Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLIE
My hand shakes as I unlock the front door with the shared building code. I push it open and glance back to make sure Matt’s close enough behind me to keep it open. Holy crap on a cracker he’s hot. How am I going to pull this off?
I lead him up the two short flights of stairs to my apartment, careful not to catch the toe of my heavy boots. The tripping hazard they present when I’m not nervous is already high.
And right now my heart is racing.
I remind it we’re just trying to get laid, not getting hunted for sport. I played that conversation as cool as I could, but now I have to figure out how to actually make this happen. Oh god, this is going to be a top-five embarrassing moment. I can feel it.
Okay, deep breaths. Matt is hot and tall and giving major gentleman vibes. He mentioned his mom, so he’s probably a good person. I think that’s a thing. He also offered to walk me home and didn’t jump on the chance to come inside with me. So he’s polite and not just some fuckboy.
Oh crap.
He’s not just some fuckboy.
He’s totally going to turn me down. Ugh, he’s probably going to think I’m the fuckboy.
I have to stop using that word.
At least he’ll probably do it really nicely. I still have to give it a go, right? He was practically handed to me on a silver platter. Feels like a sign from the universe. Have to shoot my shot and all that.
I muster the confidence of my alter ego fuckboy and take the last few steps to the door of my apartment.
Trying to think about what Matt’s seeing for the first time, I study the entrance as I pull my keys out.
The black paint is slightly chipped in some places, but overall the wood door has classic charm with its little brass knocker.
This place has become my home away from home over the past few months and I’m proud to call it mine. It’s small, only one bedroom, but the exposed brick and parquet floor give it so much character. And it’s just me here anyway.
Well, usually.
I think of the slight (okay, massive) mess I left in my room while I picked out my “time to get laid” outfit, and falter slightly.
I guess I wasn’t thinking this night through fully.
All right, this is probably just a one-time thing anyway, and anyone who can’t handle my disorganized self probably wouldn’t work out in the long run if it came to that.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn the key in the lock and push the door open with my arm, angling myself to let him through.
Matt smiles at me and then walks in, pausing in the entryway as he waits for me to shut and lock the door. He’s still smiling when I slip my shoes off and hang up my jacket.
“What?” I ask him, my own grin growing on my face.
“Nothing. This is cute. Is it just you here?”
I narrow my eyes at him.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man, is that like a classic Ted Bundy line?”
I preen at the notion he remembered what I said all those weeks ago. “Just a little,” I tell him.
“I just meant because it seems small.” Matt winces. “Not that that’s a bad thing,” he rushes to explain. “I’m gonna shut up. Can I put my jacket there?” he asks, pointing to the wall rack where I hung mine.
I give him a nod and head into the kitchen—two steps away—and open the fridge.
My apartment is small, the living room, foyer, and kitchen all kind of one room.
Other than a small stacked laundry closet, it’s just the bathroom and a bedroom that barely fits my queen bed.
A real estate agent might call it quaint. Or cozy.
“Would you like water or…sparkling water? Shoot,” I huff as I look at the contents here. “I thought I had more, sorry.”
“That’s okay, I’m done drinking for the night, so water is great,” he responds.
I fill two glasses and set them on the bar, then rest on the counter across from the two barstools I have there.
Matt sits on one facing me and reaches up to pull his hat off before flipping it backward and putting it back on.
He leans forward on his elbows and rests his chin on his hands, looking so striking up close like this I feel like I have to stave off a physical reaction. The word swoon floats through my mind.
I take advantage of my first unhindered view of Matt and commit this sight to memory.
His dark hair is trimmed short on the sides and looks longer up top where it peeks out the front of his cap.
I can see some grays coming through at his temples that only add to his good looks.
There’s a small scar through his right eyebrow that catches my attention, making me wonder how he got it.
Maybe a bar fight or some accident? I fight the involuntary urge to press a hand to my own.
Below that, his dark green eyes are focused on me as I continue to survey his handsome face.
And other than where another small mark scars his chin, uniform stubble covers a defined jaw and a bit below.
He’s got a mostly straight nose with a little crook in the bridge, and disgustingly perfect, pouty lips that are stretching wide as I fail to hide my casual perusal of his features.
I stop staring and grab one of the water glasses from the counter, holding it up in cheers. He grabs the other and clinks my glass with his. That broad smile is slowly covered as he brings the water up to his mouth.
Superman is in my apartment. Drinking out of my favorite thrifted cups. Unknowingly cheersing my decision to shoot my shot.
Bombs away.
“So I have a proposition for you,” I blurt.
Matt sputters a bit and coughs, setting his glass down on the counter with a loud clink. Whoops. Could’ve timed that better.
“A proposition?” he asks with raised eyebrows.
I can feel the blush on my cheeks, but I know this is my chance, so here goes.
“Yes. So”—I clear my throat—“before I moved here a few months ago I lived in Boston with my boyfriend, Josh. Well, ex-boyfriend now, but current boyfriend then. I’m single now, we aren’t still together.
You get it. Anyway, we actually broke up a couple of months before I moved so it’s been a while since we were, like, together together. ”
I don’t think Matt’s eyebrows can go any higher at this point.
“And I don’t know about you, but that’s kind of a long time, ya know?
And the more I think about it, the more worried I am that when I eventually get together with someone new, I’ll forget what to do or be bad at it.
And what if I ruin my next relationship before it starts because the first time we have…
you know…I forget what to do and suck? I mean, it’s a lot of pressure, and I was with my old boyfriend for a longish time, so it’s not like I have a lot of experience with what different people do.
I just kind of know what we used to do…”
I trail off and take a breath. I study my hands holding the water glass. Very smooth, Ellie. Word vomit is sexy.
“I know I sound crazy and I swear I’m not. I just feel like it would be best if I could kind of rip the Band-Aid, so to speak, and try…getting together…with someone.”
I look up at Matt and notice I have his full attention. His eyes are trained on my face and, thank friggin’ heavens, he’s not laughing at me or looking at me like I am, in fact, crazy. Time to wrap up this pitch.
“What do they say? It’s like riding a bike? Or something like that. So…um, yeah, I guess my proposition is asking you if you’d be willing to do that. With me. And go into it with all the information I just shared so you aren’t disappointed if I’m not…well…good.”
Riiiip.
Okay. I did it. Well, I did the first part. Still an accomplishment. I give myself a mental high five and take a breath.
Matt picks up his water and drinks the rest in three big swallows.
I watch his throat bob and feel the first inkling of excitement over the possibility of doing this with him.
He’s so attractive it’s borderline offensive, and probably…
seven years older than me? Ten? So he’s got to be experienced. This would be perfect. If he says yes.
Matt sets his glass down and studies my face. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.
“I know this is weird,” I hurry to add. “I’m not exactly a super-forward person, so that should speak to how nervous-slash-desperate I am.
” I take a few sips of my water and find myself wishing it was one of those mojitos.
One, because yum. And two, liquid courage.
I had three drinks at the bar earlier tonight and the buzz has long since worn off.
This is so embarrassing. I set the glass down and spin it a little, watching my hands.
“So, to be clear. You want to have sex. With me. As…practice?”
My head jerks up at his question. Crap, did I insult him? I give him an apologetic smile. “Sounds pretty bad, huh?”
He’s going to say no. Okay, that’s okay. Plenty of other fish in the sea and all that. Probably not pretty, sparkly fish like him, but maybe there are shiny enough ones around somewhere. Just not at the bar I went to tonight.
“I can honestly say I’ve never been propositioned like that.”
I huff out a laugh. “I would hope not.”
“When did you move from Boston?”
“October,” I say slowly. It feels like I can see him doing the mental calculation for when I last had sex.
“And you want to do this…tonight?”
Wait, is he considering this? “Well, yes? If you’re…you know…up for it,” I ramble, cringing at the unintended innuendo.
Matt smiles again, blessedly ignoring my bad choice of words. “What would you have done if we hadn’t run into each other tonight?”
I hesitate. “Gone to bed?” I suggest.
“And who is going to rip the Band-Aid if I don’t?”
I cannot believe this conversation is happening. “Well, you see, tonight was the first night I was, uh, actively looking, if you will.”
Please kill me.
The side of his mouth curves. “Looking for what, Ellie?”
“A proper suitor for the occasion,” I tell him with a straight face.
Matt barks out a laugh. “That’s very cute. Okay, am I the first proper suitor you’ve propositioned?”
I nod.
“What is it that makes me a proper suitor?” His grin turns wicked and that’s when I realize he is trying to make me work for this.
Game on.
“Convenience,” I say sweetly and bat my eyelashes.
Matt lets out another laugh and shakes his head. “Fine, I’ll stop fishing for compliments.” He pauses. “So if I’m practice, who’s endgame?”