Chapter 22 #2
I let him pull me onto the bed, and we tumble into a heap of limbs and linens.
My arms go around his waist. His loop around my neck.
He’s on his back, and I’m half on top of him with my thigh between his parted legs.
Our mouths come together like it’s the only right thing we’ve ever known.
Like no matter how heavy the burden, connecting like this eases the load.
I want to lay here and kiss him until his expression is open and willing to accept that he did everything right tonight. Exactly as I would have done it.
I want him to kiss me until I stop overthinking, until I stop seeing the intense pain in his eyes when ours met in the hospital bathroom—as if I would blame him or hate him.
I never want him to think I could feel even a modicum of that kind of negativity toward him.
I love him too goddamn much.
“Matty,” I breathe his name, and his fingers twist in my hair, digging at my scalp. “Matty, sweetheart.”
He shudders in my arms and buries his face in the crook of my neck. His eyes dampen my skin, and for a few moments we just lie there, holding one another. I pretend not to hear his breathing quiver; I just stroke along the planes of his bare skin warm against my own.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I whisper, his only answer a kiss to my throat. “But I need to talk, alright, sweetheart?”
Silence. I loop an arm around his waist and hold him tight.
“I am so proud of you.” His muscles tense, and I flatten my palm between his shoulder blades. “I know we said a lot of shit about putting on an act for my sister. Not asking for forever. Blah blah blah. Let’s face it; we’re both full of shit, and we know it.”
Another little kiss, and I press my own lips to the top of his head. “I'm in love with you, Matty Nichols. There's no doubt in my mind. You are who I want. The only person I've ever wanted this way.”
He tries to pull away—to look at me maybe—but I grip the back of his neck with gentle fingers, urging him to stay.
“I’m not done.” The words aren’t even out of my mouth yet, and my heart is breaking.
“Seeing you this tore up, Matty? It kills me.
Because this is life with us. It's painful sometimes, but seeing Calum smile?
Seeing him when something we've been working on clicks?
It's fucking magical and worth all of the pain in the world.”
I don’t ever want to let Matty go. I want him in my arms in every future imaginable. I want him to trust me that we can get through anything together. The three of us.
I want it so badly that my heart fights what I’m about to say next, but it needs to be said.
“You very recently told me you weren't ready for something serious.
Cal and I? We are as serious as it comes.
We're a package deal. And I know you love the shit out of him just like I love the shit out of you.
Even if your feelings for me have changed, if you do want something more .
.. You can't be ready to commit to both of us, Matty.
And I can't split myself between the two of you.”
Everything is unsteady. The shaky foundation we started on is crumbling under our weight. I want to save it—to save him—but there isn’t enough of me to save us both.
I finally let him pull away, and his eyes aren’t only wet, they’re a rainfall of sadness flowing down his cheeks. If only I could tell him everything would be okay, because I want it to be, I’d do anything for it to be, but the truth is I don’t know.
Matty has to decide he’s ready for all of the baggage I come with, and I don’t think he is.
I take a deep breath and know the worst is about to come.
“After the wedding,” I start, and I can already see the realization in his eyes. I wonder if he can see the heartbreak in mine. “I think we need to take a breather.”
He starts to shake his head, but I slip my fingers into his braid and tug his head still, large fearful eyes watching me.
“I’m not kicking you out. I don’t have the heart. I want you in my bed for all of eternity.” My chuckle is humorless, and it’s so hard to look him in the eyes when they’re filled with so much pain.
“But I think we should set some boundaries. Miya will be gone; it’s probably best if you go back to the couch.
No more staying up when I get home from work.
I’ll find Cal a new babysitter so you don’t have to take all of that on by yourself.
” This is the kicker, what’s going to rip my heart out.
“We need to start looking for an apartment for you.”
Matty’s composure shatters, and I can’t fucking take it.
One sob is all that slips out before I crash my mouth on top of his. He claws at my back, pushing up to meet my kiss with the same ferocity, with an urgency that matches the overactive beating of my heart.
Tell me no, I think. Tell me I’m wrong.
But I know I’m not. I know by the way he clings to me, by the tears that won’t stop falling.
“I love you,” I gasp between kisses, because I need him to hear me.
I need him to feel it as deep down as I do.
“I love you, and I want you, but I don’t want to break you.
I don’t want you to be constantly afraid that I might pull the rug out from under you.
If we ever do this, I want it to be an equal partnership. ”
I nip at his lip and suck it between my teeth until a whimper rises in his throat. “I want you to know without a doubt that you belong.”
Because he does. Right here. With Me. He just needs to see it. Accept it.
“Lee,” he rasps in a hoarse whisper. “Can I be your doll? Please?”
Oh, Matty.
I kiss him one last time and ease him onto his back, pushing myself up so I can look down at him. His cheeks are a bright, splotchy hue, and his braided hair is half tugged free, frizzed along his face and the pillowcase.
I stroke my fingers along his cheek, over his nose to the other side, across his chin, down the length of his neck.
My palm rests over his heart, feeling the thump beneath his skin.
Fingertips scrape across nipples, pad along the scars below.
Trail to the V of his hips, pressing my fingers to the soft flesh and tracing the band of his boxers.
“Do you need to lay here and take it, Princess?”
His lips part, and his chest heaves with each shuddered breath. Expressive, golden eyes answer where his words can’t.
“This is going to hurt.” I lean down to kiss his eyelids. “Because it’s going to be slow and soft. Because I’m going to make you feel how deeply I’ve fallen for you.”
Matty’s hands touch my face, only a ghost of a touch, and when he pulls them back, they motion out two, small words.
‘Hurt me.’