Chapter 17.3
Everyone was acting normal, never mind the unspoken tension between Matt and myself. We were in the dining room, a room I rarely used. The boxes of old ballet costumes stacked on one side a testament to that fact. The conversation around the table was not about anything in particular. My friends talking to Matt’s friends while we both avoided each other’s gaze. I sighed and pushed the food around my plate. My buzz had disappeared and my appetite had gone AWOL since the argument. It seemed Matt wasn’t hungry either, as he silently drank his glass of water, eyes meeting mine over the rim for a second before our gaze skittered away from each other.
“Blimey,” Nathan coughed and snatched up his glass. “This is spicy.”
I caught Matt’s eyes on me, and we shared a slight smile.
“I’ll get more water,” I announced, reaching for the almost empty jug and getting to my feet.
“I’ll help you,” Matt said, pushing back his chair and standing up.
My back stiffened. Everyone started talking louder to cover the sudden awkwardness as I walked out of the room and headed to the kitchen with Matt close on my heels. It was obvious he wanted to ‘talk.’ I didn’t need help to get a jar of water, unless he felt I was too drunk to do it. I gritted my teeth in silent irritation, remembering the verbal assault he’d hurled at me upstairs. Humph. Cutting just like Grumps. I didn’t know what he’d done with my last bottle of whiskey. If I found out he’d thrown it down the sink, I would kick his ass into another race.
“Poppet,” he murmured, resting his strong hand on my lower back. A tingle of electricity went through me at his touch. I eased away. Electricity was all well and good, served a purpose, but it was dangerous, too. Both literally and figuratively in Matt’s case.
He sighed and let me move away. I grabbed a bottle of water from one of the cupboards and emptied it into the jar under Matt’s intense stare.
“Are you going to talk to me?” he asked.
I shrugged, not wanting to get into it. He sighed, then reached over to take the pitcher from my hands.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back, poppet.”
I watched as he walked out of the kitchen, noting the lines of his broad back under his shirt. His jacket was on my bed. I needed to remind him of that before he left. Was his tie upstairs also?
“Stupid man,” I muttered under my breath. I went over to the fridge and grabbed a can of beer. The fizzing sound when I opened it brought me comfort. It was fucked up, I know. My behaviour the past couple of days was cringe-worthy, but it helped me through this dismal time. Helped me deal with the pain…hide from the pain, numbed the pain. I brought the can to my lips and drank like a parched convict seeking freedom at the bottom of the aluminium can. Screw therapy, I had my own therapy and all it cost was a trip to Sainsbury’s or Marks Spencer’s and a walk down the alcohol aisle. The demon drink. Once a year, he was my closest friend. He helped me in a way no one could. He made me forget my dreaded secret.
“Poppet,” Matt said from the doorway. How long had he been standing there?
I choked, spluttering beer down my mouth and chin. Shit.
He closed the door behind him and walked over as I clumsily wiped my face. God. I didn’t need another dose of his cold reprimands.
“Please, Matt. I don’t want to know how irresponsible I’m acting—”
“I wasn’t going to say that, Madi,” he interrupted quietly. “I don’t want to fight anymore, not today, not with you.”
“Me neither.” I observed him suspiciously. “What were you going to say then?”
He gave me a strained smile and reached for my messy curls. “Your hair is wild today.”
Instinctively, I reached up with my free hand to try and smooth it back. Matt stopped me.
“I like it, poppet.”
I snorted in disbelief and his smile stretched even further. He leaned down and pressed the softest of kisses over my lips.
“Happy birthday.” A kiss on the corner of my lips. “I love you.” Another kiss, this time across my cheek. “And I’m taking the next few days off work.” His mouth brushed over my temple. “So you’re not alone in this.” He found my lips again, slowly exploring the inner crevices of my mouth until I was moaning softly with pent up desire. Those chaste kisses after our dates were all well and good, but this was what I needed. His warm, sensuous lips masterfully claiming mine. I really needed this. The can of beer slipped from my fingers and fell with a little clink, spilling over my kitchen floor and rolling away. I snaked my hands up Matt’s chest, over his shoulders, until they ended up threading through his silky hair. Matt groaned and wrapped his arms around me before hoisting me up on the counter. God. I missed this. Of their own accord my legs wrapped around him and, when he pressed his lower body against me, the noises coming from us became desperate.
I pulled away from his consuming kiss, breathless and shaky. “Are we still doing this dating crap?”
Matt looked at me, bottom lip caught between his perfect teeth. “Yes.”
I groaned in frustration and arched my body against his. Matt’s eyes slipped closed for a moment before he opened them. The lust spilling out of his eyes tore a whimper from my throat.
“Can we have sex, Matt?”
He licked his lips. “Yes.”
I was unbuttoning his shirt. The moment his tongue had made an appearance, the impulses coming from my brain to my hands were: Get him naked.
His hand covered mine. “Not now, poppet. We’ve got a house full of guests, and the things I want to do to you…” He inhaled roughly. “We need to be alone for me to make love to you the way I need to.”
Hot damn. The man had a way with words, but he did have a point. I sighed loudly, pressed up to his muscly goodness and aching. Only Matt could make me ache like this.
But I needed to address his previous comment. “Fine, I’ll wait until we’re alone so you can—”
“Shag you senseless, poppet,” he finished huskily.
Another shiver ran through me and my heart started racing, a medically worrying level of racing. This had to be bad for my health. No organ should be subjected to that level of activity. I inhaled deeply to calm my body down, then said, “I don’t want you taking time off work, Matt. You’re busy and it’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.”
He pulled back slightly to look at me square on. “Madi.”
“Matt, I’ll be fine. My friends are here.”
“Aren’t they flying back to the States tomorrow?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Dante’s got my back. Look, don’t worry about me. I’m sor—” I paused, the apology for the drama earlier on the tip of my tongue. “You apologize first, then I will.”
Matt gave me a bemused smile. “Why am I apologizing, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I shot him a sarcastic look and he winked at me. He slipped a hand under the edge of my boob tube. Fingers stroking upwards until…
“Matt.” My heart rate picked up a fast tempo as he fondled me gently. That gentleness disappeared seconds later when I leaned in closer to him. Matt groaned, squeezing my breast, and I groaned along with him. Forget the people in my dining room. The kitchen door was closed. They should know not to come in here. My fingers had resumed their attack on the buttons of his shirt while my lips crept across his masculine jaw.
“Sorry,” he said with a raspy voice before dragging his hand out from under my top. The hell?
I leaned back, fighting the frown on my face. “What are you sorry for? Calling me an immature brat? Jacking up Bret? Stealing my whiskey? Or pussy teasing me? Because this teasing shit deserves an apology.”
Matt’s face reflected shock at my choice of words, then his tongue swept over his sexy lips as he waggled his eyebrows at me in a lecherous manner. “Say that word again, poppet,” he said, and I blushed furiously. It had slipped out.
“No,” I muttered self-consciously, and Matt chuckled.
“Go on, say it again. I’ve never heard you use such a term before. I’m not sure I like it, so you have to say it once again in order for me to decide if it’s too vulgar. Maybe more than once.”
“Idiot.” I unhooked my legs from around his waist and wriggled over the counter. Matt’s hands gripped my hips, holding me still.
“Once more, poppet,” he pleaded, and my face heated up again. He grinned at me, a devious glint in his eyes. “Blushing?”
“Black girls—”
“Don’t blush.” He laughed. “So you say, yet you are.”
I braced the palms of my hands against his chest and pushed. Matt stepped back, giving me that impish look. Honestly. For a thirty-seven-year-old gazillionaire, he liked messing about way too much.
“In response to your previous point though—” He got serious. “I’m not staying away again. We’re in a relationship and, in case you didn’t know, people in a relationship support each other during the hard times. I’m staying over and will be plastered to your side for the next few days, poppet. Accept it and move on.”
Bossy. Bossy. Infuriatingly bossy.
“There’s no need,” I said, frustrated as I hopped off the counter. It was bad enough he’d seen me in the state I was today. “I’ll be in the studio all day tomorrow, then Wednesday—” I broke off sharply, not wanting to think about my upcoming trip to the cemetery.
Matt saw the look on my face and moved towards me. I turned away, giving him my back. I grabbed a roll of kitchen towels and proceeded to tidy up the spilt beer on the floor. By the time I dumped the soggy towels and can in the bin, my emotions were encased behind a wall of longstanding denial. I was in control. I would get through this.
“Dante’s going to be with me anyway, Matt,” I said in an attempt to reassure him. “Plus, there’s nowhere for you to sleep tonight—”
“I beg your pardon?” The chilly tone of his voice gave me pause. “Explain yourself, poppet, because you’re not making any sense.”
“Well,” I started slowly, silently cursing in my head. “Um, Bret and Sol are in the spare room.”
“And?” His voice had dropped to a low growl. And it wasn’t the sexy kind.
My throat closed up. The expression on his face had my mind yelling, “Danger, Madison DuMont. Danger.”
Matt folded his arms across his chest, straightening up to his full intimidating height. “I know you’re not about to say what you’re about to say, Madison. I know you’re not implying that there’s no room in your bed because someone else is in it with you. I fucking know you are not telling me that for the past few nights Dante has been sleeping in your bed instead of on the couch. The same Dante who I know shouldn’t have keys to your front door anymore.”
Danger, Madison DuMont. Danger, danger, danger.
“I thought we weren’t fighting anymore, Matt?” I rubbed my neck, frantically thinking up ways to avoid an explosion of epic proportion. Would he try and jack Dante up too? Bret would jump in, Dante was his boy. Then Nathan might come to Matt’s assistance. And Sol wasn’t going to let anyone harm her man. Her half-Latino side was not to be messed with. Would Bella get involved? She didn’t look the type to get rowdy. But what if the brownies and the bit of alcohol she’d drunk made her see red when Sol beat the crap out of her man…and Sol was definitely capable of doing that.
USA vs. UK, and I had attachments to both. Which side would I have to pledge allegiance to? If the shit hit the fan, who would get splattered?
As the imagined, but totally possible scene unfolded before my eyes, Matt waited silently, bristling like a porcupine that had been disturbed.
I started in a small voice. “He is my best fri—”
Matt was already striding towards the kitchen door. Danger, danger, danger.
“Matt.” I went after him. Unfortunately I must not have mopped up all the spilt beer, because my right sock-clad heel hit a wet patch and I let out a high-pitched shriek as I collided into Matt’s back. He grunted from the sudden impact, and we both toppled to the ground. At least my fall was cushioned, Matt wasn’t so lucky.
“Bloody hell, poppet.” He groaned, cheek pressed to the floor. “There’s no need to attack me from behind. No need at all.”
“It was an accident,” I gushed, laying on top of Matt’s back and taking a few seconds to catch my breath. Keeping him flat out on the tiles was an unexpected advantage. The danger might not have been averted yet. Matt wriggled beneath me, and I slid off him as he tried to sit up. The door swung open and five astonished pairs of eyes battled to see what was going on. They must have heard the commotion.
“I told you he was rough with her,” Dante exclaimed to Bret as he came into the kitchen and manhandled me up on my feet. Matt made a low sound in the back of his throat, like a warning, as he sat up fully.
Bret walked in. “He’s rough with you, MSG? Nah, man, I ain’t having this shit. This brother about to get mad up in here.”
“What’s happening, Nathan?” Bella tried to ease past Nathan, who got shouldered back by Sol.
“Que paso?” she asked, eyeing Matt with suspicion.
“Matt, are you okay?” Nathan asked. “What’s going on? What did she do to you?”
I looked at Matt scowling on my kitchen floor with a lock of his silky black hair over his forehead and his shirt partly unbuttoned. Respectable business tycoon didn’t fit right at this moment. Pissed off hottie was more suitable. The giggle slipped out. Matt narrowed his eyes at me. The grey orbs sparkling with annoyance. I giggled again before taking it down from Defcon 1 to Defcon 3. No way would I be able to get Matt to Defcon 5 level, not after admitting my recent sleeping arrangements. I honestly didn’t know why he was stressing. Dante had a girlfriend, and we’d been friends forever. Sharing the same pillows didn’t mean anything, did it? It was like sleeping with Sol…well, kind of. Sol didn’t wake up with a—
“Okay,” I said loudly to quiet the words in my head and diffuse the drama. “D, I told you before, Matt’s not rough with me.” I smirked at Bret. “Dude, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times: You’re white, not black. And Matt is way stronger than you. No one is getting mad up in here.” I used air quotations. It was necessary when dealing with Bret.
Sol nodded in agreement.
I arched an eyebrow at Nathan. “What did I do to him? He’s twice my size, Nathan. Get real.” Then I smiled at Bella. “I hope the food wasn’t too spicy, Bella. I can make you something else if you want.”
Everyone began to speak at once. I looked down at Matt and smiled. He always made me smile, when we weren’t yelling at each other, of course.
The annoyance on his face faded away as he watched me. I held a hand out to him and he took it. Seconds later, he was on his feet and I was topping up my quota of ‘Matt hugs’.
“We’re not going to fight anymore today,” he whispered in my ear. “But keep your schedule free on Friday, because we will be having words, poppet.”
I nodded into the crook of his neck—being on tiptoes gained me access—and I kissed his collarbone before pulling away. I would deal with Friday when it came. Surviving Wednesday was my main concern.
We trooped back into the cramped dining room and the conversation flowed easily, bar the threatening glances and tone Matt had whenever addressing Dante. He was possessive, and I didn’t know why. Then, I remembered that witch ex-girlfriend of his, and the way random women would sex him with their eyes whenever we were in public. I could understand it a little. The green-eyed monster dwelled within me, too.
By the time Nathan said he was taking Bella home, I hadn’t figured out how to convince Matt to give me my space. Bella was beaming at us, giving hugs to each of my friends and her posh voice got posher it seemed when she was buzzed. She’d been in the brownies again, and her perfect messy bun was more messy than bun, her cheeks had a rosy tint to them and she was eye humping Nathan. I tried my hardest not to catch the secret glimpses between them. Because Bella had driven here, Nathan was taking her car and leaving his for Matt. And seven became five. After an hour of Sol interrogating Matt in the nicest possible way—nice for Sol that is; there was mention of torture thrown in between her questions—I slipped upstairs to nab Matt’s discarded tie and jacket, then came back down with the clothing slung over my arm. Not very subtle.
Matt bit the corner of his lower lip. He did it out of frustration, but ended up looking sexy as hell. Sol looked over at me and mouthed “Hot stuff.” Yeah. Wasn’t he just?
“Everyone say bye bye to Matt,” I said walking over to where he sat on the couch. My friends bid him goodbye, and I tapped my foot slightly. Matt sighed and reluctantly stood up, hands held out for his jacket and tie.
“Walk me out?” he asked.
I nodded and slid my hand into his. We headed for the front door. Matt paused to glance at my friends, his gaze resting on Dante.
“Palmer,” he called, and Dante twisted his head, eyebrow raised in question. Oh crap. What was Matt going to say? “Your imprint better be on that sofa, and not Madi’s bed, when next I come by. Sol, Bret, nice meeting you both. Have a good flight home.”
He flashed them a killer smile and tugged me forward. I rolled my eyes as he opened the front door and we walked out together. My lack of shoes had gone unnoticed by Matt. He juggled his jacket on his arm, while plucking Nathan’s car keys from his pocket.
“Matt,” I murmured on approach to the flashy car. “I’m sorry for not—” The words stuck in my throat.
Matt waited silently, giving me a much-needed moment to get my thoughts straight. When that moment turned into a minute, he pressed quietly, “Sorry for what, poppet?”
“Not being the perfect girlfriend,” I muttered, before looking away from his intense gaze.
Matt sighed and reached over to grasp my chin, tilting my head back in his direction. “Perfection is highly overrated, poppet. If I wanted the perfect girlfriend, I would be with someone like Louisa.”
My eyes narrowed at that comment. Urgh. Louisa, previously known as Aphrodite, now named Medusa in my mind. “I’m far from perfect, Matt. Today proved that.”
“Yes,” Matt agreed with the tiniest of frowns. “But we’ll discuss that on Friday. How are your friends getting to Heathrow tomorrow?” He changed the subject, but the frown on his lips didn’t disappear. I was beginning to dread this upcoming Friday.
“I’m driving—”
“No, you’re not.” Matt cut me off in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ll send a car around for your use tomorrow. It’s highly improbable you’ll be under the limit by the time they need to leave. If you get stopped, you’ll be arrested and it’ll be in the papers.”
I didn’t think I would be over the limit tomorrow, but better safe than sorry, and they did have an early flight.
“You have a point there, but you don’t need to send a car. We can get a taxi.”
Matt scoffed. “Heading to Heathrow on a weekday? It’ll cost a fortune. The car will be here at five am. Sol said their flight is at nine, right? Afterward, he’ll take you to work and bring you back home when you’re finished at the studio.”
It would have taken too much effort to disagree with him, so I didn’t. “Thanks, hon.”
We exchanged silent stares, then I went up on tiptoes to kiss him square on the lips. “I’ll be better next week. I promise, Matt. I won’t embarrass you like this again. Will you let Nathan and Bella know I’m not usually this way, please?”
Matt pulled back. I thought I would have been able to kiss that frown off his lips. “I told you before, poppet. You could never embarrass me. Now, go back inside. You’ve only got socks on. I’ll call you later; answer your mobile.”
I nodded slowly, then walked away. When I stood in front the door, I turned to see Matt watching me.
“I love you, Matthew Bradley,” I yelled at the top of my voice. Ha! That would embarrass him.
Matt looked around startled, and rubbed a hand across his lower face. He shook his head and sent me a wide smile, mouthing “Love you, too.”
I waved as he got in his friend’s car and drove off. He had seen me acting a fool on my birthday and he hadn’t run a mile. Maybe, just maybe, Matt was potentially my forever man. So what if our relationship hadn’t hit the six month mark yet and we had a lot to learn about each other? I walked in my house and three pairs of eyes swivelled in my direction.
“He’s nice, MSG,” was the first thing out of Sol’s mouth. Her expression was solemn, almost sad. “But he’s going to break your heart. As hot as he is, he’s way too old for you, MSG.”
I shut my door, shrugging as I peeled off my socks and flung them aside. “He won’t break my heart, and he’s not too old, Sol.”
“He better not,” Bret grumbled. “Or else I’ll hunt him down. I don’t care how rich he is.”
Dante stayed silent, eyes following my movements as I sat down next to Sol on the couch.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” I said, slinging my arm over Sol’s shoulders.
She pulled me into a hug. “You guys are coming home for Thanksgiving, right? That’s only a little over a month, MSG.”
She was right. I’d be seeing them soon. For now, I’d enjoy the little time we had left. Dante uncoiled his lithe body from off the floor, stretching. Both Sol and I stared in appreciation. Beauty deserved admiration.
“Time for me to rustle up peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” he said with a warm glance my way. I grinned and nodded. It was tradition.
Bret slid off the couch, seemed he was going to help Dante. “I’ll make the Kool-Aid. You two are weird. How long have you been doing this ritual?”
Dante shrugged. “Since Madi was seven. Shit. When you look at how long we’ve known each other—”
“You get less time for manslaughter,” Sol piped up with a chuckle.
The four of us fell silent for a few seconds, exchanging looks of friendship, of love.
Damn. I freaking adored my people.
Dante and Bret started towards the door, with Bret casually throwing over his slim shoulder, “Now your rich man has gone, MSG, I hope you know that ass of yours has five more lashes due.”
I flipped him off and snuggled against Sol. Five more lashes? No biggie. I’d take a whipping from Bret any day. From any one of them. For any one of them. I loved my friends.