Emma
EIGHTEEN
The flight back to L.A. is extremely different from the one out here. We’re not bickering or snapping at each other. There’s still teasing, of course, but it’s loaded with something… something I don’t have a name for yet.
We woke up today a tangle of limbs. Matt’s arm under me, holding me close. Mine resting on his chest like it already had a designated resting spot. When I opened my eyes, he was already looking at me, rubbing lazy circles on my shoulder.
It was strange because it wasn’t strange.
There was no uncomfortable silence, no awkward shuffling to avoid touching. It was nice. We lay there, the rhythm of our breathing filling the space until his alarm went off.
He tidied the room, packed the dress in my bag, and left me to change in peace.
By the time I made it out, he was making breakfast for everyone. If I didn’t believe before that Matt could cook, after the fluffiest homemade pancakes I’ve ever had, I certainly do now.
Only after saying our goodbyes to Eleanor and realizing he had no intention of bringing up the kiss, I pulled him to a stop before getting in the car.
“I’m going crazy,” I said, exasperated. “I did kiss you last night, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” he answered, a teasing grin on his face.
“Okay… Is it going to be awkward between us?” I asked, slightly uncomfortable. “Was it that bad that you want to forget about it altogether?”
He scoffed, dropping our bags and grabbing my face with both hands.
“I’m not talking about it because the second I do, all I’ll be able to do today is replay those three seconds your lips were on mine.” His eyes dropped, thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “No, it’s not awkward for me. I’m just getting started.”
Our faces were close enough for action. For sure, I thought he was going to kiss me.
I was ready.
But he leaned down, changed trajectories at the last moment possible, and kissed my cheek instead. My cheek!
So now I’m sitting in front of him, waiting for the plane to take off, frustrated. I’m not angry, I’ve been tempted. He’s dangled it, and now I want it. Another unlocked mystery in my head needing to be solved. How well does Matt Hunt kiss?
“All you have to do is ask for it,” he says, while staring at his phone.
“Right, because that’s the ultimate aphrodisiac. To ask.”
Matt doesn’t even try to hide his amusement, laughing for everyone to hear. That should annoy me, but seeing him so carefree is softening up my heart in ways I’m scared to even address right now.
“There’s a bed in the back,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Next time I want to join the mile high club, I’ll be sure to ask if I can borrow your private jet,” I deadpan.
“Ouch,” he says, with feigned offense.
Lauren, flying with us again today after getting stranded yesterday, closes the door. She walks over with a smile practiced to perfection.
“We’re going to be taking off soon. Would you like anything before we do?”
“I’m okay. Thank you,” I tell her. I’m still stuffed from inhaling four pancakes earlier.
“Actually, could I have a pack of Chocolate Delight Cookies?” Matt asks.
I love those cookies. I never say no to Chocolate Delight. Ever.
I turn to him, and he’s already looking at me, a knowing smirk taking over his face. Lauren’s already on the move and I’m too embarrassed to ask for my own.
“Since when do they have those on a plane?”
“Since I special ordered them,” he replies, clearly pleased with himself.
I wish that didn’t do anything to me. It does. Enough to bring right back the butterflies that woke up in my stomach when I kissed him.
She comes back with a family pack. Matt opens it and grabs one for himself, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes the first bite. He groans, teasing me to no end.
“Aren’t they your favorite?”
I give him a small nod and pucker up. Matt laughs and hands me one.
This feels like more than just a snack. I’m being seen, paid attention to. As I munch on the cookie, I realize how ridiculous it is. He’s been noticing all these things about me for years and I had no clue. But now, I feel at ease with Matt in a way that keeps lowering my guard, piece by piece.
It’s unfamiliar, still a little dangerous, how I no longer have that need to brace myself around him. Maybe, just maybe, he can actually be the one doing the protecting. But thinking like this has only gotten me hurt in the past.
The plane takes off, and as soon as we’re airborne, Matt leans his phone against his water bottle. Out of his bag, he pulls a pair of old school earphones with the dongle already attached to them.
Friends starts playing over the speakers before he plugs them in.
My all-time comfort show. I’d bet my life that he knows it as well.
Without looking up, he taps the seat next to him. I try to act cool, but I almost hurl myself over the table. I curl up beside him and take the earphone he’s offering.
“Did you also pack these on purpose? You know, forced proximity and all?” I tease.
“It worked, didn’t it?” He snorts. “Truth is I’ve gone through three different wireless pairs, and I can’t seem to keep them.”
“Alright, Matthew,” I joke. “We’ll go with that.”
We’re in the middle of Rachel and Ross’s break when I fall asleep, my head against his arm. It’s turning into my safe place faster than I can reign it in.
Mills… Em… Emma…
My eyes open and all I can see is thighs. Big, strong thighs. Matt’s caressing my hair over and over, whispering my name. For a second, I don’t move. I’m warm and comfortable, and I don’t quite want to leave yet.
Then it clicks.
I’m lying on Matt. Like… fully lying on Matt.
My head tilts up, adjusting to the cabin lights and yep—there’s no doubt here. I’m sprawled across him, my head in his lap like it’s completely normal for me.
He must think I’m a weirdo.
His hand is cupping my cheek, thumb moving in a slow back-and-forth motion almost as if he’d been doing it long enough not to think about it.
“Emma,” he whispers again.
My name sounds different in his voice right now. Soft and tender.
I look up at him, his eyes already locked on mine. That thing is back in his expression. The one I can’t quite decipher. The one that makes my stomach do that annoying, fluttery routine I refuse to acknowledge.
Neither of us say anything.
Suddenly, as if I’ve had a cold bucket of water dumped over me, I become aware very quickly of everything. The warmth of his skin against mine. The faint, clean scent of his cologne—yeah, same one that gets me all turned around.
And then, because my brain hates me, my attention drops to his mouth.
It was a chaste kiss. So short it left me wondering what it would be like to actually kiss him. Would it be a fight for dominance like everything else is with us? Or would he take control, leaving me speechless for once?
His lips look—
No.
Can’t finish that thought.
How bad would it be if I leaned up and kissed him again? Just to check. For science. Matt would be so mad I keep doing this unannounced.
“Car’s waiting for us,” he says, cutting straight through my reckless thoughts.
Right. Reality knocks. We’re wheels down in L.A. with lives we have to get back to.
I push myself up a little too quickly, smoothing my hand over my hair and face as if that’s going to erase the memory of his touch.
“Great,” I mumble, struggling to form sentences that don’t involve the words lips or kiss. “Love cars. Peak transportation, honestly.”
He swallows a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. We grab our bags—well, Matt does—and get in the blacked-out SUV. He’s being polite, chatting up the driver. A complete opposite, I’m trying my hardest not to stare at the small patch of skin that appears when he opens the trunk.
Once we’re settled inside, he gives the driver my address. The partition closes, sealing us into our own little bubble with a soft click. It’s too small a place, too much Matt. I immediately regret every life choice that’s led me here, unable to get him out of my head.
“Thanks for coming,” he says after a moment.
I glance over at him, leaning back in his seat, not a single overthinking line on his forehead, like he didn’t spend the entire flight casually holding my face.
“You’re making it sound like I had a choice.”
His mouth quirks.
“You’re Emma Miller. You always have a choice.” He pauses, eyes flicking to me. “You just like pretending you don’t.”
“Shhhh,” I say, holding up both hands. “Don’t ruin my brand.”
Matt laughs. The kind that starts deep in his belly that he can’t hold back. Something in my chest reacts to the sound, and my heart does that stupid, warm-expanding thing again.
“Still,” he says, softer now. “Thank you. I mean it.”
My instinct kicks in and I’m about to deflect. Make a joke, change the subject, fake a phone call… But I don’t. I look at him and smile, properly this time.
“You’re welcome,” I say, honestly. “I had a good time.”
The car slows, pulling up outside my building sooner than I’m ready for. I’m getting addicted to this version of Matt, and I don’t want to let him go. But timing’s never been on my side.
He follows me to my front door. I’m drafting what I’m going to say to Julia and Olivia on our catch-up video call because there’s not a single scenario in which they don’t freak out.
“Hey, Mills,” Matt calls. “Can I ask you something?”
I pause, hand still on the handle, and turn back.
“Depends,” I say cautiously. “Is it going to annoy me?”
“Probably.”
I nod. “My favorite. Go ahead.”
He hesitates long enough to make me nervous.
“Tom,” he starts, “are you—”
“Just friends,” I cut in immediately.
It comes out faster than I intend, like I’ve been waiting to say it. Which, yeah, maybe it’s been eating at me for a few days.
Matt studies me for a second. Either he doesn’t believe me, or he’s once again decided not to go through with what he was going to say. I can practically see in his eyes the moment he almost backs out.
But then, he doesn’t.
“Can I take you out to dinner?”
I blink. “What?”
“Dinner,” he tries again, a bit more firmly now. “Nothing sketchy. No hiding. Matt and Emma. For real.”
Okay. That I did not expect.
Because—what?