Maybe Matt's Miracle

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Maybe Matt's Miracle Page 10

by Tammy Falkner


  “Are the kids in bed?” Matt asks.

  “You probably should have asked that before you attacked my daughter,” Dad barks. “It’s late.”

  Matt nods. “I know.”

  “What happened to your nose?” Dad asks.

  Matt grins. “She hit me.” He jerks a thumb at me.

  “Smart girl,” Dad says, and he smiles at me. He’s never looked at me with such fondness, and my heart lurches at the atrocity of it. Dad motions from Matt to me and back. “How long have you two been seeing one another?” he asks.

  Matt arches a brow at me. “Not long,” I chirp.

  Dad nods. “I guess I should be going,” he says. He stands up and shrugs into his jacket. I get up and walk him to the door. Matt goes, too, and he reaches out to shake hands with Dad.

  “Don’t disrespect my daughter,” Dad says.

  “Yes, sir,” Matt says. He dips his head and jams his hands into his pockets, looking a lot like Seth did today when I scolded him about confiding in Matt.

  Dad leans forward and pulls me into a quick embrace. This is new, too. I don’t remember him doing it before. Or at least not in a really long time. “Good night, Dad,” I say. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “I’ll try to do it more often,” he says loudly, talking toward Matt.

  Matt nods and ducks his head even further. I giggle.

  “Your mother wants to see you,” Dad says. My giggle falls away.

  “Why?”

  He takes a deep breath. “She just does.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell him.

  Dad leaves, and I close the door behind him.

  Matt sags onto the couch and lies down, flopping his arms out like he’s ready to pass out. “Oh my God,” he breathes. But he’s chuckling, too. His belly pulses with laughter. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?”

  He has one leg on the couch and the other on the floor, so I get on my knees between his spread legs and lean down over him, holding myself up with my hands flat on his chest. Matt doesn’t allow that but for a second, though. He pulls me to his chest and holds me close to him. His body rises and falls beneath me, steady and solid.

  “I would have told you he was here if you had given me time.” I laugh against him, and he raises his head to look down at me.

  “Don’t you dare laugh,” he says. “This is serious. Your dad is going to hate me from now on.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks,” I say. I scoot myself a little higher, getting my lips closer to his. “That was, like, the worst kiss of all times,” I whisper dramatically.

  “I know,” he whispers back. His hands land on my waist, and he lifts me, bringing my mouth even closer to his. He lifts the edge of my T-shirt, and his warm hands touch my naked skin. “I’m never going to kiss you again. Because that one was too awful.”

  “Terrible,” I say quietly, looking at his lips. “But I think we should try again.”

  Matt hooks an arm behind me and flips us over. He looks down at me. “You think this is funny?” he asks. But he’s grinning so I’m not worried.

  “Hilarious,” I breathe. “Don’t you?”

  His face lowers until his lips hover over mine. “You’re so fucking amazing that you make my heart hurt sometimes,” he says. My heart trips, beating hard in my chest.

  “Kiss me, Matt,” I whisper.

  Finally, his lips touch mine. The kiss at the door was full of passion and want. But this one is soft and hot and so genuinely perfect that I squirm under him, trying to get closer. His lips slide across mine, soft and damp and silky smooth. His tongue licks across the seam of my mouth, and when I gasp at the sensation, he sweeps inside. His hips grind against mine, and I can feel the length of him pressed against my belly. He’s hard and huge, but he’s still so gentle. I touch my tongue to his, and when he tries to pull back, I nip at his lips until he moans against my mouth and comes back inside.

  A tap, tap, tap on my arm draws me from Matt’s lips. I open my eyes to find Mellie’s dark eyes looking at us. Matt pulls back from me when I say something against his lips. Then he realizes Mellie is there. He sits up and crawls off me. I scramble to sit up, too.

  “What’s wrong, Mellie?” I ask. But then I realize what’s wrong. The smell hits me, and I have to cover my mouth. “Are you sick?” I ask.

  “I threw up all over my bed,” she says so quietly that I can barely hear her.

  Oh, hell, what am I supposed to do now? “Did you wake Seth up?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. “His door was locked.”

  “Oh, it’s okay,” I say. I take her sticky little hand, and Matt gets up with us. “Sorry,” I say to him.

  “No worries.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say. I wince because I feel bad.

  “I’ll help you,” he says. “Why don’t you put her in a bath while I change the sheets?” He starts toward the linen closet and rummages through the stacks of sheets there, until he pulls out a set he’s happy with.

  “You want to help?” I ask.

  He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Of course.”

  If I wasn’t in love with him before, I’m a lot closer now. He’s not even kissing me, yet I have a thousand butterflies taking flight in my belly.

  I lead Mellie to the bathroom, help her get cleaned up, and we put on fresh pajamas. When I come out of her room after tucking her back in, I find Matt at the washing machine starting a load of dirty sheets. Seth’s door opens, and he stick his head out.

  “What’s wrong?” Seth asks.

  “Mellie got sick,” I whisper.

  “Is she all right?” He goes into her room and comes out a minute later, after checking on her. “Sorry I didn’t help with that,” he says sheepishly.

  “It’s okay. We handled it. Go back to bed,” I suggest.

  “Must have been something she ate. She doesn’t have a fever.” Seth doesn’t look worried.

  It was probably the five cookies I let her have after dinner. Seth told me it was a bad idea and I didn’t listen. “Must have been. Go back to bed.”

  Seth looks from me to Matt and back and raises his brow. “Okay,” he says with a grin.

  “Shut it,” Matt grumbles playfully. Seth nods and goes into his room, closing the door.

  “He never locks his door,” I say, trying to figure out why he might do that.

  Matt grins. “Sometimes teenage boys need to lock their doors,” he says. “Trust me, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and leads me back to the couch.

  “Oh, you think he was doing that?” I ask. I’m still whispering.

  “It’s a good guess,” he says with a quiet laugh.

  “See,” I say throwing my hands up, “I know nothing about children.”

  “He’s a teenage boy,” he says. “You can always assume that first.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  “Four brothers,” he explains. “Remember? Not to mention that I’m a guy. We do that.” He grins.

  “You mean when you were younger.” I watch his face closely.

  His grin gets even bigger. “And older.”

  My face flushes with heat. He just smiles big and taps the end of my nose with his finger.

  I look down at my shirt. “I kind of smell like vomit,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I kind of do, too.” I saw him wash his hands after changing the sheets, and I did, too, but still. It’s not very sexy.

  “Thank you for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was here.”

  Matt reaches for the tail of his shirt and pulls it over his head. He’s wearing a sleeveless white T-shirt under his other shirt, so he’s not naked, but this one shows a lot more skin. A lot more tattoos. A lot more muscles. Matt is big and broad but tall and lean. I let out a dreamy little sigh.

  “Can I stay for a while?” Matt asks.

  “Yeah, but I need to change.” I get up and go change i
nto a long t-shirt and some sleep shorts. I come back out, and Matt whistles softly, staring at my legs.

  “Remind me to have her throw up on you every time we make out on the couch,” he says.

  I smile. I can’t help it. I sit down next to him, and he pulls me to his side. Then he lies down so that I’m draped across him. My hip is tucked between him and the back of the couch.

  “I don’t want to go home yet,” he says quietly. He pulls my head down to his chest, and I press my face against it. His hand settles on the back of my head, and he starts to stroke down the length of my hair.

  “Then don’t go,” I say quietly.

  He doesn’t. He just threads his fingers into my hair and drags them down my back, over and over, until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep on his chest.

  I wake up the next morning tucked into my own bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. I sit up and look around. Beside me on the pillow is a note. I open it up and read.

  Are you in love with me yet?

  Matt

  I look toward the clock on the wall again, and Paul scowls at me. “You counting the minutes?” he asks.

  Yeah, I kind of am. “No.” I scoff.

  Paul just rolls his eyes. “What time is the match?” he asks.

  “Seven,” I murmur as I clean up my station. “You want to go?”

  Pete steps out from the back where he was doing a piercing. “I want to go,” he says. He sends the guy he just pierced to Friday, who takes his money and sends him out the door.

  “I want to go, too,” Friday says. She starts to pack up her things.

  Paul throws up his hands and says, “Is anyone going to work tonight?”

  “Nope,” we all say at the same time.

  Logan grins and pulls Emily to his side. She falls against him and smiles. “Want to go?” she asks him.

  “And miss watching Matt get led around by his balls? Not a chance.” Logan laughs when I swing at him, and he sidesteps me.

  Pete keeps up the abuse. “She should just thread a string through that piercing in his dick and then she can pull him around with no fuss.” He adjusts his junk playfully. “Easier on your balls, too, man,” he says.

  “Quit talking about my junk,” I warn, nodding toward the girls.

  Friday grins at me. “We all know you’re bejeweled down there,” she says, making a motion toward my pants. “Bedazzled.”

  “It’s not bedazzled,” I murmur. But I don’t care. They all know about it already. I got mine right after Paul got his. Only Pete and Logan don’t have them. Even Sam is pierced. Logan has a bar through the base of his dick. Chicken shit. “And stop talking about my junk.” I grab Friday in a headlock and pull her against me. She squeals and bats at my hand.

  “Don’t mess up the hair,” she warns, blocking me. “It’s not easy to look this beautiful.”

  Truly, Friday is drop-dead gorgeous in a fifties-pinup sort of way. She wears vintage clothes and red lipstick. Sometimes I think she gets tips just by smiling at people. Both men and women love her. But sometimes…sometimes this aching sadness steals across her face. I’m not even sure anyone else notices it.

  Pete types into his phone really quickly. He finally looks up. “Reagan says she’ll meet us there.”

  Great. I get the whole family going with me to spend time with Sky. Woo-hoo. You would think at least one of them would have an appointment for a tat. Lazy bastards.

  We take the subway to the school and get there just as the boys are warming up. They’re running circles around the mat as I go and sit down beside Sky, who is in the bleachers with Mellie and Joey at her feet. They’re both using crayons and coloring in a coloring book. They look up and grin when they see me, though. I lean over the bench and remark about their drawings, and they go at it even harder. That’ll entertain them for about five minutes. I hope she brought more tricks in that big bag of hers.

  I sit on the bench near her and then shove myself against her side very gently, until I’m pressed up along her from shoulder to knee. She grins and shakes her head, her cheeks turning red.

  “Hi,” I say quietly. I look into her eyes.

  “Hi,” she returns. She looks so damn beautiful. She must have come from home because she’s wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. There’s a balled-up sweatshirt on the seat beside her. “How was your day?” she asks.

  “Better now that I get to see you,” I admit. She smiles and leans into me. I lean toward her face and whisper, “Kiss me?”

  She shoves my shoulder. “Not here,” she whispers. She looks around.

  “Please,” I say, putting my palms together like in prayer.

  She leans forward really quickly and touches her lips to mine. Last night’s kiss with our tongues touching and her body pressed against mine was pretty fucking amazing, but this quick touch has it beat by a mile. “Thanks,” I say. I can’t hide my grin, so I don’t even try.

  She bumps me, rolling her eyes.

  “I missed you today,” I tell her.

  She looks up. “Thank you for the note on my pillow,” she says quietly.

  I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Most of it is pulled up into an adorable ponytail, except for one piece that has escaped. “I really wanted to climb into bed with you.”

  Her eyes meet mine. “You should have.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t want Seth to think I spent the night.” That shit is important to kids.

  She nods slowly.

  “You felt pretty damn good, though, lying on top of me on the couch.” I’m getting hard, so I had better cut this shit out.

  “You make a nice pillow,” she whispers.

  “Just a pillow?” I pretend to pull an invisible knife from my chest.

  She pokes me with her index finger. “A nice, hard pillow,” she says.

  “Hard is about right,” I say. I look at the mat where the boys are warming up so I can look at something that’s not her. I want her so bad I can barely stand it.

  The boys are stretching their backs and their necks, and doing some pretty impressive rolls. Seth teams up with another boy close to his weight class, and they do some drills together. Seth flips the other boy onto his back, and I want to walk out there and show him how he should have handled it. But he’s not my kid, and I’m not his coach.

  Reagan and Pete sit down on the other side of Sky, and Reagan starts to talk to her. I’m glad someone is intervening because I want to drag her into a stairwell and kiss her senseless.

  Pete makes a motion at me like he’s threading a needle really close to his dick and then gives it a tug like he’s leading it around. I glare at him, and he laughs. Paul sits down behind us, with Friday beside him, and he laughs, too.

  “Shut up,” I grumble.

  I turn to watch the practice. Seth is really very good at what he does. But I like to watch all the kids in every weight class. Logan and Emily make their way toward us. Logan waves, and they sit down in front of us. Now Sky has Reeds on every side of her. Mellie and Joey are getting a little restless, and Joey makes her way down the bleachers without Sky noticing. She’s not used to this mom stuff yet. She sees it just as Joey gets to the bottom step and gets up to go retrieve her.

  “I’ll get her,” I say. I stand up and tromp down the steps. Joey looks sheepishly up at me. She knows she wasn’t supposed to sneak off.

  I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back up to Sky. She stretches out, and I blow a raspberry into her shirt-covered belly. She giggles and sticks her belly out like she wants me to do it again, so I do. She laughs, and the sound is so damn happy it takes my breath away.

  I sit down and tuck her into my lap, then pull out my phone and turn on some Angry Birds. I show her how to play it really quickly, and she starts launching birds. She moves off my lap to sit beside me, and Mellie comes to lean against her and watch. That should last them for a while.

  “Why does this seem so natural to you?” Sky asks quietly.

  “What?” I ask. I flin
ch as one of the boys on the mat makes a terrible move. “Not like that,” I say to him, even though I know he can’t hear me.

  “All of it,” she says. “You do it all so well.”

  I look at her. “Do what?”

  “You entertained Mellie and Joey, and you’re watching the match, and I’d wager you’re going to educate Seth and tell him everything he does wrong when we get home.”

  Home? I grin. “Am I going home with you tonight?” I ask right beside her ear.

  “You better,” she says.

  My heart stutters. “Okay,” I breathe.

  After a few minutes, Logan turns to talk to me. He talks and signs at the same time, and so do I. “Her dad,” he says, pointing toward the door. I scoot over to separate us a couple of inches.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I say, and I clap my hand on his shoulder and squeeze.

  You’re welcome, he signs. He grins and shakes his head. Pete pulls on his imaginary string. I want to punch him.

  My brothers are all into the smaller weight matches, and they’re making bets on the heavyweights among themselves. Seth is about 160, if I have to guess. He’s tall and lean, a lot like me, although I weight over 200 pounds now. Paul and Logan are big and bulky, so they wrestled in the heavier classes. I was the same weight Seth his now.

  Sky’s dad sits down beside us, and I reach over to shake hands with him. He glares at me. But then Mellie and Joey show him my phone, and he gets interested in entertaining them. Sky leans against my shoulder, watching the matches. She hides her face when one of the boys gets slammed on the mat.

  “That’s not going to happen to Seth, is it?” she whispers vehemently.

  I shrug. “Maybe.” I grin at her and tweak her nose. “Don’t worry. He’s used to it.”

  “He’s not going to get hurt, is he?” she asks.

  I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “Quit worrying. He’s going to be fine.”

  When it’s Seth’s turn, she pulls her hand out of mine and sits forward. She watches him closely, only looking toward Mellie and Joey every few seconds to make sure they’re okay. Maybe she’s going to settle into this mom thing better than she ever thought possible.

 

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