“What do you mean?” I ask warily.
“I watched you at the club that night. You preyed on him.”
“No… I didn’t.”
He sits back and laughs to himself. “You sought him out. I watched you. I watch you now. You’re using him.”
“I’m not using him,” I argue. My voice comes out small, and I’m having trouble maintaining eye contact.
“So you’re in love with him then? You want to build a life with him? Maybe get married? Have a couple of kids?”
I drop my face and close my eyes tightly to get some control before boldly saying, “What do you want from me?”
“The truth.”
“About what?”
“About what you’re doing with my friend.”
We sit and stare at each other for a moment. Me refusing to answer, and him refusing to look away. There’s a tension in the air between us, and it’s making me angry. It makes me nervous.
He wins. I’m the first to break the stare.
“I don’t have to listen to this,” I say as I stand up with the intent to go into Ed’s room and lock the door. But, I’m halted when Matt’s hand takes hold of my arm. Electricity floods my body. “Please let go,” I whisper.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“You don’t look twenty-two. I don’t believe you.”
He stands behind me. So close. I turn around and look into his eyes, my body shaking. “I’m twenty-two,” I repeat, my voice a little more convincing this time.
“Then why are you afraid of me?”
“I’m not,” I whisper, snatching my hand out of his. Another staring competition ensues. I don’t like this. I turn on my heel and practically sprint for Ed’s room, locking the door behind me. “Shit!” I slide down to the floor and try to breathe. Fuck.
A soft tap makes its way through the door above me. “Linda? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” I say defiantly.
“Will you come out? I just want to talk to you.”
I sit in silence. He did scare me. I’m afraid to spend time with him. Somehow, without even knowing me, he manages to see right through me to find answers I don’t want to give. He’s dangerous to me.
After a while, I hear him let out his breath and shuffle his feet back from the door. “I’m sorry, OK? I’m not trying to mess up your life. I just want to understand. You don’t have to hide.”
He waits for a few moments. When I don’t respond, I hear a sigh before he retreats down the hall. I stand and open the door slightly, peering through the gap with one eye. He pauses and looks back at me. My chest tightens. He really does look concerned and sorry. This is so confusing.
“Why don’t you like me?” I ask through the gap in the door.
“I do like you. I like you a lot actually.”
“But you don’t trust me?”
“I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”
“But you think I’m lying to Ed.”
“I do.”
“What have you said to him?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you going to?”
“No. Like I said, I want to understand who you are. Why you need to be here.”
We lock eyes, and I study the sincerity in his. I have so many questions but instead of asking them, I close the door and lock it. Then I stay put, pretending not to listen to Matthew moving around the house all day while I wait for Ed to return.
Twenty
I wonder if I’m failing at this bad guy thing. If I was any good at it, I’d tell Ed that Matthew creeps me out, or that he tried to hit on me. I could come between them, get Ed to choose me over his friend. But I can't do that to them. They've been best friends since primary school. And since I know more than most that good friends are hard to come by, I do my best to avoid Matthew instead. His roster is pinned against the refrigerator door, so I can make sure I’m out when I know he’s home. No more confrontations.
I don’t have much money, and I hate asking Ed to give me more. So I spend a lot of time at the local library. I’ve even got a library card now by using Linda’s ID, so I can take books back home with me. Between reading and running errands for Ed, I’m kept fairly busy.
“What are you reading?” a soft voice asks from behind me a few weeks into my avoidance plan. I almost jump out of my seat.
“I thought you were at work.” My hand flies up in an attempt to still the thudding of my chest. Matthew stands in the doorway wearing his trademark sleepwear.
“I pulled a double shift and swapped with someone,” he explains. “Why? You trying to avoid me?”
“I’ll um… go and read in the bedroom,” I say instead of answering as I rise from the couch.
“You don’t have to. Please don’t hide from me.”
I stop where I am and turn toward him in a rare moment of honesty. “I have to. You ask too many questions.”
“Because I want to get to know you. We live in the same house, and I don’t know much about you.”
“Matthew, every interaction we’ve had has been super tense. I don’t know if you want to kill me or fuck me. But I think it’s best for both of us if I stay out of your way.”
“I don’t want to kill you,” he says, those blue eyes of his getting darker. “I don’t want you to keep avoiding me either.”
“Then what? You want to fuck me?”
He hesitates like he’s considering it before he looks away. “I want you to answer my questions.”
“You ask the wrong ones.”
“But they’re important.” He moves closer to me, and places his hands on my upper arms. That wonderful flood of electricity flows again and I have to close my eyes. What is this? “Will you answer just one?”
“Just one,” I whisper.
“Your name.”
“What?” I frown, meeting his searching eyes.
“I want to know your name.”
“You know my name.”
“No,” he says, pulling me closer. “When I first met you, you hesitated before telling me your name. I looked you up. You’re not Linda Alessi. And you aren’t twenty-two. I see patients all day and all night. I’m pretty good at picking ages. You couldn’t possibly be over eighteen.”
Tears prick behind my eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
He moves even closer. So close I can feel his warm breath on my face. “Because. I have to know what you’re hiding from,” he whispers, a slight frown creasing his brow as he lifts his hand to move my hair back. “Just like I have to know why your face was bruised, who hurt you.” His deep blue eyes move side to side as he searches my face for answers, his hands moving to hold either side of face. I can't think when he's touching me like this. “Please tell me your name.” His eyes demand an answer from me and I feel like I’m trapped.
“Paige. My name is Paige,” I breathe out, squeezing my eyes shut so I can’t see his anymore.
He rests his forehead against mine and lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
When he moves back, I’m shaking, confused. This man is so intense it’s scary. How can he act like he doesn’t even like me one minute, and the next he’s trying to get to know my soul just by staring at me?
Without another word, he leaves me standing in the lounge room and disappears into the kitchen. I blink rapidly, trying to stop myself from crying. The interaction has rattled me beyond measure.
I can’t stay here. I rush down the hall and shove my things into my backpack. That was a colossal mistake. Matthew is Ed’s best friend. As if he isn’t going to tell him who I am. This has all gone to shit. I’ve fucked up.
You are far more stupid than I gave you credit for.
Wiping at my angry tears, I sling my meagre possessions over my shoulder and head for the front door.
“What are you doing?” Matthew asks causing me to gasp. I can’t even escape without him busting me.
“I’m leaving.” I pu
t my hand on the door knob and open it. “Tell Ed I’m sorry, OK?”
“Paige.” He rushes me and pushes it shut, blocking my exit. “I don’t want you to go.”
I press my forehead against the door, my head pounding from the stress. The sound of my real name, after months of pretending to be someone else affects me. Tears spring from my eyes, and I drop my bag before turning to face him.
“Please stop,” I cry. “You’re confusing the hell out of me.” He stands so close that it fogs my mind. “I can’t breathe around you.” I place my hands on his chest and push, but he doesn’t budge. Instead he places his hands either side of me so I’m caged against the door.
We’re breathing heavy, and we haven’t done anything except stare and be near each other. One of his hands moves and takes me by the base of my skull, bringing my face closer to his.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
But he does.
The moment our mouths connect, every orgasm I’ve missed out on with Ed bubbles to the surface, and I’m suddenly desperate. I wrap my arms tightly around Matthew as he pulls my body up against his and slides his hands underneath my shirt, his hands on my back.
I let go and remove my shirt hurriedly. Months of banal love making has made me greedy for this spark from my skin pressed against his. I want that electricity from his touch all over me.
The moment my shirt is over my head, he releases the clasp on my bra. I fling it off my arms, moaning when I feel his warm hard chest against mine.
“Paige. I want you,” he whispers, cupping my breast with his hand and kissing my neck. “Ever since I saw you dancing in that club, I wanted you.”
A slight whimper escapes my lips at the sound of my name. My name. Just the simple sound of me, makes me want him even more. My fingers thread through his hair as I pull him towards me, our attraction palpable in the air around us.
Attempting to move towards his room, we don’t make it far, our impatience getting the better of us. We’re against the wall, one hand holding my head steady as his mouth moves with mine in a heavy, devouring movement. He slides his other hand purposefully down, over my breasts and stomach until he reaches the waistband of my pants. His breathing quickens.
I gasp in anticipation when he pops the top button of my jeans. The zip slides down easily, and I rock my hips forwards as his hand travels south. The moment his finger slips underneath my panties and between my folds, my knees almost buckle.
“Oh.” I moan into his mouth as his fingers tease my throbbing clit then push into my depths. “Oh, God.” I shake in his arms, about to burst. I’ve missed this.
He pushes more of his hand inside me, filling me with his fingers and pulsing in and out, in time with my rocking hips.
“Holy fuck.”
“Come for me, Paige.”
Tilting my head back and breaking our kiss, I’m lost in the ecstasy of his touch and can’t seem to function beyond staying upright. His teeth graze along my chin as his hand moves, the heel of his palm pressing firmly against my clit. My fingers clench in his hair, my orgasm bursting out of me as I cling to him, moaning loudly while my eyes roll back and my body shudders against his.
Gripping my hair, he crashes his mouth against mine with a guttural moan as he slows down his movement and brings me back to earth.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come,” he growls, sucking on my lips. His kisses travel down, pausing slightly at my breasts as he swirls his tongue around my nipple and removes his hand from my pants. Gently, he drags my jeans and panties down my legs, lowering himself to his knees as he does so.
I feel his breath, hot on my mound as he slides his tongue between my folds. “And you taste good, too.” The moment his tongue flicks over my engorged nub, my hips jolt forward, causing him to look up and grin wickedly.
He stands, sliding his hands under my buttocks and lifting me against him. He looks into my eyes for a moment, and I feel like he and I are the only two people in the world, that destiny has had a hand in this, that we’re meant to me. It feels too good in his arms for it to be anything else.
When his lips reconnect with mine, I’m sure we are. This feels otherworldly to me. I’ve never felt such passion before.
Carrying me to his room, he drops me on the bed, raking his fingers down my body, sending erotic shivers racing over my skin, before he stands to remove his pants.
Climbing between my legs, he sits back on his knees and reaches into his drawer to get a condom. “Are you ready for me?”
I nod then he grabs my thighs and pulls my legs either side of him. My hips jolt as he uses his tip to slide around my opening and up over my clit to distribute my juices.
“Get inside me,” I gasp, so keyed up I feel like I might burst before he enters me.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted just that,” he says, gripping my hips. “Watching you bend to pull something out of the oven, curled up on the couch reading a book. It’s been driving me crazy.” He pushes his formidable length inside me as he talks. I gasp out at the size of him and grab at his arms, needing something to cling to. “I need this.”
“Fuck. So do I,” I say, losing my mind to his blissful intrusion. He pumps his hips back and forth as my orgasm builds and builds, and I moan, louder and louder.
“Jesus, Paige,” he yells, slamming his length into me. “You’re so tight.”
Every guy seems to say that.
Giving him more of what he wants, I clench my muscles around him, the pressure inside me building along with his thrusts until it bursts out, sending my hips jolting and my mind soaring. “Fuck,” I yell, my nails digging into his arms.
His thrusts become firmer, pushing his length in as far as it can go. With one last pump, he shudders against me before dropping his weight and kissing me again.
With slow purpose, our mouths move together. Gentle fingers explore each other’s bodies, touching lightly. The urgency of our passion draining away as our heartbeats and breathing calm.
Eventually, our kisses become smaller, slower. Until we stop and lock eyes, the gravity of what we’ve just done sinking in.
“Shit.” Sliding out of me, Matthew rolls onto his back and looks up at the ceiling. Without his body heat, I’m cold. Cold and incredibly guilty.
“We can’t do this again,” I whisper, a tear sliding from my eye.
“And we can’t tell Ed,” he returns, his voice husky.
“Never.” I roll my head to the side on the pillow and find him looking right at me.
The moment our eyes re-connect, something passes between us. It only takes a beat before we roll into each other, wrapping our bodies together as we lock our lips, moving as one, touching each other, devouring each other. Uncontrollable.
After another round of mind-blowing sex, we lay together, still wrapped in each other’s arms, catching our breath.
“This needs to stop,” I whisper between kisses.
“It will.” He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “Tell me who you are, Paige. I want to know everything about you,” he whispers, brushing his fingers through my hair as I rest my head on the pillow beside him.
Without hesitation, I relay my entire story to him—from the time I got kicked out, until the night I met them in the club—I didn’t bother hiding any of it. I had a feeling he’d see through any lie I told him. So, I was honest, and it felt good to say it all, to let it out after hiding for months behind a fake name, a fake personality.
It’s kind of like reclaiming the girl from the mirror and making her me again. My name is Paige.
“You’re only seventeen?”
I nod “Does that change anything for you?”
“No. I don’t see your age as a problem. I just want you.” He hooks his finger under my chin and pulls my mouth up to his. Slowly, our mouths move together, and I’m lost in his arms. Again. I'm lost in his mouth. Again. I’m lost in him. Again, and again, and again….
For the rest of the day, we explore each other’s
bodies, forgetting the world, forgetting about consequences. We lose track of time. We get greedy—or we just don’t care—but, when Ed appears in the doorway and clears his throat, I almost die.
“Ed,” I gasp, my eyes locked with his.
Matthew pauses mid-pump. “Fuck,” he mutters, the colour draining from his face.
We scramble to separate and cover ourselves with the bed clothes, but it makes no difference.
It’s too late.
Ed knows. Ed’s seen. I’m supposed to be his girl and I’m in here fucking his best friend. Oh god.
Ed’s jaw clenches, his body shaking with barely controlled rage. I don’t know what to do. I’ve just hurt the kindest, most gentle man I’ve ever known. He took me off the street, gave me a home, and took care of me. I can never fix this. I really am a bad person.
Twenty-One
Zero days since my last fuck up
It would have been better if Ed had gone crazy and yelled, but he didn’t. He just picked up my backpack and all the clothing and shoes that led him to us and dropped them on the floor of Matthew’s bedroom as we babbled nonsense, trying to explain ourselves.
“Be gone by the time I get back,” he said, cold eyes turned on me.
“Ed. Mate. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over us,” Matthew pleaded.
“Fuck you,” he bellowed. The eruption of his voice reverberating in my ears, causing me to jump.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
He didn’t even look at me. He just walked away, leaving us with the aftermath of our lust induced and monumentally stupid decision. Fuck.
We didn’t speak as we got dressed. We didn’t make eye contact. We knew it was wrong when we started. But we did it anyway.
As I lifted my bag onto my shoulder, Matthew finally spoke. “I’m so sorry, Paige.”
I gave him a vacant smile. “Aren’t we all?”
“If it wasn’t for Ed. You and I could—”
“Please… just… don’t. Don’t talk like this was ever more than it was.” I shook my head. “It makes no difference now.”
Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet Page 78
