Maybe Matt's Miracle

  “What’s it like being sober?” I blurt out. Yeah, I want to hurt her, but she deserves it.

  “Hard,” she says. She takes a drag of her cigarette and stubs it out. “Really hard. Everything hurts. Every memory. Every thought in my head hurts because it’s all full of regret. I have regrets, Sky. I regret everything. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. I know you don’t trust me, and honestly, I don’t trust myself. So, if you want to walk out of here and not look back, I understand.”

  She sits quietly, starting into the far recesses of the garden.

  “I’d like to meet your kids,” she says.

  I start to protest.

  She holds up a hand. “Not right now. When I’ve earned the right. I’d like to meet them and get to know them. It’s sad what happened to their mother. She was a good woman.”

  “How would you know?” I toss out.

  “I met her a few times. We would get together for lunch. One time, I got drunk over a martini or ten at our lunch, and she took me home in her car. I didn’t use my driver because I didn’t want him to tell your father where I was going.”

  “What happened?” I whisper.

  “She was good and kind. She took me home and held my head over the toilet. Then she cleaned me up. She tucked me into bed, and she apologized for her mother ruining my marriage.” She chuckles. “But what she didn’t know was that her mother didn’t ruin anything. I did. I ruined all of it. I refused to let love in. And I refused to let it because I wasn’t worthy.”

  I can’t even speak.

  “When I found out she was dying, I went to her. She talked to me about the kids and her fears. She cried. I cried. I went home and told your father what happened, and I told him that he should ask you to help. That you had more love inside you than anyone I’d ever met, and that those kids would be lucky to have you. Then I went and got stinking drunk and almost killed myself on pain pills. Because giving you those kids meant I had to give up my hatred of them. I couldn’t stomach that. Your father helped me through the night. Then I did it again after the funeral. Your dad had to call 9-1-1.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” My foot starts to twitch again.

  “Would you have cared?” She stares into my face. “You might have felt a moment of displeasure, but you would have gotten over it quickly. I wasn’t worth more than a passing thought to anyone, and I’d set it up that way myself.” She shrugs.

  I sniff back my indignation. “I would have cared.”

  She snorts again. “I would have been your mother that died. The woman who gave birth to you and then didn’t do anything else for you your whole life.”

  Damn, that hurts to think about. But she’s right.

  “Your dad says you have a boyfriend,” she says and smiles.

  I nod. “Matthew,” I tell her. She doesn’t deserve the details.

  “The one with the tattoos,” she says. “He’s very handsome.”

  “He’s good and kind,” I correct. Then I smile, because thinking of him brings it out in me. “And handsome.”

  “Do you love him?” she asks.

  I nod my head. “As much as I know about love,” I say. “If I have to say yes or no, I say yes. But I’m not completely sure what that means.”

  “I’m sorry we made you doubt yourself so much. You’re worth so much more.” She swipes a hand beneath her nose. “We were terrible examples.”

  “I don’t trust him with my heart,” I admit. “I’m terrified to love him.”

  “Afraid he’ll turn on you?” she asks. “Or that he’ll walk away?”

  “Or that he’ll love me till the end of time,” I say. That’s just as scary because I don’t know what to do with it.

  “You should look into some Al-Anon meetings,” she says. “They’re for families of addicts.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  She taps my leg. “For you,” she says. “Not for me.”

  She lights a new cigarette. I raise my brow at her.

  She laughs. “I’ve never felt quite so exposed. It’s a new and scary feeling. So, forgive me my vices. I’ll quit when I get through this.”

  “Okay.” I understand. I think.

  “Don’t be afraid to let him love you, Sky,” she says quietly. “I was afraid to let your dad love me. I didn’t think I deserved it after things I did when I was drinking. So I shut him out. Let Matthew in. Let him love you. Take it all in and let it seep into your bones. Don’t let it go. If he breaks your heart, at least you’ll know you still have one. Don’t die inside like me. Let love in. Let it surround you and keep you on your feet when you can’t go anymore. Let. Love. In.”

  The doors to the patio open, and a nurse comes out. “It’s time for group,” she says, motioning toward my mother.

  My mom gets up and turns to me. She hugs me tightly, holding me close. I don’t remember her ever doing that before, and I stiffen in her arms. “Let. Love. In,” she whispers close to my ear.

  She leaves, and I fall back into my chair. My legs won’t support me, and I can’t leave yet. I’m shaking too badly. It’s like everything I never wanted has now fallen into my lap, and I don’t know what to do with it.

  When I finally can, I get up and go to the only place where I know I can find peace. I go to Matt.

  Matt

  Paul is in a shitty mood. I don’t know what’s up with him, but he’s been particularly irritating today. Friday’s a little bit off, too, but I don’t what’s up with her any more than I know what’s up with Paul. Paul bangs his tattoo gun on a nearby table, hitting it hard enough that even Logan looks up.

  WTF? Logan signs.

  I shrug my shoulders. Logan is working on some particularly intricate designs for the catalogs we have pinned to the walls. When he’s not at school, Madison Avenue, or doing tats, he occupies himself by making designs for people to choose from. Some people come in with no idea what they want, and they look through the catalogs until they find something. Other people come in with designs in their heads, and then we have to translate them into real life. I’m glad Friday can draw, too. She’s almost as good as Logan. I’ve seen some of her art, and it’s breathtaking.

  “Dude, you trying to bust it or fix it?” Pete asks, his brow raising as he stares at Paul. We all have our own equipment, so I don’t particularly care if Paul breaks his when he has a tantrum. But I’d rather avoid it if we can talk him through it.

  “The damn thing isn’t working right,” Paul mumbles.

  Logan walks over to him and holds out his hand. Paul glares at it and then he rolls his eyes and hands over the tattoo gun. Logan does something to it really quickly and gives it back. He doesn’t grin or gloat. He just goes back to the light table, a special table he uses for tracing, and continues his drawing.

  “I fucking hate you,” Paul mumbles to his back.

  I grin. I can’t help it.

  “What?” Logan asks, looking from me to Paul and back.

  “He said thank you,” I say.

  “I’m sure he did.” He glares back at Paul. “What the fuck crawled up your ass?” he asks.

  The rest of us go quiet. No one usually messes with Paul when he’s in a snit. We step around him and keep on moving until he gets over it.

  “He’s pissy because he did something stupid last night,” Friday tosses out. She doesn’t look at him. She just talks about him. She has bigger balls than any of us do, I’ll say that for her. “Then he wanted to take it back, but it was too late. So now he feels guilty.” She blows out a breath and starts to pack up her backpack. She shoves her books into the bag one by one, using a lot more force than is necessary.

  “Where are you going?” Paul barks. Storm clouds are brewing in his eyes.

  “I don’t know,” she barks back. “Maybe I have a date. Maybe I want to get laid. Maybe I just want to have an earth-shaking orgasm and not have to feel guilty about it ten minutes later.”

  “Oh fuck,” Pete says under his breath. I shoot him a look, a
nd he covers his mouth.

  “Wait a minute and I’ll walk you home,” Paul says as he puts his things away.

  “No, thank you,” Friday chirps. She raises her arm and waves at us from behind her head, her fingers wiggling as she calls, “Good afternoon, all.”

  “You’ll be back tomorrow, right?” Paul yells to her. He’s looking a little unsettled, even more than a minute ago.

  She doesn’t say anything. She just slams the door hard enough that my feet shake under me. Shit. That was awkward.

  Paul sinks heavily into a chair and drops his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He looks up, and he looks so tired. I want to go to him and make him feel better, but I’m afraid I can’t.

  “You should go after her,” Logan says.

  Paul looks up. “That’s the last thing she needs,” he says quietly. He shakes his head. “Never mind.” He stands up. “Get back to work,” he says to all of us.

  Pete opens his mouth to give him a hard time, but I cough into my fist, and he looks at me and throws up his hands. Pete’s gaze follows Friday, like he wants to go make sure she’s all right. I see him pull his phone from his pocket, and he texts really quickly. He’s probably asking Reagan to check on her. He looks up at me and nods. She’ll ensure Friday is all right.

  There’s this crazy tension between Friday and Paul that no one understands, not even them. He can be such a man whore, particularly now that Kelly is seeing someone. He sleeps with just about everyone, but for the past couple of weeks or so, he hasn’t been quite as flirty with girls in the shop, and he hasn’t even been on many dates.

  The bell over the door tinkles, and I look up. My heart stutters when the woman of my dreams walks through the door. Sky is outlined by the sun as she stands in front of the window, and I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. She shifts from foot to foot and crosses her arms beneath her breasts.

  “Hi,” she says quietly.

  She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and she looks so damn pretty that I can’t keep from grabbing her. I walk across the room and draw her against me. Her arms stay stiffly at her sides, so I lift them and put them around my neck. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I say, and I mean every word. Honestly, she just made my belly flip. I bend my head and kiss her quickly, but her lips follow mine when I start to pull back. Her mouth is soft and warm and wet, and the kiss shoots straight to my center.

  My brothers start their catcalling, and I finally have to lift my head. I flip them the bird, and she steps back from me, her cheeks all rosy and pretty. She waves at my brothers. It’s a jerky, quick move, and then she buries her face in my shirt. She’s so fucking beautiful that she steals my breath, and her blushing is absolutely adorable.

  Sky grabs my shirt in her fists and jerks my gaze to hers. “Have you had lunch yet?” she asks.

  I just ate, but I wouldn’t pass up a chance to sit beside her for an hour for anything. I shake my head. “Do you want to go out?”

  She bites her lower lip between her teeth. “Want to go to my place?”

  She avoids my gaze, and my heart does that fluttery thing again. “For lunch?”

  She nods, but her cheeks go even rosier, and I have no idea what she’s thinking. I hope she’s thinking what I’m thinking, which revolves all around getting her naked and getting me inside her.

  “What’s for lunch?” I ask as I shrug into my coat. I’m wondering what her plan is, or if we need to stop to pick up sandwiches or something.

  She smiles. “Me,” she says quietly. Then her smile turns into a grin, and she starts for the front door. I follow like a puppy at her heels because I can’t do anything else.

  Skylar

  Matt trips over his own foot as we step out into the street, and I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He’s so damn adorable that anyone who didn’t fall in love with him would be an idiot. And I am not an idiot. At least not today. Today, I’m Matt’s girlfriend. I am not the daughter of a drug-and-alcohol-abusing mother and a cheating father. I’m done with that for today. I’m just Matt’s girl. And Matt just tripped over his own foot to get close to me.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” he asks. He draws me into his arms and nuzzles my neck. Then he pushes back and looks down at me. “Why aren’t you at work?” he asks as he threads his fingers through mine. The heat of his palm seeps into my skin and warms me unlike any other touch I have ever experienced. He looks into my eyes. “Everything okay?”

  I roll my neck from side to side. I didn’t realize how much my shoulders hurt I was until I saw Matt. I wish I were one of those people who could crack their neck; it always seems like it would help so much. Matt’s hands come up to knead my shoulders from the front.

  “You’re so tense,” he says, his eyebrows drawing together. “What’s up?” He has only known me for a couple of weeks, and he already can sense my moods. I’m not one hundred percent sure I like it.

  “I went to see my mom today,” I admit.

  His eyes narrow as he walks around my car and opens my door for me. I slide inside and he runs around the front of the car to get in the passenger seat. “How did it go?” he asks after he buckles up. He turns the radio down because I left the volume a little loud when I parked.

  I sigh. “Better than I expected. But now I don’t know what to do with it all, you know?”

  He nods. But the words that come out of his mouth are, “No, not really.” He waits a minute and then says, “I mean, my family has its share of problems. But there’s no one who abandoned me and then I had to reach out to in rehab, no.”

  “She didn’t abandon me,” I start.

  “They both did, Sky,” he says softly. “Just as surely as our dad did, your parents did. Just because they have a bunch of money and paid people to do what they should have been doing all along doesn’t make them any better.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” I ask. My head is starting to hurt, and I stretch my neck again.

  Matt reaches over and starts to knead my shoulder. “I’ll take care of that for you when we get to the apartment,” he says quietly.

  “What?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.

  “That headache,” he says.

  How did he know I have a headache? “It’s nothing,” I say.

  We pull up at my apartment and park on the side of the street. Matt takes my hand as we walk inside. When the elevator doors close, he pulls me against his front, and I can feel the length of him pressed against my bottom. Goodness. He’s ready for whatever we’re about to do.

  We walk through the door, and I throw my keys onto the kitchen table.

  “Why did you bring me here?” he asks. His words whip around the room like lightning, striking me harder than he probably intended.

  “I…” I can’t verbalize it. I can’t tell him.

  “You what?” he asks. He walks slowly toward me and cups the side of my neck with his hand. He’s gentle and tender, and yet I can feel how much he wants me. I might even be able to feel how much he loves me, even though I’m not sure what that is yet. Is it real? I don’t know enough about it to be sure. “Why did you bring me here?”

  I dip my head and push my forehead against his chest. I breathe in the scent of him and hold it deep inside me. I don’t want to exhale and let it go. It’s woodsy and manly and clean, and it’s all Matt. “I feel like I have been emotionally assaulted, Matt,” I say quietly. “And when it was all over, I needed someone who could make me feel safe.” I look up at him, and his blue eyes don’t even blink. “I needed someone who cares for me.”

  Matt scoops me up in his arms, one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back. I squeal in surprise. He laughs and carries me into my bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind us. “How long do we have before you have to pick up the girls?” he asks. He sits down on the side of my bed and takes off his boots. He’s moving quickly, and he grins.

  I kick my sneakers off and pull my shirt over my h
ead. “Hours,” I say. I unbutton my jeans and push them down my legs, stepping out and kicking them to the side. Matt licks his lips. He tugs my arm when I reach behind my back to unfasten my bra. “Slow down just a little,” he says. “I’m not going to rush the first time I get to love you.”

  My heart trips a beat. “Okay,” I say quietly. I sit down on the side of the bed and cross my arms over my chest. I’m feeling a little self-conscious, particularly since I’m not wearing sexy undies. I’m wearing everyday panties and my ratty, old comfy bra.

  Matt taps my chin with a crooked finger, and I look up at him. “Stop thinking,” he says. He stands up and unfastens his belt, then pulls the belt from the buckle. He shoves his jeans down over his hips, and I can’t jerk my eyes away when I see that his boxers are tented by his… God, he’s huge. “Stop thinking about that, too,” he says over a laugh.

  “Lie down on your stomach,” he says. He walks into my bathroom and comes back with a bottle of lotion. I crawl across the bed and lay my head on my pillow, my arms crossed beneath it. I watch him as he walks slowly toward me. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says quietly. He sits down beside me and squirts some lotion into his hands, then rubs them together briskly to warm it up.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Taking care of you,” he says. His hip touches mine, and then his warm, slick hands land on my naked shoulders. He applies pressure with his slippery fingertips, and it feels so damn good that a moan leaves my throat. “This okay?” he asks.

  I moan again and nod my head, jamming my face into my pillow. “Please don’t stop.” I say.

  He chuckles. “I won’t.” He does lift his hands for a minute, though, so that he can climb up to straddle my bottom. He doesn’t put any of his weight on me, but I can feel him, heavy and hard on top of my lower back. “Can I undo this?” he asks quietly, his voice suddenly rough and abraded when he pulls gently on my bra fastening.

  “Yes,” I squeak into my pillow.