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1
Ivy
My very first memories involved Matthew, the way he’d held my hand as he took me to the park. The way he’d helped me on the swing and then pushed me. He’d watched me when my mother and father had been at work, playing board games with me, sneaking hot fudge sundaes before dinner.
He’d been a constant presence in my life always. I trusted him more than anyone else, knew that he’d never let anyone hurt me.
I remember looking up at him, the sun behind him, the glare intense, and thinking he was a superhero.
My superhero.
And when a little boy had been picking on me, Matthew had been there to tell him that treating girls with respect and kindness was the only way to grow up being a good man.
He was Matthew, my Matthew, my best friend, my father’s step-brother.
My step-uncle.
He was family, the one person that I knew would never let me down. And after my mother died in a wrong place, wrong time kind of thing, I never thought the world would be right again. I was young, so young that as time went on, I started to feel like I would be okay, that things would get better.
So I’d focused on school, knowing that she’d want me to focus on what made me happy.
And I don’t know when it had changed, when my feelings for Matthew had started changing from adoration and admiration to … desire.
It was wrong, a sin, right? He was family, and although not a blood relative, I’d only ever known him as Uncle Matthew.
I was eighteen and finishing up my senior year of high school. I had plans, ambitions.
I had a future.
And I should have been happy, excited about it all, but over the summer something had changed within me. Something had grown, like a branch of a tree that was twisted and barren, reaching for the sun because that’s all it knew.
And Matthew was my sun.
He was all I knew.
I’d felt something shift and turn in me, clawing to get out.
Matthew was outside in the garden, his short dark hair slightly damp at his temples from perspiration. He was installing a new walkway, not something we especially needed, but Matthew liked to stay busy. He liked to work with his hands.
The way his biceps flexed as he worked on the cobblestone had my heart racing. The sight of his tattoo-covered flesh had my body reacting in ways I’d only ever felt with him.
His white T-shirt had smudges of dirt on it, wet from sweat, the sun beating down on him.
My sun.
I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, my ultimate death awaiting.
He lifted his arm and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his bicep flexing. He was muscular. Having worked in construction most of his adult life had made his body powerful, like a tank.
My hands started aching and I looked down to see my fingers twisted together in my shirt almost violently. I loosened my hold, breathing out slowly, and lifted my head to look back out the window, only to see Matthew looking at me. The air left me viciously and I should have glanced away, but I found myself transfixed at the sight of him, at how he drew out this reaction from me.
Time had no meaning in that moment, no physical hold on me.
I felt a tightness claim me instantly when I saw Mara, our very attractive, very available next-door neighbor walk up to Matthew with a bottle of water in her hand and a come-fuck-me smile plastered on her face.
“Earth to Ivy.”
I blinked a few times and pulled my focus away from the window. My cheeks felt hot, the very real possibility that Georgia had seen me watching Matthew embarrassing me.
“I’m here.” I cleared my throat and walked back to the table, sitting down across from her. We were in the last month of high school, our senior year, and I couldn’t focus.
I hadn’t been able to for months now, ever since I realized what I’d been feeling for Matthew was most definitely not appropriate.
I brought my pencil up to my mouth and started chewing on the end as I zoned out. I could hear Georgia talking, but I wasn’t focused on what she said.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, but I soon heard the side door open and my heart jumped into my throat. I knew it was Matthew coming inside.
Acting like I had my shit together in that moment was easier said than done, especially seeing as I felt flushed and aroused.
I straightened and looked out toward the hallway, watching as Matthew came into view. He pulled a rag out of his pocket and started wiping the sweat from his forehead, then dragged it down and over the back of his neck.
