I resort to another swig of my beer, the few seconds those two spend staring at each other feeling like a fucking eternity.
Maybe I should have given Matty a heads-up that Asher is gay? Too late to second-guess it now, and while that bigotry is a side of Matt that caught me off guard back when it first came out—because truth is, he generally treats everyone more than decent—I know that a big part of why I didn’t mention anything about Asher is that I’ve never had the guts to call Matt on it directly.
Not that I didn’t have my reasons, of course. And sure, maybe it’s a cop-out to use how torn up Matty was over his father as a reason to ignore the little digs he throws out whenever the subject comes up, but I guess it’s also been a bit of self-preservation. I can’t say I like that one piece of him, but it’s also not worth losing him over, you know?
Matty and the guys here at the station are the only family that matter to me.
Fuck if the situation here hasn’t surprised me when it comes to Asher, though. Not to say that Ash hasn’t gotten some shit from some of the guys and won’t keep on getting it, because sure, it’s Boston—supposedly the eleventh most gay-friendly city in America—but Matty isn’t the only one who failed to get the gay-friendly memo. Still, overall? Ash’s whole out-and-proud-and-dgaf demeanor has already reduced the bullshit to a mere trickle.
Doesn’t hurt that he’s a hell of a firefighter. Between that and his refusal to act like he’s the one with the problem, he’s already got a whole slew of allies here at the station… some of them from the likes that I wouldn’t have expected in a million years.
Case in point, Bill, who would’ve been dead last on my list of good ol’ boys who’d be okay with men who like men… much less quick to jump to their defense, like it looks like he’s primed to do right now as he eyes the standoff between Matty and Asher.
Of course, Matty ain’t dumb, either, and he can sense the tension even if he has no clue what it’s about yet.
“So, you my welcome wagon?” he asks Asher, the easy grin on his face almost masking his confusion as he tries to figure out why everyone up to the chief is giving him a bit of side-eye.
Asher smiles back, and gotta give it to him, you can tell he’s not here to be a dick, he’s just not one to wait when he can take action, you know? Seen that about him on the job already, too, and it’s a quality I admire… when it’s not making my stomach twist into a knot, like right now.
“Just wanted to say hello,” Ash tells Matty, pulling another guy forward who I recognize right away from pictures. “This is Quinn, my fiancé.”
Matt’s eyes widen for a second, but… hello, who is this man and where’s my best friend? Because sure, I don’t expect Matty to be an outright dick, either, but I also most definitely don’t expect him to hold out his hand to Quinn the way he does and give both of them what I recognize as a genuine smile.
“Congratulations,” Matty says. “You guys got a date set?”
Asher blinks, looking as thrown as I am, and the way I see Quinn sneak a hand onto Ash’s lower back in obvious support makes me realize what I probably should’ve guessed from the beginning: sure, Asher’s got those balls I mentioned, but doesn’t mean it’s easy for him every time he has to swing them around, you know?
Just makes me admire the guy all the more.
I finish off my beer, not sure if the other thing I’m feeling is envy or inspiration… I just know that I’d give a lot to have that kind of confidence in this one area of my life.
Matty, Asher, Quinn and the guys start shooting the shit, the tension dissolving like it had never been there, and I’m joining in, but I’m kinda watching Matt the whole time, too. Looking for signs that he’s faking it with this new and sudden gay-comfort level, I guess.
And you know what? I don’t see any… and it’s got me feeling unsettled in a way I’ve got no words for.
A good way, maybe.
Matty and I finally give in to the smells from the grill and break away from the little group, heading that direction to grab a couple of burgers.
“We got any plans next weekend, Johnny?” he asks me as we walk that way.
I shrug. “I’m on shift Saturday and Sunday both.”
“Friday?” he presses, fumbling a couple of plates off the stack with his one good hand and holding them out so I can take one.
“I’m off Friday,” I tell him. “What’s up?”
He gets busy building a burger, and I’m so busy trying not to laugh at him doing it one-handed that it takes me a minute to realize he’s doing mine. I bite back a smile, knowing damn well that it’s little shit like this that Matty doesn’t even think about that always has Bill teasing him about us being boyfriends. Bittersweet… but mostly sweet, if I’m going to be honest and let my inner romantic out for a second.
Not, of course, that Matty means it as anything like that. He’s just always been that way, and I like to think that for all his talk about keeping an eye on me when we’re on the job, I do my share to take care of him, too.
We look out for each other, you know?
Although, when it comes to burgers… I shake my head, figuring there will always be things that even the closest of friends agree to disagree on, right? I know Matty appreciates cheese and tomatoes and onions in other contexts, but on a burger? I’ve never understood it, but I can attest that it’s true: he’s never been able to stomach the combo of those three on meat, and no amount of me trying to convince him he’s missing out has ever gotten him to see the light.
He finishes adding all the condiments I like and hands it over, taking the empty plate from my hands with his one good one and starting on his own. Not that that takes long. Cheeseburger, plain and dry.
Heathen.
I almost forgot he was asking me about plans until he tells me what’s on his mind.
“Eden was saying something the other day about wanting to try cooking a fancier meal,” Matty says. “She wants to be able to do something worthy of a little dinner party, so I’ve been thinking about how to make that happen.”
“Sure,” I say, since I’m pretty much down for anything that makes her happy.
“She doesn’t know a lot of people here,” Matty reminds me. “But I thought maybe we could put something together, yeah? But you know, keep it simple. Just us and… and maybe a couple others.”
“Yeah?” I say, muffled around my mouthful of food. Matty knows exactly how I like my meat, and it’s fucking delicious. I jump to the obvious conclusion. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna have Bill and Jimmy over.”
Matty snorts, shaking his head. “After the way they got into it over that PlayStation game the last time? I don’t think their wives will let them come back over.”
I laugh, but gotta agree. Then I have a thought, and it’s out of my mouth before I can stop it, because hell, I guess I’m still a little shell-shocked from today’s version of Matt.
“You’re not thinking of inviting Asher and Quinn, are you?”
Matt stops trying to pick up drinks he has no free hand to carry and looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
Right. Of course he isn’t thinking of those two. Doesn’t look like I’ve managed to trigger old-Matt, though, since he just laughs and gives up on the drinks in favor of more food.
“I just met those guys, bro,” he says, hip-checking me out of the way so he can scoop up some potato salad. “Didn’t I say I’ve been thinking about this for a bit?”
His efforts with the potato salad aren’t going great, given his cast, so I have mercy on him and step in to handle it, grabbing a couple of forks and a bag of chips after I load up both our plates.
We walk over to a picnic table that’s set up on the grass before he gets to the point, and it’s a good thing we sit down before he does, otherwise I would’ve fallen right over when I finally hear it.
“I was thinking…” Matty starts, toying with his food. Then he takes a breath and looks up at me, like he’s bracing himself. “Got a le
tter from Papi.”
I freeze. Matty hasn’t called Santi that since we were kids.
“His fiftieth birthday’s coming up,” he says.
“Yeah,” I manage eloquently, because for real, it’s all I’ve got.
Of course I know about the letter. I know Santi’s birthday is coming up, too. Already ordered him a bottle of that pricey scotch he likes online, didn’t I? What I don’t know is what’s come over my best friend, and how I can keep this version of him around for a bit longer… like forever, maybe.
Matty clears his throat. “Don’t know if Dad has any plans—”
“Nick’s taking him on a cruise,” I blurt, shoving the burger in my mouth right after the words burst out in the hopes that I haven’t popped the bubble of never-would’ve-believed-it-in-a-million years that we seem to be sitting in.
For a second I think I might have. I’ve never actually come out and point-blank admitted I keep in touch with Santi, and right now, Matt’s looking at me like he wants to say something about me breaking our unspoken “don’t ask, don’t tell” agreement about his dad. Not fair, since he started it—but then he just shakes his head and gets back to making his point.
“Anyway, I thought we might have Dad and his—and Nick over,” Matty says, proving once again that it truly is my day to have the shit shocked right out of me. “For dinner, you know?” He gives me a smile that turns something over in my chest, adding, “Help Eden knock that cooking thing off her bucket list once and for all.”
“So, this is about Eden?” I ask cautiously.
I mean, it’s a stupid question, because Matty possibly opening the door to having Santi back in his life? That’s about a whole lot of things bigger than just Eden, no matter how amazing she is. But still, seems like the safest way I can think of to respond to this totally unexpected turn of events.
It works, too.
The tension disappears from Matty’s shoulders as soon as I say her name, and he gets a shit-eating grin on his face that tells me I’m definitely right about him having gotten into her pants.
Fuck, and now I’m picturing that… just a little too vividly, thank you very much.
Vividly enough that I kinda wish I still had a beer in my hand to cool me off. Why didn’t we grab a couple more to go with the food? Oh, right. Because Matt’s only pulling half his weight in terms of carrying things these days.
I shift on the bench, reaching down to discreetly adjust myself and glad as fuck that he’s obviously got other things on his mind right now and doesn’t seem to notice.
“Guess you could say it’s about Eden,” Matty says, popping a chip in his mouth. “She might have pointed out what an ass I was being about… you know. Things.” He shoves a whole handful of chips in next, so that it’s hard to understand him, but pretty sure his next words are: “Kinda miss having Dad around.”
“Pretty sure Santi misses being around, buddy,” I say.
And instead of giving me shit about being a sentimental sap, or making a joke about it, or doing any of the things I might’ve expected from him, Matty reaches out and squeezes my arm and looks me in the eye and sends my heart rate fucking skyrocketing, even though I couldn’t have said why this look feels different than the sixteen million other times he’s ever looked at me in the lifetime that we’ve known each other.
I swallow hard, just… frozen.
“Thanks,” Matty says, smiling. “Pretty sure I’m gonna need you to be there if I… if I do this.”
“Pretty sure I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” I tell him, since it’s God’s honest truth.
He squeezes my arm again, still holding my gaze, then drops his hand and picks up his boring-ass burger and waves Jimmy and his wife over to join us when he sees them wandering around with plates in their hands. Bill joins us a minute later, too… and then Asher and Quinn, who bring an entire six-pack of that cold beer I was just wishing for.
And yeah, I was just wishing for one, but I turn it down in favor of a soda, because truth? I feel a little off-kilter right now. Intoxicated, even. But since I’ve only had the one beer so far, well, maybe it’s not really the alcohol.
Can you get drunk on possibility?
Because all the surprises Matty’s thrown at me in the last hour are making me think that a lot of things I’d assumed would never happen might be… well, not back on the table, exactly.
But maybe not entirely off it, either.
11
Eden
I’m a little in awe as I look at the spread of food we’ve prepared for tonight’s dinner with Matt’s father, and I know for sure it never would have happened without these two amazing men in my corner.
Matt’s planning and organization skills were in overdrive all week, and his idea of doing a make-ahead menu so we weren’t scrambling today was a stroke of genius. And Johnny? The man is a human Energizer Bunny, and the way he jumps in with both feet when something’s important to Matt—like tonight is—is a testament to the size of his heart.
Just as big as the rest of his mouthwatering body.
I tear my eyes away, feeling guilty, and then gasp softly when Matt wraps his good arm around me from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. The way he touches me electrifies me, every time.
“What do you think, beautiful?” he asks, nodding at the food. “Are we good on number sixty-six now?”
I bite my lip as I do my best not to react to his touch too obviously, all too aware of Johnny watching… and of all the things I know about Johnny that Matt doesn’t.
That we slept together.
That I want to again.
How mind-blowing it felt to have Johnny fuck me.
How hot it is to know that he wants to be with Matt that way, too.
Matt’s hands skim over the silky material of the dress I’m wearing, teasing my hips… my stomach… the base of my ribs. I shiver, biting back a moan. Is he trying to torture me? Tempt me?
It’s not the time or place, for so many reasons, and it suddenly occurs to me that maybe Matt is trying to distract himself, too. Seeing his father for the first time in eight years is going to either be hard as heck on him tonight… or amazing.
Maybe both.
Johnny’s tossing an apple up in the air and catching it over and over while we all try to pretend we’re not watching the clock as we wait for Santiago and Nick to arrive, and when Matt presses a kiss against the side of my neck… well, to say that a part of me still feels conflicted about being openly affectionate with him in front of Johnny is the understatement of the year.
I’m turned on.
I’m guilty.
I’m scared Johnny will see… and pretty sure that I want him to, too.
Oh, Lord. I’m a hot mess, aren’t I?
Johnny catches my eye, his gaze sliding down my body like a physical touch, and he grins, eyes going hot when I shiver, and I just know he’s thinking something that’s just as wicked as the thoughts in my own head.
I catch my breath as my whole body reacts to him. I can’t pretend I don’t want Johnny again… badly, because I do. I just can’t see a way to have my cake and eat it without hurting Matt, who so far seems oblivious to the undercurrents that threaten to sweep me away whenever the three of us are together.
It’s like he has a blind spot, one so big that I’d almost think it was intentional if I believed Matt was wired to ever deceive Johnny on purpose. Still, how he’s managed not to notice how Johnny feels about him after all their years of friendship is beyond me. Now that I know, I can see it in a thousand small moments every day… and God, it’s both hot as hell and a little bit heartbreaking.
“You gonna answer the man, princess?” Johnny asks me, that low, sexy timbre his voice drops down to telling me for sure that he knows just how dirty my thoughts were getting.
I blink, pulling myself away from Matt because… well, not because I want to. I guess just because no matter how hot my fantasies have gotten lately, I can’t really imagine how sleeping with b
oth of them can possibly work out in any way other than someone getting hurt.
I have no idea what Johnny’s talking about, though.
“Um… what?” I ask, looking back and forth between these two men who make me want to throw every socially acceptable moral out the window and indulge myself like a greedy, wanton—
Matt laughs, low and dirty, and I feel my face go hot. I swear, I never used to be like this, but lately, I can’t be in the same room with either one of them before wanting things I would have been embarrassed even to admit to a few weeks ago.
“Distracted by something, Eden?” Matt asks with the kind of innocent expression I might have fallen for back when I first met him.
“Stop,” I say, putting my hands over my cheeks as they heat up. I wrack my brain, trying to remember what the question was. “Um…”
Matt laughs again, crossing over to stand next to Johnny. He snatches the apple out of the air the next time Johnny tosses it up—he’s really getting good with his left hand, something I can attest to—and then sets it back in the fruit bowl and throws his good arm around Johnny’s shoulders. “Looks like she needs a… hand with that one, yeah?”
He manages to make that sound dirty as all heck, and oh, if he could only see the heat that flares in Johnny’s eyes. Still, Johnny has mercy on me.
“Matty wants to know if this—” Johnny sweeps a hand out, taking in the meal we’ve got laid out on the table and which I still can’t believe turned out so well, “—is good enough that you can check learn to cook off your bucket list now.”
Oh, right.
I nod, still too distracted by what these two do to me to censor myself when I answer. “I’m officially crossing it off,” I say, smoothing a hand down over my dress. “Just in time, too.”
Matt and Johnny’s eyebrows go up at the same time, both of them looking at me curiously.
“Just in time for what?” Johnny asks.
“In time to get it done before I turn twenty-five,” I answer, still distracted. It’s my only excuse, because I’ve never admitted what that birthday means to me to anyone, not even Auntie Maria, and yet I go ahead and add, “Not that I’ll make it that far, of course.”
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