I lunged for it before snapping a selfie of me standing in front of the mirror and sending it to my brothers.
Hot date tonight, gentlemen. Wish me luck.
PATRICK:
Does your hand like it when you wear suits?
THOMAS:
Please tell me it’s with an actual person.
Not sure why I tell either of you anything.
THOMAS:
Because you have no friends.
PATRICK:
Because we’re the only ones who pretend to listen.
Damn. You two are fucking mean. Now, wish me luck.
THOMAS:
Is it with Bella?
PATRICK:
Who else would it be with? The guy’s been a fool for her since he got home.
THOMAS:
You never know with him. He could have met some chick at the grocery store for all we know.
PATRICK:
Fair point.
I hate you both. I fixed your relationships, and this is the thanks I get.
PATRICK:
Fixed is a strong word.
THOMAS:
I won’t even dignify that with a response.
PATRICK:
You just did, dumbass.
THOMAS:
I’ll tell Clara you don’t love her anymore.
PATRICK:
You wouldn’t dare.
Do either of you even care about me? Why do I have to beg for your love?
THOMAS:
eye-rolling emoji
PATRICK:
eye-rolling emoji
Get Clara a cell phone so I can text her instead of you two. At least she’d be happy for me.
THOMAS:
She’s never getting a phone. Or social media. Ever. And we’re happy for you. I really do hope it’s with Bella since you still haven’t told us shit.
PATRICK:
Waiting …
It’s with Bells. I’m taking her to the resort for dinner.
PATRICK:
Oh shit. This is serious. Should we come too?
THOMAS:
I definitely think we should show up.
Please don’t.
PATRICK:
You might need our help.
THOMAS:
I’m a great wingman.
I don’t think you’ve ever been a wingman in your entire life.
THOMAS:
How would you know?
PATRICK:
What time’s the reservation?
We don’t want to miss it.
Do not show up on my date.
THOMAS:
Maybe I’ll just work late.
PATRICK:
Same. I could find something to build.
I hate you both. But I look good, right? Downright fuckable.
THOMAS:
Bye.
PATRICK:
See you later.
No. Do not show up.
Hello?
Jerk-offs?
Neither one of the two assholes responded to me again, and I was pretty sure I didn’t deserve the silent treatment they were dishing out or the anxiety they’d just crippled me with. I started wondering if they’d really fuck with me and show up on my date, before convincing myself that they wouldn’t do that to me. Then again, if the shoe was on the other foot, I’d probably show up to theirs just to be a jackass.
Great.
If there was any time for them to want to pay me back for my previous antics, it would be now. There was nothing more for me to do than sit still and wait for the clock to tick closer to seven. It was taking forever.
When I drove over to Bells’s apartment complex, I realized that I was actually nervous. I rarely felt that way, but something about this date seemed to wreak a little havoc on my insides. Taking the steps two at a time, I knocked on her front door and waited, feeling like a kid picking up his prom date in front of a crowd.
I inhaled a few breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth, but all the calming mechanisms were shot to hell the second she opened the door. I felt like the wind had gotten knocked clean out of me.
“Bells, holy shit. You look beautiful,” I said as my eyes drank her in, wanting to do very non-ladylike things to her.
She was wearing a long black dress that hugged every inch of her body with a slit up one side that went all the way up to her thigh. It was downright scandalous in the hottest fucking way. Her tanned leg peeked through the dress as she moved. Stepping out, she turned her back to me to lock the door, and I almost fell right over again.
My hand reached out and my fingertips ran down her back as I brushed her long, dark hair out of the way. “Bells, this dress…” I swore I had to stop myself from drooling.
“You like it?” She spun around to face me, her hazel eyes blazing.
“It’s stunning.”
“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she said with a grin as she fingered the top button of my shirt that was undone.
“Now, I know that’s a lie. ’Cause I look damn good,” I teased as I extended my hand toward hers, and she stared at it before putting her tiny little hand in mine.
“This suit is gorgeous,” she said as we reached the top of the stairs.
“Want me to carry you down?” I asked, realizing that her heels were precariously tall, and she laughed.
“No. I can walk. Just not very fast,” she emphasized the word.
I took the steps slower than I’d ever done before.
Once we were in my truck, it was a quick drive over to the resort. She seemed to be as nervous as I was, which actually made me feel better.
We’re on the same page , I told myself.
I looked out the window as I drove. The trees were bursting with life, and green and other colors started to appear on the ground and what felt like literally everywhere. There was something about the way Sugar Mountain woke up from its winter slumber that always made me happy. Spring was springing.
“Do we have reservations? Do you even need reservations?” Bells asked, breaking the silence as soon as I pulled into valet parking.
“We have them, yes.”
I hustled out of my truck and scrambled to her door before she could open it or try to get out without my help. Reaching for her tiny body, I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her easily from her seat to the ground.
“It’s annoying how easily you can just pick me up,” she complained, but I knew she liked it.
“It’s not my fault you weigh, like, ninety pounds,” I countered.
She scoffed. “I do not weigh ninety pounds.”
“You feel like you do.”
I wasn’t trying to offend her, but she was a petite little thing. Short as hell. I could probably fold her up and fit her in my pocket if I wanted to.
Fine, I’m being ridiculous.
“Keys are in the truck,” I said to the kid at the valet.
He handed me a ticket, and I shoved it in my pocket.
“I think you just traumatized him,” Bells said.
I gave her a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“His eyes almost bugged out of his head once he realized it was you,” she said. “You didn’t notice?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I think he might have been a fan,” she said with a softness to her tone.
“Then, I’ll sign something for him later.”
That seemed to pacify her, even though I had no idea what she wanted from me in this instance. I reached for her hand and refused to take a single step until she was holding on to it. Our fingers intertwined, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. We walked slowly—because of her insane heels—through the front door and into a spring-filled wonderland at the Sugar Mountain Resort.
Bells gasped. “It’s always so beautiful in here.”
Glancing around, I tried to see and appreciate it the way she seemed to. It was pretty, of course, but I’d grown up with the constant changing of themes inside the resort, and I guessed a part of me was used to it and took it for granted.
“They do a great job.”
“It’s like living in a dream,” she said as her head moved from left to right to take in all the floral wonder.
“You’re a dream,” I said.
She started laughing. “Matthew, maybe keep the cheesy lines to yourself.” She rolled her eyes, clearly not believing me.
Sure, the line might have been cheesy, but I still meant it.
“Matthew. Miss Sanchez.” Mr. Gonzales stepped out from behind his concierge desk to greet us.
“Hi.” I gave him a firm handshake as Bells looked surprised that he had known her name.
“I noticed you had reservations this evening,” he said with a gleam in his eye.
“We do.”
“May I say that you both look incredible?” He grinned, and I thanked him.
“We’d better get over there. Don’t want to be late.” I gave him a nod and squeezed Bells’s hand in mine. “It was good to see you, Mr. G.” I smiled before heading that way.
As soon as we rounded the corner toward where the restaurant entrance was located, I stopped walking. Bells took another step before my hand yanked her back, and she almost lost her balance. Grabbing her body easily, I steadied her, making sure not to let her go until I knew she was stable.
“Why’d you stop? I could have broken an ankle.”
“I’d never let that happen,” I whispered before letting out a long sigh.
“I didn’t believe it,” Thomas said as he nudged Patrick.
“Me neither,” Patrick sighed.
“You really agreed to go out with him?” Thomas looked at Bells.
“Did he bribe you?” Patrick added. “Are you here under duress?”
“Oh, hey, guys,” Bells said with a smile, almost like she wasn’t surprised in the least that they were here.
Maybe she wasn’t. They did work here after all.
“Why are you here?” I bit out, unsure if I was more annoyed or amused.
My brothers closed the gap between us.
“We told you we’d see you later,” Patrick said with a grin before giving my girl a hug.
Thomas followed suit. He squeezed Bells, his eyes on me the whole time. They were doing this solely to irritate me.
“Get off her already,” I ground out, and my brothers both laughed.
“Awww, someone doesn’t like it when it’s done to him,” Thomas mocked, reminding me that I really used to fuck with him when it came to Brooklyn.
“Someone does not,” I growled.
“Are you guys coming with us to dinner?” Bells asked sweetly, and I wasn’t sure if she was trying to mess with me too.
Patrick’s gaze met Thomas’s, and silent words passed between them.
“I could eat,” Thomas said.
I let go of Bells hand and gave him a shove.
“Neither one of you is hungry.” I pointed at Patrick. “And if you are, you can go visit your fiancée at her restaurant and get some food there.” I then moved my pointer finger to Thomas. “And you can go home to your wife and daughter. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Jaquess will murder me if we’re late,” I said, referring to the head chef, who would not take kindly to my being tardy.
Thomas and Patrick started laughing like I’d said the funniest thing in the world, even though they both knew that it was true. Bells simply shifted her weight, and I thought she might be uncomfortable.
“We didn’t believe this date was real,” Thomas said.
Bells tried to stop herself from laughing and failed, all previous signs of any discomfort gone.
“Had to see it for ourselves.” Patrick nodded.
“Well, you’ve both seen it. Now, go away,” I snapped.
“Thanks for checking on me,” Bells said in a tone that told me she was enjoying this.
“Bye forever,” I said before pulling Bells away from them and apologizing. “Sorry for that.”
She just smiled. “I love your family.”
“Well, you’re the only one.” I pouted like a child, feeling like one too.
When we reached the restaurant entrance, we were promptly asked to follow behind the hostess to a private table in the back. There was candlelight and fresh roses on the table. It was romantic as hell and perfect. I pulled out her chair for her and waited for her to sit before moving to my seat across from her… which was too damn far, if you asked me, but no one was, so I sat across from her, thinking about putting her on my lap the entire time.
A waiter appeared with two waters and a basket filled with artisan breads and crackers. “Good evening, Mr. O’Grady and Miss Sanchez. Chef Jaques would like to order for you tonight, if that’s okay with you?”
“That’s great,” I said before taking a sip of my water.
“Do either of you have any food allergies?” he asked.
“I do not,” I answered and waited for Bells to respond.
“Nope,” she said.
“Can I get you started with something else to drink?”
He looked between us, and I waited to see what Bells was going to do. If she ordered a drink, then I would as well.
“Wine?” she asked.
I nodded. “That sounds great.” I smiled before looking at the waiter. “Whatever wine would pair best with our meal.”
He nodded before disappearing.
“No menus?” Bells asked, her eyes pulled together in confusion.
“Jaques is going to send us out food. We’ll probably get more courses than we can even eat.”
She clapped her hands together, and it reminded me of Clara. “Oh, how fun. This is exciting.”
It was exciting. Jaques was a hell of a chef, and I’d let him choose food for me one other time, when I’d been here with my family. We’d all left so stuffed that we could barely walk.
The waiter was back before long, carrying a bottle of red wine from somewhere, but I wasn’t paying attention to his description because I didn’t give a shit where it was from as long as Bells enjoyed it.
He poured two small amounts into our glasses and waited for us to try it.
“This is so good,” Bells said.
The waiter grinned before filling our glasses half full and leaving the bottle between us.
“I hope it’s okay that I asked for wine,” Bells said.
I had no idea what she meant. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m just a little confused when it comes to you and drinking,” she said, and I was actually fucking thankful that she’d finally asked.
“I think everyone is.” I gave her a half smile.
She made a sound before adding, “Not everyone.” She enunciated the last word, and I cocked my head to the side and shot her a look. “Addi doesn’t think you have a drinking problem at all.”
That shocked the hell out of me. Addison hadn’t mentioned it.
“Really? What does she think?”
I watched as Bells leaned forward, her arms on the table like she didn’t want anyone to overhear, even though the closest couple was tables away from us.
“She said that you drank at the saloon because I was there.”
“I already told you that.” I shrugged.
“But you didn’t tell me the rest,” she pushed, her hazel eyes staring right through me.
I swallowed. “Bells, you know I never drank in high school, right?”
“Yeah. Your body was a temple and all that.” She rolled her eyes as she repeated the words I must have told her at least a hundred times.
“I rarely drank during the season. Only if we were celebrating. I drank even less in the offseason. Always training, you know? Anyway, when I drink now, I get drunk pretty quickly.”
“You’re a lightweight?” she asked with an unbelievable laugh.
“Oh, the lightest,” I admitted because it was the truth. “I hated when you worked at the saloon, okay? Couldn’t stand the thought of you closing that place all alone at midnight and sometimes later, depending on the crowd and season. What kind of owner lets a five-foot-nothing female close a place like that all by herself?”
“Addi thought that’s why you were there,” she breathed out, her tone sounding serious and incredulous, almost like the concept of my being there for her was too much to believe.
“It was. I really don’t have a drinking problem, Bells. I will drink beer because I like it. And I swear to God, if I drink two, then I’m done for. It’s embarrassing, and my brothers don’t know because I’d never fucking hear the end of it.”
“But—” she started to say something and stopped just as quick.
“But what? You can ask me anything. It’s why we’re here.” I reached across the table for one of her hands and held it.
“It’s just that…” She looked away before focusing her attention back on me. “I’m trying to figure out how to say it right. You just seem sad, I think? Yeah. You act happy-go-lucky and like you can brush everything right off your back, but you still seem sad to me.”
Damn.
This woman knew me better than most. She always had. Anytime I tried to hide my feelings, she’d always seen right through them.
“I miss hockey,” I said, clearing my throat. I never talked about this. Tried my best to not even fucking think about the fact that I’d lost it years before I was ready to. Nothing changed the outcome, so I hated focusing on it. It made me feel like shit.
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” she said, but I knew there was more behind that sentence, so I waited for her to continue speaking. “Have you thought about talking to someone about it?” Bells asked the question with so much hesitation that I wondered how big of an arrogant prick she actually thought I was.
“Like a therapist?” I asked, but my tone was teasing.
“Yeah. Like a therapist,” she repeated.
“I’ve kicked it around a time or two,” I answered. I’d even gone so far as to look up sports therapists online, but I hadn’t taken the plunge into making a virtual appointment. I kept convincing myself that my depression would pass. And some days were better than others, so I continued to chug along.
“West mentioned that his sister was a therapist, if you want me to reach out and get her contact information,” she said.
That sentence woke me right the hell up. I felt like I’d been slapped.
“Did you just bring up that fireman on our date? And how do you know what his sister does for a living? How many times did you go out with this guy?” The questions flew out of my mouth faster than I could stop them. “You have his phone number? In your phone?” I couldn’t seem to contain my jealousy.
Bells held both hands in the air. “We did talk about our families before you came in all Cocaine Bear and ruined the whole thing.”
“Cocaine Bear?” I asked with a gruff laugh, not knowing what the hell that meant, but it still sounded funny as hell.
“It’s not my fault you acted like a crazed animal.”
“What else do you know about this guy?” I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.
I hadn’t truly wanted an answer, but Bells went right on and gave me one anyway. “He has a twin brother, who’s a cop in their town. His other brother is a mechanic. And his sister is a therapist. The end.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Good God. A cop and a fireman? How noble. Their parents must be so proud.”
Bells frowned at my immaturity. “I was only trying to help, Matthew. I don’t know of any other therapists.”
“If I promise to look for one, will you promise to never bring up that stupid fireman or his dumb name again?” I asked, sounding like a possessive, whiny teenager.
“Deal.”
She reached her hand across the table, and I took it in mine and gave it a firm shake right as the waiter appeared with our first course.