Reparation

Page 5

  I make a pffft sound, which, in hindsight, really makes me sound drunk. “But honey… I want it. ”

  I’m going for seductive and sexy, but I think I may be coming off as drunkenly whorish. To my relief, Matt gives me a soft smile and pulls me into a hug. He kisses the top of my head, and I can’t help but sigh in contentment to be wrapped up in him.

  “You can have it,” he assures me. “Tomorrow…when you’re sober. So for now, go brush your teeth and takes some aspirin. ”

  I huff and puff but, honestly, the room is sort of spinning, so I totter off to do what he says. After brushing my teeth and popping two Tylenol, I quickly remove all of my clothes, leaving them lying on my bathroom floor. I probably am too drunk to have sex, and seriously, I don’t want to have sex with Matt and not remember it. That would be a freakin’ travesty.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Matt is lying in my bed. His chest is bare, and the covers are pulled up to his waist. I know him well enough to know that he’s completely na**d underneath. He loves to sleep in the buff.

  Although I’m drunk, I still have enough of my wits to enjoy the hotness of Matt Fucking Connover in my bed. He looks like perfection lying there.

  I crawl over him to reach my side, wrestling my way under the covers and collapse beside him in a fit of giggles. Scooting closer to him, I put my head on his chest while his arm comes around to hold me close. Reaching out to the lamp beside the bed, he turns it off and plunges us into total darkness.

  And as always happens when you’ve had too much alcohol and the inhibitions are completely obliterated, I lay it all out on the line.

  “Hey, Matt?” I whisper loudly. Really, really loudly.

  “Yeah. ”

  “I think I love you. ”

  I’m met with silence, but he squeezes me in response. I wait for something else, but he remains quiet.

  “I’ll probably regret saying that tomorrow, but I just had to say it. ”

  “You won’t remember it tomorrow, Mac. ”

  “Yes, I will,” I assure him with confidence. “I may not remember telling you, but I will remember I love you. That’s just not something I can forget. ”

  He leans over and glides his lips over my forehead. “You’re something else, Mac. ”

  His words are soft and genuine. He is not displeased by my proclamation. I may not get the words back in return, but I know that our relationship just got a little deeper.

  There have been many times over the last several weeks that I’ve been nervous in my relationship with Matt. The first time we met and I stripped in front of him, my first day of work when I realized he was my boss, and my drunken proclamation that I loved him.

  Yes, those were all moments of extreme apprehension.

  And yet, none of them compared to the way I feel right this moment before I knock on his apartment door.

  Matt has Gabe this weekend. It wasn’t his regularly scheduled visitation, but his ex-wife called him late last night and asked if he could take him. She apparently wanted to take an impromptu weekend trip with her new boy toy.

  Of course, Matt jumped all over it. If there is one thing I’ve come to know about Matt, he loves Gabe beyond all measure. His entire reason for living is that little boy.

  I was in no way disappointed when he told me last night—Friday night—that he had to go pick up Gabe and wouldn’t be able to see me. I had just been packing up my briefcase with some weekend work when he had come into my office to give me the bad news.

  Except… it wasn’t bad news. When he told me he needed to forsake me in favor of Gabe, I was genuinely happy for him and I made sure he knew that. He gave me a soft kiss goodbye and murmured, “I’m not sure I deserve you. ”

  Those words alone made it all worthwhile.

  But then Matt called me this morning—Saturday—and asked if I wanted to go with him and Gabe to Coney Island for the afternoon.

  I had asked, “Are you sure, Matt? You want me to meet Gabe?”

  He never even hesitated. “Absolutely. ”

  But now the nervousness abounds because, holy hell… what if Gabe hates me? If he hates me, there is no future for Matt and me… no matter how good the sex is.

  With moist palms, I knock on the door and, when it opens, I’m staring at a little miniature Matt. Dark brown hair and soft amber eyes. He smiles at me and, woe to his future girlfriends, he even has Matt’s dimples.

  “Hi,” Gabe says. “Dad says come on in. He’s just finishing up some work. ”

  “Thanks,” I tell him as I walk into the apartment, and he shuts the door behind me. “I’m McKayla. But you can call me Mac. All my best friends do. ”

  “Want to play Wii bowling with me?” he asks, not even acknowledging my name but instead, focusing on what’s really important to little boys.

  Before I can even answer, I’m completely enchanted when he takes my hand and leads me into the living room. “I’m really good. I beat Dad all the time, and I’ll probably beat you. ”

  Chattering away, Gabe sets up my avatar and hands me the Wii controller. After explaining the basics to me, we begin the game.

  Gabe clearly plays the Wii a lot because he gets strike after strike. He’s a little ham too, because every time he does, he does a little dance in front of the TV and yells, “In your face, Mac. ”

  We’ve only been playing for about twenty minutes when Matt comes out of his back office. I’m just getting ready to bowl when he says, “Poor form, Mac. I think you need to bend over a little more. ”

  I shoot a smirk over my shoulder at him and say, “Behave yourself. ”

  Chuckling, Matt sits down on the couch and watches his son totally beat my ass again. Gabe shrieks in glee, mocking my defeat at the hands of a child.

  Laughing, I hand the controller back over to him. “You are just too good, Gabe. I’ll never be able to beat you. ”

  Turning to his dad, he says, “Want to play?”

  Matt reaches out and tousles Gabe’s hair. The look on his face is one of overwhelming love for his child, and it shoots a ping of joy through my heart. “Maybe later, buddy. Let’s get ready to head out to Coney Island. Go get your shoes on. ”

  Gabe leaps up and yells, “Hooray,” before he takes off running to his room.

  Matt turns to me and crooks his finger. “Get over here and give me a proper hello. ”

  There’s no room for hesitation. I willingly walk up to Matt and let him pull me down onto his lap. His lips find mine in one fluid move, and he’s giving me a kiss that is possessive and deep.

  It’s also brief because that type of kissing usually leads to hands wandering and clothes shedding, and we, of course, cannot do that with Gabe here. He pulls back with a sigh. “So, what do you think of Gabe?”

  Matt’s words are full of pride.

  “He’s wonderful,” I assure him, and then I ponder a moment. “He’s you. ”

  The light in Matt’s eyes over my words shines bright. He knows his son is wonderful, and the fact I just said his son is just like him means that he is wonderful, too.

  Gabe comes tearing back into the room and I start to get off Matt’s lap, but he holds me tight. There’s apparently no personal space to a seven-year-old because he runs to the couch and jumps on both Matt and me. “I need you to tie my shoes, Dad. ”

  “Nope,” Matt says. “You know how to do it. ”

  “I forget how,” he pouts.

  “Well… I heard that in order to get into Coney Island, you have to prove you can tie your shoes. If you can’t do it, we can’t go. ”

  Gabe looks at his dad, trying to determine if what he is saying is true. He’s a smart kid though and not willing to risk rejection at Coney Island. He pushes away from Matt and me and starts tying his shoes.

  Little stinker.

  I look at Matt and giggle, and he just shrugs his shoulders. “All the negotiations skills I learned as a lawy
er have been invaluable raising a child. ”

  When Gabe finishes with his laces, he reaches over and grabs Matt’s hand. “Come on, Dad. Let’s go. ”

  Matt and I stand up from the couch and start walking toward the door. He grabs his wallet and car keys off a table in the foyer.

  “What do you want to do at Coney Island today?” Matt asks Gabe.

  Gabe starts rattling off his agenda at about a hundred miles an hour. “I want to ride the Cyclone, play skeeball, eat hot dogs and cotton candy, and then go to the beach, and then we can ride the Cyclone again. I’ll ride it once with you, and then Mac can ride it with me. ” He continues chattering, and I’m staring at him in wonder because it’s amazing to me that a child can talk for that length of time and not even pause to take a breath.

  Matt opens the door while my eyes are helplessly pinned to Gabe as he continues his speech. We start to follow Matt out but he comes to an abrupt stop, and I run into his back.

  Looking up and around Matt’s shoulder, I see a woman standing in the hallway. She was apparently getting ready to knock.

  She’s stunning. Pale blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and huge boobs. She’s every man’s wet dream.

  For a brief moment, I think this is some woman that Matt is seeing behind my back. But then I immediately take in the way that Matt’s shoulders stiffen and his jaw muscle starts popping. A sure sign that he is not a happy camper.

  Then it becomes clear who this is.

  Matt grits out, “Marissa… what are you doing here?”

  So this is Matt’s ex-wife. The one that screwed around on him. The one that left him with a bitter heart and made my work all that much harder.

  The look she gives Matt chills my bones. It’s calculating and vindictive. She pushes past Matt into the apartment, and I have to step back so she doesn’t run me over. “I’ve had a change in plans, so I’m here to get Gabe. ”

  Turning to me, she says, “And you are?”

  Well, this is awkward. Do I stick my hand out and introduce myself? Before I can even think what to say, Gabe grabs ahold of Marissa’s hand and says, “This is Mac, Mommy. She’s daddy’s friend. ”

  Marissa’s eyes roam up and down me briefly, and then they are dismissive. Turning to Matt, she says, “I don’t appreciate you bringing your flavor of the week around our son. ”

  Matt’s eyes flash in anger, but his voice is completely calm. “Marissa… I’m not doing this with you. Not in front of Gabe. We’re on our way out to Coney Island. I can bring him by your place later this evening. ”

  “Sorry. That just won’t work for me. I’m taking him now. ”

  Gabe pipes up. “I want to go to Coney Island with Daddy. ”

  Marissa hardly gives him a glance. “Not today, baby. We have other things to do. ”

  “Marissa… don’t make Gabe suffer because you want to get back at me. ”

  She doesn’t even bother to respond, but I see triumph in her eyes. Unbelievable. The bitch is punishing Gabe just to punish Matt.

  I hate her. I literally hate her.

  I am immensely uncomfortable witnessing this exchange, and I would love nothing more than to slink out of Matt’s apartment right now. I consider it, but then Matt says, “Mac… would you mind taking Gabe back to his room for a moment so I can have a few words with Marissa. ”

  “Sure,” I say softly. “Come on, Gabe. ”

  Gabe looks from me, to his mom, to his dad. Matt nods at Gabe and says, “Go on, buddy. I’ll work this out with Mom. ”

  “Okay,” Gabe says, and he grabs my hand to lead me back to his room.

  “Marissa,” I hear Matt plead softly. “Please don’t do this. He’s so excited about going to Coney Island. ”

  I can’t see Marissa’s expression, but I can almost envision it. She’s happy to have power and happy to have Matt beg her. I hear her response just before Gabe and I turn the corner to his room.