Chapter 26 Friday #2
I don’t even try to hide the ridiculous grin that spreads across my face.
“Next!” The ride operator ushers the next group of riders through the gate. We’re the last two to make it on.
Matthew scans over the track ahead of us as we buckle our seatbelts. “This doesn’t look like a ride for kids.” He points to a spot on the rail that curves to the side. “That’s basically upside down.”
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I assure him as the ride begins to inch forward.
The second we pick up speed, Matthew grabs my knee. And less than a minute later, when we get to the slight right turn that he described as “basically upside down,” I feel his entire body tense beside me.
“You okay?” I steal a glance in his direction. His face has turned a sickly shade of green. “Oh no.”
“I’m fine.” I can barely hear his whisper over the sound of the ride. “Totally fine.” His grip on me tightens.
As soon as we come to a halt, I yank him off the ride and lead him toward an empty space behind an abandoned street cart. I reach into my tote and hand him my barf bag. “Here. Let it out.”
He takes it from my hands wordlessly and does just that.
Not even the sight of him heaving up our entire boardwalk buffet is enough to dull my feelings for him. In fact, there’s something vulnerable about the way he’s hunching over a paper bag that makes me want him more.
I’m sick.
I am a sick person.
Matthew groans as he lowers himself to the ground, leaning his back against the cart and sticking his head between his knees.
“Better?” I ask, sitting down next to him.
When he rolls his head over to face me, I’m relieved to see that some of the color has returned to his face. “I really, really wish you didn’t have to see that.”
I scooch closer to him and place my hand on his back. “I’m just glad it was you and not me.” After everything that I’ve put myself through, Matthew puking in front of me before I got the chance to do it in front of him is nothing short of a miracle.
“It was the corn dog,” he whispers.
I continue rubbing his back while he gets himself together. “It was the corn dog,” I assure him, despite having eaten the exact same thing and keeping it down.
Eventually, he stands up and pulls me off the ground with him. “Do you have gum in that bag of yours?” he asks.
“Yes, but I can do you one better.” I pull out my water bottle and the little pouch where I keep my emergency toothbrush and toothpaste. “I’m always prepared for the worst.”
He accepts everything graciously, looking at me so affectionately that I have to break eye contact. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Thank you for being the first of us to yack.”
He takes a dramatic bow before he starts brushing his teeth.
“And just for the record…” he says through a mouth full of toothpaste, spitting the excess onto the ground.
Sexy. This must be how Ethan feels about Jamie.
“…you could throw your Frosted Flakes up all over me and I wouldn’t care. You’re so hard on yourself, but you could completely lose it in front of me and I’d never think any less of you.”
Oh.
My eyes begin to sting.
I don’t think there is a single quote from any book, line from any movie, or lyric to any song that will ever mean as much to me as what Matthew just said.
I stare at him through my cloudy vision, watching him move through the motions of brushing his teeth as if he didn’t just deliver the most groundbreakingly romantic speech I’ve ever heard in my life.
I lose all my patience. I pluck the toothbrush out of his hand, drop it to the ground, and throw my hands around his neck so I can pull his lips to mine.
The kiss is soft and minty and everything I’ve always wanted. Matthew lifts his hand to my cheek, and I can feel his thumb swiping back and forth over a tear. I pull away for a second and whisper against his mouth, “Thank you.”
His eyes turn dark and needy under his glasses.
He bobs his head up and down swiftly, a quick acknowledgment, before his lips come crashing back down onto mine.
If that first kiss was slow and tender, this one is anything but.
His mouth is hungry against mine as he pulls me as close to him as I can get.
He runs his tongue against my bottom lip and my hands instinctively crawl up his neck and bury themselves in his hair.
I need to get closer to him.
I tug him down to the ground by his shirt and press him against the empty street cart without breaking our kiss. He pulls me onto his lap, brushing my curls to the side so that he can get access to my neck. He nips at the skin above my collarbone and I let out a sound that I’ve never made before.
I startle myself.
“Oh god.” I untangle myself from Matthew’s lap and move to stand up. My legs feel like Jell-O.
He grabs my wrists and drags me back down next to him. “Don’t go,” he whimpers.
I fall back against the cart so that our sides are pressed up against each other. “I just thought about Danny,” I confess, still breathless.
“Who’s Danny?” he asks. His brow is furrowed with concern, but it’s hard to notice anything other than how adorably flushed his cheeks are and how his hair is mussed up in one hundred different directions. I reach out to smooth it down.
“The kid. My student. What if he and his mom walked by?”
“They didn’t,” he assures me, placing his hand on my thigh.
“I know, but can you imagine?” I cringe, standing up and offering my hand. “Come home with me.”
He nods excitedly while adjusting his position on the ground. “I just need a second.” He looks everywhere but at me.
“No rush,” I tell him, even though I really would prefer to get a move on and fast.
I have never needed anything more than I need Matthew Baxter in my bed.
—
“I can’t look at you,” I tell him while staring out the window of the passenger side. “You have to stop doing all that.” I make a vague, sweeping gesture over his hands gripping the steering wheel and the arms they’re connected to.
“You asked me to drive,” he says, laughing. “I can’t just take my hands off the wheel.”
I sigh. “You can at least take one hand off.”
He lifts his right hand from the wheel and places it on my thigh. “Better?”
My skin tingles so fiercely beneath his fingers that it’s hard to believe there’s any fabric separating us. “So much worse.” I pick up his hand and begin twisting his ring for a distraction.
“I’m excited for you to meet Jonathan in person,” I tell him as we get closer to my apartment. “I think you two will really hit it off.”
“I’m nervous,” he admits. “It feels like meeting your family.” Matthew and Jonathan met over FaceTime last week, when the three of us spent the better part of an hour trying to come up with the perfect answers to the prompts for Jonathan’s new Hinge profile.
It seems that with every passing day, Jonathan grows more comfortable in his own skin.
“Yeah, I guess he is my family,” I agree. “But you already met my family family at the wedding, and you were great. And Jonathan is far more normal than them.”
“Yeah, but this time is different because I’m meeting him as your…” He trails off midsentence.
“As my…”
He eyes me apprehensively. “As your invited guest.”
I cackle. “My invited guest,” I repeat. “I guess that works.”
For now.
We turn onto my street and I direct Matthew into the garage. He navigates my parking spot with an ease I haven’t even come close to after living here for two years.
“So, this is my garage.” I begin to label every landmark in the immediate vicinity.
It’s possible that I might be nervous, too.
“This is our dumpster. This is the gate to our apartment that doesn’t lock. That’s the front door.”
I freeze in place as I reach in my bag for my keys. “Oh no.”
“What?” Matthew asks. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you hear that?” I place my ear against the door and he does the same.
“Voices?” he asks.
“It’s an ambush,” I tell him. “I think my friends are in there.”
“That’s okay,” he assures me. “I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He gestures for me to open the door. The voices on the other side go quiet as I turn my key in the lock and walk inside. Matthew follows from behind.
Jonathan, Alex, and Meg are huddled around the dining room table with a deck of cards. In the twelve or so years that I’ve known them, not once have I seen any of them play cards. Not even a round of Go Fish. I can’t imagine which one of them even had the deck.
“Hello!” Meg greets us cheerfully.
“It’s great to see you,” Alex says to one of us or both of us, I’m not really sure. It’s oddly formal either way.
“You’re home!” Jonathan pushes his chair back from the table and stands up.
I pull Matthew deeper into the room. “Matthew, this is Jonathan, Alex, and Meg.” I point to each of them respectively, even though I know he already knows who’s who. “Everyone, this is Matthew.” I pause. “My invited guest.”
Matthew takes a step forward. “Hey, guys,” he says while waving. “It’s great to finally meet everyone. I’ve heard so much about you all.”
Jonathan walks over and sticks out his hand. “It really is so nice to officially meet you,” he says earnestly while giving Matthew one of those bro-hug pats on the back.
Alex gives him a hug that goes on for a second too long.
Meg asks routine questions about his trip and his jet lag until I cut her off.
“We’re going to go upstairs to put Matthew’s stuff down. Enjoy your cards.” I turn back to them as we make our way up the steps. “Who’s winning, by the way?”
“It’s not a winning sort of game,” Alex says.
“Jonathan,” Meg answers at the same time.
Jonathan shrugs guiltily.
I smile back at him and pull Matthew up the stairs by his hand.
“Nice meeting everyone!” he calls down the stairs one last time for good measure.
I close my bedroom door behind us and lock it just in case.
“Your friends are great,” Matthew tells me while doing a quick scan of my room. “And I can tell how much they love you.”
That makes me smile.
So does the sight of Matthew in my room.
“This is my room,” I tell him.
“So it is.” Matthew raises an eyebrow. “The room where it happens.”
“Was that a Hamilton reference?”
“It was.” He nods, looking smug.
“You’ve been listening to my playlists.”
“Of course I have.”
We begin walking toward each other, cautiously. The air between us feels more charged than it did in the car or on the pier. For the first time, I notice that my bed takes up most of my room. I sit down on the edge of it. I motion for Matthew to do the same.
“I can’t believe you flew across the country for our first date.” I shake my head in disbelief. “And I repaid you by stuffing you with the grossest food imaginable and forcing you on a ride that basically went upside down.”
“Don’t remind me,” he says, chuckling. “Actually, do. It was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“You’re lying.”
He raises his hand. “I swear on it.”
I frown. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time not kissing you when I could have been kissing you.”
“Well”—he takes my hand and begins tracing small circles around my thumb—“we’re here now. And we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”
I raise my eyebrows invitingly. “How are we going to do th—”
His lips are on mine before I can finish my question.