Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
the lie
BLAIR
The coffee waiting on the corner of my desk is more tempting than ever this morning.
My head feels like it’s currently being squeezed in a vise, and my exhausted eyes are way too sensitive to the harsh overhead lighting flooding the command center.
I’ve had hangovers before, but I haven’t had one like this since… ever.
Pointedly ignoring the coffee– while internally salivating over the prospect of caffeine– I step around my desk and slide my messenger bag off my shoulder, dropping into my chair with a pained groan.
If I’d managed to get a few more hours of sleep this morning, I have no doubt my shifter healing would’ve fixed me up by now. Instead, I stupidly peeled myself out of bed after snoozing my alarm for the third time and dragged my ass down here to report for work.
“Good morning,” Matty greets cheerfully, grinning behind his computer at the desk opposite mine.
My eyes bounce up to meet his, and that’s when it all comes flooding back. I’ve been stuck in a haze of sluggish thoughts since crawling out of bed, but as soon as I peer into those baby blues, my memories of last night surge in with startling clarity.
I kissed him.
Goddamnit, I kissed him.
What the fuck was I thinking?!
Matty’s still beaming that sexy-as-fuck grin my way, and all I can do is blink back at him in shock and dismay as that kiss replays over and over in my mind on a torturous loop.
His lips, his tongue. The nip of his teeth. He tasted like beer and bad decisions, and for some reason I couldn’t get enough of his particular brand of poison. His hands were in my hair, his body pressed tightly against mine…
My cheeks heat as I drop my gaze to my computer monitor, grabbing for my mouse and clicking it a few times to wake up the screen. The bright light sears my retinas as it comes on, prompting me to enter my login credentials.
Why the fuck did I kiss him?
He said he wondered what it’d be like, and I just fucking went for it like some deranged schoolgirl with a crush, all because he said I was pretty and smart and he liked me.
I’m going straight to hell. My fated mate was murdered by a hunter right before my eyes, and how did I honor his memory? By throwing myself at one.
Before, it was easy to just go on pretending that I hate him, but the reality of what I’ve done is forcing me to confront my very complicated feelings for Matty Blue Eyes.
I’m suddenly drowning in an ocean of regret and self-loathing, wishing I’d just skipped Lo’s stupid birthday celebration and spent the night wallowing in my dorm room.
Instead, I’m paying for my bad decisions in spades.
Despite the urge to crawl under my desk and hide for the remainder of this horrible day, I proceed with logging in and opening up my task list, determined to bury myself in work.
Easier said than done when I can still feel Matty watching me.
He’s right there, with those impossibly soft lips that I so recently kissed.
Those lips that felt so good against mine it should be a damn crime.
I lift a hand to rub at my temple as the light on my computer screen starts to pulse.
No, the screen isn’t pulsing, that’s my damn head. It’s fucking pounding.
I flicker a longing glance toward the coffee resting near the edge of my desk, tracing my tongue over the curve of my lower lip.
Caffeine would almost certainly ease this hangover-induced headache.
I’ve continually refused Matty’s gestures on principle, but I’m far too tempted to pick up that steaming cup of salvation right now.
Maybe just a little sip…
“How are you feeling?” he asks, the low, velvety rumble of his voice yanking me out of my mental spiral.
I jerk my head up to stare back at him, deadpan.
Doesn’t take a genius to see how much I’m struggling.
“Y’know, my uncle used to swear by this weird hangover cure,” he muses, swiping a hand over his chin thoughtfully. “He’d crack a raw egg into a glass of tomato juice…”
“Ugh,” I grunt, face screwing up in a grimace. “Are you trying to make me throw up right now?”
“It might make you feel better?” he suggests, shrugging.
I shake my head with a scowl. “No way I’m drinking that.”
“I meant throwing up. When I’m really sick, sometimes puking actually makes me feel better, like getting the poison out.”
“Shifters don’t get sick.”
He cocks a brow. “You sure?”
A teasing smirk pulls at his lips while I glare back at him, grinding my molars.
“I’ll be fine as soon as my wolf wakes up and my healing kicks in,” I mutter, dropping my gaze back to my too-bright computer screen.
In my peripheral vision I see Matty’s mouth hinge open like he’s going to say something else, but he evidently thinks better of it and a tense silence descends over us instead.
My head throbs as I try to force my eyes to focus on my computer monitor.
“So, are we gonna talk about it?” Matty asks hesitantly.
“Talk about what?” I reply absently.
“Last night.”
I dart a glance toward the back of the room, even though I already know Cam and Avery aren’t at their desks. They don’t typically come into the command center until after the squad’s morning training session.
“What about last night?” I murmur as my eyes return to my screen.
“You know…”
His stare burns into my face, and it takes everything in me to resist looking up at him as I mumble, “No, I don’t.”
“Blair,” Matty coaxes, dropping his voice lower and leaning in. “You kissed me.”
I snort a laugh, still refusing to look up at him. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“You’re delusional,” I scoff.
He slumps back in his chair with a huff, brows knitting together. “You really don’t remember that kiss? Or what happened after I brought you home?”
That gets my attention. My eyes snap up, heart stuttering a beat when our gazes collide. Anxiety climbs as I comb through my hazy memories of last night, realizing that I have no recollection of walking home from the bar, changing into my pajamas, getting into bed…
“What?” I choke, my brain short-circuiting.
“We had sex,” he deadpans.
“We what?!” I screech, shooting up to my feet. My hair swishes around my face as I shake my head adamantly, throwing up my hands. “No, absolutely not.”
It’s not possible. No matter how drunk I was, I definitely would’ve remembered if that forbidden fantasy finally came to fruition. And considering the weapon of mass destruction he’s hiding in his boxers, there’s no way I wouldn’t be sore this morning.
Matty cracks a smile. “You’re right, we didn’t.” He points a finger in my direction. “But we did kiss.”
I blink back at him as his words slowly sink in. At first, they bring relief, but the longer he wears that smug look on his face, the faster my relief gives way to fury.
“What the fuck, Matty?” I snarl, slapping my palms down against my desk. “Why would you lie about that?”
“Why would you lie about kissing me?” he counters, arching a brow.
I huff out an agitated breath as I drop back into my desk chair, stabbing my fingers through my hair. “You’re an asshole.”
“Takes one to know one,” he teases, those perfect lips that I had no business kissing curving into a smile.
I glare daggers at him as I cross my arms. “That kiss was a mistake,” I hiss, tongue dripping with venom. “As far as I’m concerned, it never happened, so just… don’t bring it up again. Ever. Matter of fact, let’s go back to only talking when it has to do with work.”
A flash of hurt sparks in his blue eyes, his nostrils flaring. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?”
“Yup,” I say, popping the P.
“Blair…”
The grit in his voice scrapes at something deep inside me, a dull ache taking root in my chest.
“It. Didn’t. Happen,” I bite out, stubbornly ignoring the riot of emotions threatening to surge forth.
He exhales a ragged breath as he hangs his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s what you really want?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I reply flatly, the ache in my chest intensifying.
Matty lifts his head, gaze hardening as it meets mine. “Fine.”
I should be glad that he immediately averts his eyes, pulling his chair in and getting back to work. I’ve been trying to ignore his presence here from day one, and now he’s finally giving up on his ridiculous pursuit of friendship and offering me the same treatment.
Except I’m not. Nothing about the silence that ensues feels good, and suddenly, the only thing worse than attracting his unwanted attention is being deprived of it.
Is this how it feels for him every day?
Guilt gnaws at me as I reach for my computer mouse and get to work.
He doesn’t make another attempt to strike up conversation, and without the distraction of his incessant chatter, the hours tick by far too slowly.
Cam and Avery never come by. My headache eventually subsides, but the sinking feeling in my stomach swells into a lead weight of regret.
It’s not about the kiss, it’s about the fact that I liked it. It’s about how as soon as our mouths fused, I never wanted that kiss to end. I never wanted to come up for air.
I betrayed Dylan, and I liked it.
What kind of person does that make me?
Worse than that, now I’m also feeling guilty for blowing Matty off and being cruel when he’s never been anything but kind.
It’s a complete contradiction; a total mindfuck.
As much as I try to focus on work and finish up my task list for the week, I can’t think straight.
My warring emotions get all twisted up, making me question what remains of the morals I was so firmly entrenched in the first time I set foot in this room.
Matty doesn’t check in on our shared projects throughout the day like usual.
He just dumps his completed files in the shared drive as he goes, his eyes never drifting up to peek at me over the top of his monitor.
As day turns to night, the silence persists, and I start chewing on the inside of my cheek, biting back the urge to say something just to fill the hollow chasm that’s formed between us.
When the inside of my cheek gets so raw that the metallic tinge of blood hits my tongue, I know I can’t take it any longer. Dylan’s gone, but Matty’s right here. I wronged them both, but there’s only one I can make things right with.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I blurt.
Matty’s brow furrows as he peeks up at me over his monitor. The glow of the screen reflects in his eyes, making them impossibly bluer as he tilts his head in question.
I swallow thickly, the words getting stuck in my throat.
Apologies aren’t really my forte.
My shoulders slump as I blow out a slow breath. “I shouldn’t have… kissed you. I was out of my head, I shouldn’t have led you on like that. I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again.”
Those blue eyes narrow as Matty studies me carefully, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he finally responds.
“I’m not sorry that it happened, Blair,” he murmurs in a low, silky tone, pushing a hand through his chestnut hair.
“I’m just sorry that you regret it so much you had to pretend like it didn’t. ”
The earnestness in his gaze is like a knife to the heart, my breath stalling in my lungs as I stare back at him unblinkingly. Even if I wanted to respond, it’s like I’ve suddenly lost the ability to form words. My pulse pounds erratically, heat crawling up my neck.
Matty pushes to his feet with a resigned sigh, rolling his neck on his shoulders and stretching his arms above his head.
The hem of his t-shirt rides up and I get a glimpse of his hard cut lower abs, biting my already raw cheek to ward off thoughts of what it’d be like to trace my fingertips along the dips and curves of muscle.
His shirt falls back into place as he drops his arms to his sides, pivoting to step around his desk and striding for the door.
“Hey, where are you going?” I call out after him, my voice strained.
He pauses in the doorway, swiveling to face me and hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “Figured I’d better grab us some dinner before the dining hall closes since it’s gonna be another late one,” he says, that easy smile of his not quite meeting his eyes. “Be right back.”