by Clara Bayard
I sat there, listening to him and something occurred to me that I had to find out. "You know, you actually talk a lot."
He laughed, shoving his hair out of his eyes. "Thanks?"
"Damn. I didn't mean it like that. I just… well, you know. You're the quiet one. In interviews you only respond if asked something directly. Becca told me she wasn't sure what your voice even sounded like for weeks. But when we're alone, you have plenty to say."
He shrugged and sat back. "I've always been that way, I guess. Most of the time when people talk they're not really saying anything. Besides, I'm surrounded by loudmouths. It's easier to let them do their thing. I jump in when I feel like it."
"Being with me makes you feel like talking?"
"Sometimes. But being with you always makes me want to get to know you better and I can't do that without talking." He brushed a hand over my cheek. "Well, some ways of getting to know you don't require words."
I giggled and blushed like a total fucking dork. Matthew brought out the strangest things in me. A combination of shyness and boldness that made my head spin. I liked it.
"Sorry," he said teasingly. "I know you were trying to have a serious conversation, but I couldn't help it."
"I don't mind. I like all of the ways we communicate."
"So do I. And, to be serious for a second, there's another reason I talk more when I'm around you."
"What?"
He smiled. "You listen. Actually listen. Most people don't. At least, not to me."
"If they don't, they're stupid."
"Maybe."
I lifted my legs onto his lap and snuggled closer. "Definitely." I gazed deep into his eyes.
"And there's that," he said.
"There's what?"
"The way you look at me. The way you see me. I like that."
I arched an eyebrow. "I would think the opposite. That you'd like not being seen. Don't you get tired of having the whole world looking at you all the time?"
He shook his head. "I spend most of my time standing in a spotlight, but no one actually sees me. I'm just there. The leftover one whose name they forget."
"You're not."
"Not to you."
I smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Never. And if the rest of the world could see what I do, you'd be mobbed all the time."
"I doubt that." He frowned. "Don't get me wrong. I appreciate everything I have. But sometimes I just wish… I don't know."
"I understand," I said, hugging him hard. "But I still think you're wrong. I'd be happy to have you all to myself, but I don't. People care about you. When you were in the hospital, there was a crowd of fans outside. They slept in the parking lot. I remember."
"They weren't there for me. They were waiting for Joe. Or, Dex. Hell, some sick fucks even prayed that Rick was okay. But no one even thought of me. I'm the other one. If I'd walked out without the entourage, no one would have even paid attention. In some ways it's cool. I can just play music, not worry about the bullshit. But I have to wonder. If I'd died in that accident, or if I died tomorrow, would anyone have noticed? Dream Defiled would be fine without me, and it's a bit of a blow. To the ego, and the heart."
My eyes filled with tears for him. He thought he was invisible to the world. I could see it in the way he walked, the way he spoke when he was in a mood like this. I recognized the expression on his face, the slump of his shoulders. I'd looked and moved the same way for a few years. Every new school, every new foster home. Every single time someone found out I was "that girl who watched her parents die." It was too much. I wanted to be seen for myself, not the facts of my life. So I hid in plain sight, shrank into myself the same way he did. Having Steven by my side changed all that for me. And maybe I could change it for Matthew.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Matthew muttered, taking my face in his hands. "I didn't mean to dump all that out on you."
"I'm glad you did. I want to know what you're thinking and feeling."
He chuckled humorlessly. "Be careful what you wish for."
"I mean it."
"I know you do." He sighed. "The truth is, I just don't know what to think. Everything is still so fucked up with the band, it's making my mind race about all kinds of things."
"You guys seem to be pulling it together."
Matthew shook his head. "Sort of. Sometimes. I don't know. After Ryan… after the accident we promised to do better. To stop letting petty things fuck with us. And we're trying. But something just isn't right. I can't even explain what it is, but I think we might be broken. Really broken, Ellie." His voice cracked with emotion and he buried his face in my neck.
I held him tight. "You're not. I know it. You guys are magic together. That hasn't changed."
"Everything else has. Look at tonight. Each of us gone our separate ways. How long before it becomes separate lives?" He pulled away from me and crossed his arms. "We're family, this band. Brothers for years. We thought that would protect us from typical band bullshit. But families fall apart all the time, too."
I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "They sure do. Mine did."
"How?"
I fisted my hands on my thighs. "The worst possible way. When I was a little kid, my father murdered my mother right in front of me. I was so scared I couldn't move. But he came over to me and I thought it was my turn to die. But he just put the telephone in my hand and told me to call the cops. Then he went over to her body, looked at her for a minute and then blew himself away. Then it was all over. My family was gone. They died in less time than it took for the cops to come and take me away."
Matthew put his hands over mine, kneeling in front of me.
"I-I'm just telling you so you know that I do understand. How scary it is. How alone you can feel. I spent most of my childhood shuttled from foster home to foster home every few months. They couldn't deal with me, with my issues. I didn't finish a semester anywhere until the house where I met Steven. We managed to stay together until he turned eighteen, and he's my family, it isn't the same. I'm not the same girl I could have been. I never let myself really feel safe. Because it can all end. Everything ends."
"It does," he whispered, squeezing my fingers.
"But I did learn one thing. You can't control the world. But you can control yourself. You can fight for what matters. You can hold on as tight as possible for as long as possible. And if you do, then sometimes it can work. Sometimes you can keep the thing you love. Get through the bad times. Find that you're not over, you're just down. Not down and out. Not yet."
Matthew's eyes shone with tears and he reached up, kissing me hard, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. "That's beautiful," he said against my lips. "You're beautiful."
*
We dozed off for the rest of the ride, clinging together to keep from drowning in the pain of the past, and fears of the future. The bus offloaded at the new hotel in the new city and I barely saw any of it.
Matthew escorted me to my room and carried my stuff. He ordered coffee from room service while I took a shower. We didn't talk much, words seemed unimportant. And insufficient. Opening our hearts, admitting out deepest fears in the back of a tour bus had taken our relationship to a new level. It kind of scared me, but I couldn't stop smiling, even as sadness encircled me.
While I was soothing my sore body and refreshing my mind, my thoughts were on the man waiting for me in the other room. Matthew was like no one I'd ever met before. And I was falling for him. Hard. Harder than I ever had before. I'd never let myself value romance as anything but a diversion with a quick countdown timer. But now, with him, I thought of the future. Three more months of the tour together sounded like heaven. And after that, maybe something even better.
When I came out of the bathroom he was sitting on the bed, reading something on his phone.
"Everything okay?" I asked, filled to bursting with overwhelming emotions.
"Yeah, sure. Just checking the schedule for today."
I looked over at the
clock sadly. "Do you have to go?"
He stood up, came over and took my hands in his. "Nope. This is officially sleep time for the band, but I'm not tired."
"You're not?" I adjusted the towel I had wrapped around my head.
"Nope. I was, kind of. But then I was sitting here, listening to the water running in the bathroom, imagining you in there… wet, naked, soapy…" he flashed a sexy smile. "Better than uppers."
I blushed and slapped him lightly on the arm. "Pervert."
"Yup." His eyes blazed as he stared at me.
I returned the gaze, enjoying the way my heart was racing, the way my whole body hummed being so close to him.
But for once, Matthew didn't seem to be able to read me. He stepped back and crossed his arms. "Uh, it's okay. I know things got a little intense before and it's late or early or whatever. I can just see you later, I guess."
I barked out a laugh and threw my arms around his neck. "God, don't you ever shut up?" Before he could reply I kissed him hard and deep, pressing myself against him as hard as I could.
He froze for a second and then kissed me back. His mouth devoured mine and a low, hungry sound emanated from his chest. He shifted us and walked me backwards until the backs of my knees hit the bed. We tumbled down, frantically touching skin and tearing at clothes, sucking at each other's lips hard enough to bruise. It was like a dam had flooded and every second was an eternity.
Matthew yanked off the top and shorts I'd thrown on after my shower, running his hands over my still damp skin, making me shudder. He licked down over my chin and neck, down between my breasts to the swell of my stomach. Holding me still with his hands on my hips, he kissed and nipped at my least favorite part of me, worshipping what I always wished I could hide.
Squirming as desire threatened to drive me insane, I wondered how such an unsexy part of my body could feel so erotic. And then, as one of his hands slipped between my thighs, all thoughts left me entirely.
As his fingers touched me I moaned and arched my back. It felt like every minute we'd ever spent together had led to this and I couldn't wait anymore.
"Please," I said, gasping.
He chuckled. "In a hurry?"
"Yes."
Without a word, Matthew finished undressing himself. He rose up to kiss me on the mouth while he unwrapped a condom and rolled it down his thick length. Keeping eye contact, he positioned himself between my legs, spread me open with shaking fingers and then slid inside.
I groaned as he filled me, slowly, perfectly.
"You are so beautiful," Matthew whispered, holding himself up over me with his forearms.
I pushed his hair out of his eyes and rolled my hips, cherishing the sensation of him inside me, finally. It felt like my body was made just for this, just for him.
He pulled back a fraction and then slid home again. And then again. And then once more. I gripped his hips as we found a perfect rhythm, sliding over and against each other, skin to skin, heart to heart.
As heat coiled deep within me I wanted to shut my eyes, but I wouldn't let myself. Keeping my gaze locked on those deep, soulful hazel eyes centered and excited me. The combination of passion and care in them was almost too much to take. But I took it happily, took all of him and gave all of me.
Matthew cupped the back of my neck in one hand and pressed his forehead against mine. Thrusting deeper and faster, he pushed me higher and higher. Watching the strain on his face and feeling the tension filling his body, I knew he was close. I clenched down and moaned, biting my lip to keep from screaming as my own climax exploded suddenly, filling me with delicious fire.
He joined me, holding himself still as he pulsated and erupted, nestled completely inside me.
After an eternity, he rolled onto his side, our bodies still joined, and wrapped his arms around me. Matthew's heart pounded against my chest as he stroked my hair, panting.
I opened my mouth but no words came out. There was nothing to say. I wanted to live in this moment forever, so much more deeply connected with him than I'd ever been with anyone.
We held each other silently for a long time, until the cool air in the room made goosebumps on my skin and I shivered.
"Are you cold?" he asked, voice barely audible, even two inches from my face, full of the same satisfaction and sweet fatigue I felt.
"A little."
He shifted to pull the sheet over us and winced.
"You okay?"
He nodded. "Just moved weird. I'm getting old, I guess."
"Yeah, right." Something about his answer pinged in my mind, but I was too blissful to try and figure out why. Instead, I snuggled close again and closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of him, memorizing it.
"So," he said, nuzzling my neck, "Do you need anything?"
"Just you," I whispered.
"Good."
My fingers danced down his back, and I loved the way his muscles flexed under his skin.
"Better stop that," he said playfully. "Unless you want a lot more of me in a second."
I giggled. "I want it all, Matthew."
"Right now?"
My voice was husky with renewed desire when I replied. "Right now and always."
He groaned and lowered his hand to my bare hip, lifting my leg over his. "Your wish is my command."
I smiled and kissed him softly, pressing my body closer. He was getting hard again and I curled my fingers around the base of his cock. "Mmm, so I see. Want to know what I wish?"
Matthew sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. "I think I can guess."
I slid my hand over his length and pulled him against my heated core, sliding the tip of him over my swollen clit, gasping at the sharp pleasure that brief touch brought.
He hunches his back and leaned down to take one of my nipples in his mouth, smothering the soft flesh in damp heat. But an instant later he let out a yelp of pain.
I sat up, instantly terrified. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said through gritted teeth. "Just sore from the bus, maybe."
I looked down at him, taking in the sweat beading on his forehead, and how pale his face had gone. "Bullshit." I took his hand in mine. "Matthew, tell me the truth."
He shut his eyes and took a series of deep breaths, every one making my fear grow, before finally looking at me again. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."
Seven
My heart was thundering in my chest, and I could barely get the words out. "I promise. Now, tell me."
He sat up gingerly, wincing again. "I lied to you, Ellie. I lied to everyone."
"About what?"
Matthew shook his head and sighed. "You know in the accident I was lucky. Bruises and a couple of cracked ribs."
"Yeah. Was there something else we don't know about? Another injury?"
"No." He placed a hand over his stomach. "But one of the ribs didn't heal right. I don't know if I moved around too much during our time off or if one of the doctors missed something or it was just a fluke, but it's fucked up, and…" He paused and looked at me, pain and sadness filling his eyes. "I saw someone right before the tour started up again. A thoracic surgeon. She wanted me to stay at home and have a procedure, but I didn't. I couldn't."
Snapshots of the past flashed through my mind, moments when he seemed off, and there were quite a few. "Oh my god, have you been in pain this whole time?"
"It isn't constant or anything, but, yeah."
It hurt me to imagine him suffering in silence, keeping it secret from everyone. "But, didn't you have to get cleared? Or insured or whatever?"
He scoffed. "Yeah, by the doctors that the label pays. They take care of all the artists, but it's mostly bullshit stuff. They give out sleeping pills and shots if someone loses their voice, that kind of thing. All they did was ask if I felt better, and I did at the time. No one came back to check, they didn't do another x-ray or even a real exam. Just signed the paperwork and sent me on my way. I went to see this other doc on my own, just to see. I thought it was no
thing, or I was just healing slower than they thought I would. By the time I found out the truth it was too late."
I didn't understand at all. "Too late for what?"
"To delay the tour. Everything was moving. Money was spent, the train was rolling."
I put my hand gently over his, feeling his slow, deep breaths. "And that's your plan? Just deal with the pain until the tour is over? How?"
He shrugged. "I'll see what kind of pain meds I can get. Just be careful with it and I'll be fine."
"Is that what the doctor said?"
Matthew turned his face away.
I grabbed his chin and made him look at me. "Tell me. Right now."
He groaned. "No, we've been emailing. She says the longer I wait the worse it can get."
Deep inside I wanted to cry for him. But rage built and overwhelmed that. "You stupid asshole! You're running around and fucking me and all this in pain. How dumb can you be?"
He recoiled briefly, but then smiled. "It's worth it."
"What is?" I spat.
"Being with you. I'd break every bone in my body for just a chance to touch you, to be inside you." He ran a hand up my thigh.
Every inch of my body warmed, but I shut it down. "Stop it, I'm serious."
"So am I."
"That's flattering, but really fucking stupid. Your life is more important than sex, Matthew. And the shows."
"Come on," he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. "It's not like I'm going to die."
"You could. What's the best case scenario if you do nothing, pain for the rest of your life?"
"Probably."
I sighed and rubbed his shoulders, letting the anger leave me, revealing the terror behind it. "What does the doctor say you need?"
"She wants to reset the ribs with metal plates, get them to heal correctly."
"Recovery time?"
"Months."
"And no one else knows about this?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
I was hurt that he'd lied to me, kept something like this a secret, but I could also understand. "Well, if nothing else, I'm glad you told me."
"So am I." He kissed my bare shoulder. "Look, I'm not going to be a total dumb ass about this. I will try to be careful and as soon as the tour is over I'll do whatever the doctors want. But until then, this has to stay between us. I won't… I can't risk messing everything up right now. Not when my band's whole life is on the line. We're barely hanging on as it is. I know you get this."
