Page 48 of Fall Into You
“What’s up with you?” I ask.
He looks at me like he’s never looked at me before. His eyes are soft but gleaming, his smile buoyant, his eyebrows raised. “I’m just happy,” he says simply with a shrug. He bends to kiss me on the lips, but I separate after a moment.
“You know, you can’t really do this once we get to my mom’s house. You need to stop.” I smile against his lips.
“Then I better make it count, don’t you think?”
His lips come crushing down on me with much more force than before, giving as much as he takes. He parts my lips with his tongue and sweeps it across mine, tasting me, claiming me. I hear myself whimper a little as he turns me and presses my back to the cash register. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registers that this kiss might not be appropriate for the general public, seeing as I can feel him half-hard against my stomach, and our breathing has grown ragged, but I couldn’t care less at the moment. I feel the heat pool in between my thighs, and it takes everything in me not to wrap a leg around his hip, my body aching for some friction. Matt pulls me tighter into him, and I dig my fingers into his hair with one hand, cupping his face with the other, feeling his soft beard. I tell myself to screw it, because he’s right—we probably won’t get a chance like this again for the entire weekend—and I just follow his lead.
Eventually, someone behind me clears their throat, and Matt releases his hold on me, coughing up an, “Excuse me,” to the sales clerk. He pulls out his wallet from his front pocket, surreptitiously adjusting himself, and pays for the flowers.
My head is spinning so much that I have to use the counter at the register to prop myself up. I’m so worked up now I feel like my skin is tingling all over. I chance a look at Matt, and he looks as affected as I am. His entire face, neck, and ears are bright red, and he exhales a deep, stabilizing breath. All I have to say isthank Godfor Matt’s coat because, based on what I felt pressed against me down there, we would not be able to walk out of this flower shop until he settled down.
Damn. That kiss, though.
WE SPENDthe rest of the car ride to my house in silence. I look out the window and play absentmindedly with my necklace while he keeps his hands firmly on ten and two. I spend it thinking about how incredible that kiss was, and Matt just keeps quiet, expression solemn. He doesn’t sing anymore; he doesn’t joke anymore—I think the nerves have finally hit him.
“You okay?” I ask at a red light a few blocks away from the house.
“Just…kind of nervous. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my hands off you after that,” he says quietly. I laugh, but his expression doesn’t change.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. He jumps slightly at my contact.
“Please,” he groans, accelerating once the light turns green. “Don’t touch me. I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. I might actually need to use the extra pants and underwear I packed.”
I laugh again, but he seems to be completely serious.
Matt pulls over just before turning onto my street. He turns off the engine, and we don’t say anything for a few minutes. “I need to say something before we go in there.”
My stomach churns, and ice-cold water shoots through my veins.NowI’m really nervous.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I say. I think I know what he wants to tell me, but I don’t want to hear it now. Not like this. Not when he’s upset, and I can’t do much about it.
“No, you don’t understand,” he says. “I want you to know before we go in there that—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand, my heart racing. “It can’t be like this. It can’t be in reaction to you being scared about what might happen this weekend.”
My suspicions are confirmed as I see his pupils dilate, his eyes widen, and a soft smile appears on his face.
“I told you I was committed to this. I’m not freaking out or leaving you. I’m in this,” I say firmly.
“Really?” His smile is almost blinding. “Well, then why can’t we tell him now? It’ll be fine.” He reaches for my hands and kisses them. “It’ll be so much easier to just tell him tonight.”
He’s losing his mind, but I don’t think he would appreciate me telling him. Instead, I try to reason with him, to explain why right now is the absolute worst possible time to announce that we’re together—that we have been for quite some time.
“Not now.” I shake my head. “Not over the holiday.” Matt lets go of my hands and sits back in his seat, sighing in exasperation, running both his hands through his hair.
His eyes are closed when he says, “I’m so fucking tired of lying, Liza.” His voice is cold, angry—a tone I’ve never heard him use before. Chills run up and down my spine, and for a hot second, I think he might give me an ultimatum again. But he wouldn’t really do that to me, would he? Not on Thanksgiving, right? The holidays are already dramatic enough. There’s no reason to add more drama to it. “I have to do it every fucking time I’m with him. In his home. Under his roof. When we’re playing with his kids. I have to tell him that I’m not interested in seeing anyone when he suggests setting me up with someone. I have to lie to him when I’m at your place and he asks where I am.” He sighs.
“He’s myfriend. My best friend. And I feel like an asshole. I feel like a really bad fucking guy. And I keep telling myself that that’s not who I am—at least not anymore—but actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I care about you a lot, Liza—you know that—but I can’t do this for much longer. You need to promise me that it’ll be soon.”
“Matt…” I reach for his hand, but he leaves it on his thigh where it was resting. “Hey, look at me.” He turns his head, but his expression is impassive. It makes me anxious to see him like this, especially when I know that it is completely my fault. “Next week. I promise. It’ll give him enough time to cool down and for the dust to settle for everything to be absolutely fine by Christmas, okay? I just want us to be careful and not ruin the holiday season.”
He pulls his hand from mine and rests them both back on the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath and then another. I examine his profile and take in his worried brow and frown, stare at the newly formed wrinkles on his forehead and his now-messy hair. His back is tense, and his muscles are flexed, veins popping on his neck. He looked so put together before we left the city. Now he looks like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown, or scream, or I don’t even know… I can’t stand to look at him like this, so I unbuckle my seatbelt and crawl onto my knees so I can reach out and kiss his cheek, lightly cupping his face.
“Hey, stop overthinking this. You’re important to me, and nothing is going to change that,” I whisper against his skin before releasing his face.
“And you’re everything to me,” Matt says with a sigh. He smiles half-heartedly at me, eyes sad. My heart aches, and I’m trying to think of ways to make him feel better, to assure him that I’m here, that I’m not going anywhere, that all the lying is temporary, but I can’t think of anything else to say or do at the moment that I feel would be right. And now we have to spend the entire long weekend with my family, feeling the way we feel, not being able to do anything to fix it.
