Chapter 35
Starting Over
Music pounded, vibrating the floor beneath my feet.
Leaning on the bar, I forced a half smile as my gaze followed Davina as she whipped her long hair around dramatically before flipping it back and moving her hips with the music.
She was trying hard to make me smile, but it was so hard when all I could think about was Matt.
Everything Leilani said earlier replayed through my head, and it only made me think more about Matt. I didn't want to come tonight. Especially not to the bar where we'd met. The one where his friends bet him to ask me out.
Tomorrow was his niece's birthday party, and I still hadn't decided if I should go or not.
I wanted to talk to Matt, but I wasn't sure I was ready for it yet.
Mostly because I wasn't sure what to say to him.
I was half mad at myself for shutting him down so quickly before truly hearing him out, and half mad at him for not being honest with me from the start.
What was even worse, though, was that I missed him.
"Rough day?" A familiar deep voice boomed over the music, and I froze as my eyes widened. My gaze met Davina's for a long moment as a slow, devious smile spread across her face as she continued to dance.
My heart pounded, and my pulse thrummed so loudly it drowned out the music as I slowly turned. My lips parted slightly when my gaze collided with Matt's deep brown eyes.
My brows pulled together, face twisting with confusion. Placing both hands on the bar, I pushed up to my toes. "What are you doing here?" I yelled over the music.
He shrugged slightly before leaning in so he didn't have to shout. "Starting over?" He said more as a question than a statement.
We stood silently staring for a long moment as a million different thoughts raced through my mind. His eyes searched mine like they were waiting for me to make the next move.
I had two options: walk away and never look back, or play along and see what happens.
"You told Leilani you wished we could start over." I nodded, but I wasn't sure we could. "So, let's start over. Give me the chance to do it right this time."
Pressing my lips into a thin line, I sucked in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. The weight of the decision pressed against my chest. If I walked away now, this would be our ending. If I stayed...
"Kind of," I finally said, a smile tugging at my lips as I remembered what I'd said to him the first time we met. "Are you new here?"
His whole face lit up like I'd just handed him the winning lottery ticket. "Yeah, kind of, actually no." He shook his head, grinning. "I may have bribed the owner to let me work behind the bar so I could officially meet you."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's either very romantic or slightly stalker-ish."
"I prefer charmingly persistent." He grabbed the bar towel from his shoulder and started wiping down the already clean bar. "Plus, I lost a bet tonight."
"That's rough."
"Yeah," he pursed his lips. "It kind of sucked listening to them all gloating over there." His gaze dropped to the bar as he slowly wiped it with the towel. "But…" His eyes lifted, meeting mine. "It's not so bad now."
"Yeah," I smiled. "Why is that?"
"Because they picked the most gorgeous woman in the whole bar for me to take home tonight."
"Take home?" I raised my brows. "That's pretty presumptuous."
"Very." He leaned closer, "Which is why I was thinking maybe I could take you across the street to that little diner. You know, the one where we can actually hear each other? Maybe talk until they kick us out, then walk you home the long way because I'm not ready for the night to end."
My heart did that annoying flutter thing. "And then?"
"And then I spend the entire walk thinking about kissing you but not doing it because I want you to know this isn't about any stupid bet or dare." His voice dropped lower, more serious. "I want our first kiss to be real, and I never want you to second-guess whether it was or wasn't real."
I searched his face for any hint of performance, any echo of that original bet. But his eyes held nothing but raw honesty, the kind that made my chest tight and my defenses crumble.
"The bet might have gotten me to walk over here that first night," he continued, "but it was you who brought me back to the café the next day. And the day after that. And pretty much every day since." My eyes blurred with tears. "That night, all I could think about was seeing you again."
"Really?"
"I'm sorry, Brooke." His voice dropped lower, almost drowned out by the music. "I'm sorry that I wasn't honest from the get-go."
He glanced away, then back, his fingers tightening on the bar edge. "Meeting you wasn't in my life plan." The pause stretched between us, filled only by the thumping bass. "But I honestly can't picture my life without you in it."
He swallowed hard, and I found myself holding my breath.
"I'm completely, hopelessly, ridiculously in love with you," he said, like he was confessing to a crime. "And I know I messed up, but if there's any chance…"
"Stop." I held up a hand.
His face fell.
I stared at him, processing everything he'd just said. The hurt was still there, a tender bruise I kept pressing. But seeing him here, vulnerable and trying so hard to make it right... The anger I'd been nursing for weeks suddenly felt exhausting.
"The truth is," I continued, "if you had told me about the bet that first night, I probably would have thrown my tequila at you and never looked back." A tear slipped down my cheek. "And I would have missed out on falling for the most amazing, frustrating, sweetest man I've ever met."
His eyes widened.
"I'm sorry too," I said. "You deserved a chance to explain, and I was too hurt and stubborn to listen because I convinced myself you were too good for me."
"So we're both idiots?" he asked.
"The absolute worst." I grinned. "Which is why it's perfect that I'm completely, hopelessly, ridiculously in love with you too."
"Yeah?" His voice cracked.
I nodded, and the space between us suddenly felt electric.
The world around us kept spinning, college kids pushed past, someone knocked into my shoulder, Davina was probably still dancing like her life depended on it, but all I could see was Matt's face, the way his eyes lit up like I'd just given him everything he'd ever wanted.
He held up one finger, wait, and my heart stopped.
My gaze followed him as he ducked under the bar and emerged on my side, moving like a man on a mission. One step. Two. Then he was rushing toward me like I was the finish line of the most important race of his life.
His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me clean off the ground in the middle of Murphy's Pub. We spun past the dartboard, past the vintage posters, past Davina's delighted cheer from somewhere in the crowd. The whole bar became a blur of warm light and possibility.
When he finally stopped spinning, my forehead pressed against his, my hands tangled in his hair. We were breathing the same air, sharing the same space, and I could feel his heart hammering against mine.
"I missed you so much it physically hurt," I whispered.
"Good," he murmured, his grip tightening around me. "I was hoping I wasn't the only one suffering."
I laughed, and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was soft, desperate, and real. His lips moved against mine like he was trying to pour five days of missing me into this one perfect moment. I melted into him, my fingers tightening in his hair as he held me like I might disappear if he let go.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, I rested my forehead against his.
"So," he said, his voice rough. "Coffee tomorrow morning?"
I smiled, feeling giddy, reckless, and perfectly happy. "Only if it's on your patio with the bay view and I get to wear your t-shirt."
His head jerked back in mock surprise as he slowly let me slide down until my feet hit the floor. "Are you asking to spend the night with me, Brooke Wallace?"
I took a step back, grinning. "Too presumptuous?"
"Hell no." He grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the door. "See you later, Davina!"
"Call me tomorrow," she shouted back, and I glanced over my shoulder to see her standing next to Kali, both of them looking starry-eyed and proud of themselves.
That's when it hit me. They'd planned this whole thing.
I smiled and mouthed 'Thank you' to my scheming, wonderful friends. Thank you for not letting me self-sabotage. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for believing in happily ever after when I'd forgotten how to believe in it myself.
As Matt pulled me out into the cool night air, his hand warm in mine, I couldn't help but laugh at the beautiful absurdity of it all. Sometimes the best love stories start with the worst decisions. Sometimes you have to lose something to realize how much you want to fight for it.
And sometimes, if you're really lucky, your friends will stage an elaborate romantic intervention involving bribed bartenders and interpretive dance.
I squeezed Matt's hand as we walked toward his truck, knowing we still had things to work out, like how to mesh our lives together, but after tonight, I was pretty sure we were going to have a lot of nights ahead of us.