Page 64 of Pucking Matt
Matt falls into step beside me as I make my way to my car.
I mutter, not meeting his eyes. “Don't let me ruin your night.”
“I'm coming with you,” he says firmly, and I don't have the energy to argue.
We reach my car, and I slide into the driver's seat while Matt takes shotgun. I don't start the engine, instead, I just sit there, letting the cool night air wash over me and try to calm my racing heart.
My mind's going a million miles an hour, replaying the scene and imagining all the ways I could've handled it differently. But the truth is, I'm not that girl anymore. The one who lashed out at her brother or tackled Matthew Pearson down the stairs. I'm not some wild child looking for a fight.
“I'm sorry about her,” Matt says softly, his gaze fixed on the car in front of us.
I keep my eyes on the steering wheel, afraid of what I might see if I look at him.
He sighs, “She can’t take no for an answer.”
I bite my lip, curiosity getting the better of me. “So, you two hook up?”
He nods, looking uncomfortable. “A while ago, yeah.”
I nod, trying to process this new information.
“I'm sorry,” he says again, his voice barely above a whisper.
A tear escapes, sliding down my cheek as Matt's hand gently touches my thigh. I hadn't even realized I was crying. The memory of being shoved to the ground has my hands trembling. Matt reaches for them, and I let him.
It hits me then – how much I hate feeling powerless, feeling vulnerable. My brother's abuse, always over the most trivial things, comes flooding back. I used to think it made me tough, but now I see it left me hurt. And hurt people, well, they tend to hurt people. I owe Matt the full truth about the day I attacked him. I’ve shoved the truth down deep where I don’t have to face it, but it’s fucked up what I did to Matt.
“Matt,” I whisper. “The day before I attacked you, my brother beat me up.”
“What?” he says, turning to face me fully.
I take a shaky breath. “Yeah. We grew up with parents who didn't really care what we did. My brother, he'd been beating me since we were kids. Never got in trouble for it. He'd actually stopped for a while, but then,” I swallow hard. “I told my mom about his drug dealing. He found out and he kicked my ass. We were older, so it was different. I had to take his hits. Nobody was home to stop him.” Now I’m crying. “It hurt. He fucked me up. And I was so mad… And then you said what you said, and I had so much anger. So much rage. I couldn’t…”
I let the tears fall down my face. Matt's grip on my hands tightens, a silent show of support.
I look into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have hit you, Matt. I shouldn’t have tackled you down the stairs. I’m lucky I didn’t seriously injure you because I don’t know if I could live with myself if I hurt you. As much as we play stupid pranks on each other, I really am sorry for what I did. And I kept hating you because I was embarrassed.” I glance down at our hands. “Really fucking embarrassed about myself and my life. I can’t believe how far I let this go. I swear it’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.”
Matt's fingers intertwine with mine, his touch grounding me. We sit in silence as I try to stop my tears. He waits as I release his hold to wipe my tears.
I continue, “So, that's the whole story. It doesn't excuse any of my actions, and I’m still very ashamed. You don’t deserve this. I thought if I was a bitch, you would leave me alone, and all that pain and anger would end.”
“Hey,” he says softly, his free hand cupping my cheek. “It's okay, Amber.”
I shake my head at him, unable to believe his forgiveness. “It’s not okay,” I mutter.
“Listen to me,” he insists, his voice gentle but firm. “I forgive you. I don't hold any of it against you. And this…” He brings my hand to his lips, sending shivers down my spine. “Tonight? I had fun dancing with you. I’m sorry Michelle ruined that. That’s something from my past ruining the present. But I swear, it’s okay. Everything about our fight…it’s in the past. You don't need to carry that guilt anymore.”
His lips brush against my hand, my wrist, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My whole body feels electrified by his touch.
“Promise?” I exhale, hardly daring to hope. I watch as his lips gently kiss my arm, wondering what they’d feel like against mine.
He nods, his eyes serious. “I promise. And if I ever run into your brother—"
“I can handle myself,” I interrupt gently. “Believe me, he didn't get off scot-free.”
“You sure you don't want me to deal with him?” Matt asks, a protective edge to his voice.
I shake my head, meeting his gaze. No one has ever offered to protect me before. “No, that chapter's closed. I'm an adult now, living on my own. He can't hurt me anymore.” I let out a soft laugh. “Though he always hated when I called him out on his crap. I don’t talk to him because of the drugs, but we’re okay. Water under the bridge. Classic sibling stuff.”
