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He looked me up and down before he groaned again, stepping out of the car before helping me out and leading me inside to a waiting Rob.
Later, when I was tucked up in bed, my mind slipped back to the moment in the car. In fact, it fell headfirst into the vault of all the moments Matt and I had shared that I’d tried to lock away.
For such a long time, I thought I’d imagined the connection between us. I believed I’d pushed myself on him that night in his room, which was why he rejected me like he did. But recently I’d felt the undeniable sparks between us. Today, in the car, it made the air fizzle, and I knew I wasn’t imagining that.
I reached for my phone, typing out a message I wasn’t sure I’d even get a reply to. I knew I was treading on very thin ice.
Me: It’s not fair.
Matt: ???
Me: You get to see what I sleep in, but I never get to see what you sleep in.
My phone pinged with a picture message. I clicked on it and a long moan spilled from my lips.
Matt was laying on his bed, propped up against the headboard, pressed against a pile of white pillows. He was topless, showing off his chiseled chest and the deep outlines of his abs, a dark happy trail leading seductively beneath the waistband of his boxers. He’d cut off his head in the photo, using the whole space to showcase his body.
I wondered how often this man worked out and how he fitted it in, given that he seemed to spend all his time protecting me and my brothers.
Me: Seems like you might get a bit chilly.
Matt: I’m an oven.
Me: Good to know. I’m always too cold at night.
Shit, what am I doing.
Matt: Retro PJs not keeping you warm? Maybe I should have bought you some flannel ones!
Me: I’m too young for flannel, old man.
Matt: I’m 39. I’m not that old.
Me: To a 24 year old, 39 is ancient ;)
Matt: Good point.
I zoomed in on his photo so I could get a closer look at his body, reminding me what it felt like to touch those muscles and that’s when I saw it again.
Me: What’s the date for? On your chest.
Matt: It’s just a reminder.
Me: You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?
Matt: Nothing to say. The past is in the past. Talking about it doesn’t change it.
Me: We’re off tomorrow. You wanna come and have a movie day with me?
I watch as the three dots appear and disappear a few times before he replied.
Matt: Are you sure?
Me: Yes. I’d really like to spend some time with you.
I wanted to write that I’d missed him but decided against it. Asking him to spend the day with me was risky enough.I mean, what if I’m still reading into things that aren’t even there?
Matt: OK, but I’m picking the movie.
