Page 79 of Roleplay at Randy's
My throat constricts. Cal has never used Matty’s name before. He doesn’t even use Miya’s. The amount of people he addresses with any kind of familiarity are limited to me and Mom. Even his revolving door of sitters have gone nameless.
Shit, I’m going to cry. I’m going to bawl like a big ole baby because Cal has decided Matty’s name is worth remembering. Because the man I care so fucking much about is important to my son.
I fall back on the closet door just listening to the living room chatter. Cal wants Matty to play Mario Kart with them. Miya is trying to regain his attention. Matty is laughing and promising he’ll join once he gets changed.
Thirty seconds later and Matty props himself against the door frame. His smile is so soft and indulgent, and he hasn’t bothered to undress in the slightest, except for the clip on bow tie that he’s snapped off and is twisting around with his fingers.
The cafe Matty picks up occasional shifts at is a themed butler cafe, and that means he’s dressed in a white button-up with a black suit jacket—unbuttoned and hanging open—anddark slacks. His hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, but there’s a few loose locks fallen to frame his face.
If Cal didn’t struggle with new environments we would have stopped by already, because Matty is the most informal person I know—he’s usually ripping the damn thing off before he’s fully in the door—and I’d like to see that side of him.
“Hey there, handsome,” I say around a burgeoning smile.
Matty doesn’t respond, just pushes off the door and stalks over to me with a level of confidence he doesn’t usually show. His hands fall to my waist, and his lips press soft, breathy kisses to my neck. I tip my head back against the door, wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing the other across his shoulders.
We both just hold each other there, soaking up the other’s touch. Matty’s lips slowly trail along my jaw until he can let out a soft breath into my ear. Shivers erupt across my skin, and he holds his answering smile to my cheek.
“Having you to come home to makes the hours standing on my feet and the co-worker cattiness slightly more bearable.”
“Maybe you should take Hannah up on the offer to work at Randy’s.”
That makes him pull away, but only enough to scowl and stick his tongue out at me. “That’s my best friend, you jerk.”
“Two people who care about you can’t brainstorm ways to make you stop being stubborn?”
His glare is far from serious, and I tug him flush against me to watch his cheeks darken.
“I have a better idea for what one of those people could be doing.”
“Oh?” I raise my brow, and he nods. “What should I be doing, Princess?”
Matty is the one who shivers now, snaking his hands under my T-shirt. “Getting me out of these clothes.”
Tempting. “Miya and Cal are right around the corner.” I lower my voice. “And I’m not fucking you in my son’s room.”
His shoulders shake with laughter. “I meant in our room. And I’m not asking for sex … I just want to be close to you. I want to feel your hands on my body.”
Even when he’s not trying to be sexy, he exudes it. Made even more endearing by the use ofourroom.
“And you think that won’t lead to …”
His lips twitch into a grin, and those hands slip into the back of my sweats. “You don’t work tonight. Maybe I want to tease you a little. See ifIcan makeyoubeg.”
I grasp his face in my hands and take his mouth in a deep, longing kiss that has him rising onto his tip toes to return it in spades.
If I had to choose one word to describe Matty it would be ‘passionate’. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing—dancing, kissing—he throws his whole body into it.
“Fine,” I mutter, tugging on his lip. “I’ll undo every fucking button on this shirt, cover your pretty, pale skin in little bites and bruises, and then I’m going to tell you, in extreme detail, exactly what I want to do to your cock to get your come on my face.”
Matty’s groan is unrivaled, even if he has to stifle it with my tongue.
Payback is a bitch, sweetheart.
The diner is quieterat night. On nights that I don’t work, none of the guys make it down to Randy’s except Rascal on occasion, but he’s not actually that rowdy of a person despitehis name. Usually the only people here this late are stragglers and the film kids.
Matty is set up on his side of the booth with his laptop, headphones, and is busy writing away to match some photos we took of getting him undressed earlier. He’s admitted to having a harder time focusing on this work at the house, so once Cal went to bed, I oh so nicely asked my sister if she’d keep an eye on him while I took Matty on a date.
I’m eating the world’s best sandwich while Matty munches down a plate of fries. Every once in a while, I’ll kick his foot under the table, and he’ll send me an amused smirk and hook our ankles together.
