by J. C. Allen
“Sure, kid!” I shouted back and stood.
I looked down at Grace, who appeared to be silently freaking out.
“Relax.”
“He’s never seen me like this. I mean, what does he think when you have other women over?”
I turned and saw her putting her leggings back on and tying her hair back. I… I had no idea how to respond to that question. It just seemed so… weird.
“I, uh, don’t bring women over here. And if I did, I especially wouldn’t if he were here.”
She widened her bright green eyes at me. It was pretty obvious I had some misconceptions I had to clear up.
“You don’t have women over? I thought you—”
“Were a womanizing man whore? In hindsight, but I haven’t since…”
I trailed off. She walked over and stood up under me with questions in her eyes.
“Since?” .
“Um,” I said. Tell her the truth. “Since you came back into town.”
I scratched behind my neck as it heated up. I watched her gaze go from shock to… I don’t know what. I literally had no idea if my statement would please her, piss her off, or just prompt more questions to get to one of those two states.
“So… you expected that I would have sex with you.”
“Wait, what?” I said with a laugh, but there was something in her eyes that cut that laughter off.
“I mean, you thought that I would just want to pick up where we left off in high school?”
“No, Grace. I never said that. Why are you being—”
“Uncle Matt, I’m too young to use the stove!” Michael shouted.
I let out a breath and walked away from Grace before Michael hurt himself.
But I had a feeling this wasn’t the end of it.
12
Grace
I hung back in the bedroom for a little while as I ruminated over everything that Matthew had said.
Admittedly, I probably overreacted. No—I know that I did.
I felt bad. Matthew had been nothing but kind, and I accused him to save myself from the feelings of what might be. As much as him using me terrified me, there was a real fear that he wasn’t using me, that he actually did like me. The fear of being loved, unfortunately, was quite real, and as much as I hated it and as much as I wished it wasn’t the case, there was no getting around it.
He wasn’t a womanizer, he really did care about me, and this could be real. I was more than sex, more than just a good time to him. Maybe it was yet the one millionth sign that I was an awkward weirdo, but I just couldn’t have shook in the moment the paranoia that came that I would get hurt.
Well, fuck me.
At least Rosella is fine in Chicago.
I gave myself a pep talk and got fully dressed before I went back out to the living room on the way to the kitchen. I heard them laughing and smiled at Michael telling a joke. Hopefully, Matthew would understand that I had just had a moment and nothing more.
And hopefully, it’s one of the last such moments that I have.
“Because it got stuck in a crack!” Michael shouted.
I watched Matthew actually laugh, not give a fake one. I had heard that joke many times and had to fake laugh by now, but it was oddly reassuring to see someone else think it was funny.
And then Michael saw me.
“Aunt Grace! What are you doing here?”
No getting around this now. I swallowed and walked over to the table. It was right by the window, with sunlight streaming in, lighting Matthew’s hair and Michael’s eyes.
“I um… was hanging out with Uncle Matt.”
I sat next to him and smoothed his hair back. He grinned at me and took another bite of his grilled cheese. Matthew seemed calm, at least; he didn’t seem to be harboring any annoyance at my semi-outburst from just minutes before.
“Like adult hanging out?” he said, raising his brows.
I laughed and glanced nervously at Matthew. I think both of us were in the same spot at that moment—how the hell were we supposed to respond to such a statement like that?
“What do you know about that?” I said, stealing a chip from his plate and chewing it.
“Nothing,” Michael said, but he said it with such a tone it was like he almost wanted to get caught knowing about it, as if he could brag about it to his friends.
I just figured staying silent and playing dumb was the best course of action. I got up to make myself almond milk. I mentally reminded myself to start buying groceries so I wasn’t totally bumming on Matthew—provided that my statements earlier weren’t lingering to the point of an outburst from him.
“Can I go watch TV?” Michael, said hopping off the stool and trashing his plate.
“Sure bud, not too loud.”
He ran off, as if he knew we needed to talk—maybe he didn’t, but I swore Michael was way smarter about this kind of thing than any of us gave him credit for. Matthew and I were alone now. The energy in the room changed, and my gaze fell to his. He sat at the dining table and leaned back, crossing his arms. He wasn’t pissed off like some madman, but he knew that I was at fault.
“I’m… sorry for…”
“Making me out to be an asshole?” Matthew said.
Shit. This isn’t going to be a fun conversation.
I nodded slowly and put my glass in the sink. I walked over to him until I was right in front of him.
“Yes. Pretty much that.”
Thankfully, his eyes softened at me as he took my hand. His hands closed around both my wrists as he tugged me down onto his lap. I gasped from the sudden movement, but I nevertheless went with it and wrapped my arms around his neck.
His hands cradled my face, and he took a deep breath.
“I’m not,” he said as I listened as intently as I ever had to him. “I may have lived my life a certain way before, but I was never an asshole. I had no ulterior motives. Just that when I saw you again I… all I could think about was you. I was afraid, but no, I didn’t make any sly moves to try and get you.”
That was true. I felt bad for what I had said, especially more so now because I hadn’t realized that—and it was obvious, too. It wasn’t like his actions were a secret to me.
“I know. I shouldn’t have said that I just don’t want to move too fast and then. I, I just have never had to trust someone like this.”
“You don’t trust me?”
It wasn’t an accusatory question, more just a natural followup. Still, it was brutally honest to hear, and I knew I had to answer it equally honestly.
“No I do, I just…” I trailed off.
Fuck, I don’t know how to word this. I haven’t had to open up and share myself. It was all going so fast that my head was spinning.
Yet, if there was anyone I was going to be open and honest with, it was him.
“I wasn’t just a virgin Matthew. I have never been in a relationship before. Talking things out and being open is something I have never had to do.”
He chuckled at me, his mood softening by the moment.
“I get that, angel. But you should trust me, OK? We’re in this together.”
He kissed me then, soft and sweet on my lips. His hands roamed across my back and squeezed my breasts before cinching my waists. I know we needed to contain ourselves before Michael came running back in here and had more evidence of “adult hanging out.” But…
I linked my fingers through his hair, so full and silky I just lost myself with it. I grinded my hips against him and thought about forgetting my soreness and sitting on his cock right here.
But I have common sense. Michael was right there—and all it took was him asking for a snack for me to be embarrassed for life.
“Fuck, you drive my crazy angel.”
“Sorry,” I said with a giggle.
Not really sorry. I bit my lip, warm from his kiss. My heart pattered quickly.
“We should get started on your place, huh?”
I nodded and slid off his lap. I
was honestly grateful that we had something else to focus on—in the absence of things to do, I was just going to turn into a sex-crazed woman, unable to do anything else.
“Yeah. What about Michael?”
Matthew shrugged, as if it was no big deal.
“He can help.”
I couldn’t decide whether or not I liked Matthew’s bike better or his car. Both were equally masculine and sexy as hell. One let me wrap myself around his strong, hard body, and the other let me watch his muscled forearm flex as he gripped the steering wheel and his perfectly fitted jeans, straining at the crotch.
It was hard to imagine I even had sex with him. But I sure as hell was glad that I had finally taken the plunge on him.
That, me of all people, landed this hunk of a man was still something of a mindfuck. I remembered every bit of it; every touch of his, every kiss… but I still felt removed from the whole thing. We did it multiple times, and it just all felt like a blur. I guess that meant my body just wanted more to remember it. There are worse things to want.
Michael hollered about something in the back, thankfully getting my mind off of sex. The kid didn’t seem to have any idea what was going on, but he was very inquisitive, so I figured it was coming soon enough. He already came awfully close with his “adult hanging out” comment.
“You have luggage or you need boxes?” Matthew asked as he parked.
I brought Michael out with us as well, because I didn’t want to leave him out here alone. Not in this neighborhood especially.
“I have luggage. I can pack my stuff, you don’t need to come. You can stay with Michael in the car if you want.”
“I would be bored otherwise.”
He grinned down his nose at me, and I smiled back, chewing on my lip to hide my nerves. Somehow, he just had that effect, even after sex.
Michael carted himself along, and I took his hand, walking him between Matthew and me. We reached my unit. Thankfully, the ugly eviction sticker was down and my keys still worked. I was lucky the landlord had a bit of sympathy and was letting me pay the month out and then just move.
There were only three items total, two duffel bags and a luggage. I think that Matthew and even Michael had been expecting some heavy lifting, but with each person taking one thing, we cleaned it in one sweep.
“This is it?” Matthew said.
“Yeah.” I admited.
I wondered if he thought that this was a sign that I was a real bum. I could fit everything in basically three bags; what girl could do that? Hell, what human could do that? A broke ass one, that’s who.
Thankfully, though, Michael didn’t seem to judge.
“Let’s go bud,” I said to Michael.
I had to work hard to avoid saying “let’s go home.”
I got settled into Matthew’s guest bedroom in only two hours or so. Really, with only three bags, it was kind of a surprise it even took that long.
Matthew played video games with Michael while I unpacked, perhaps all too aware that if he helped, it would quickly dissolve into us having sex again.
And yet, now he would be down the hall from me with nothing stopping us from being near each other. I wondered what would happen if I needed space and couldn’t get it. I knew that it was very early and that I shouldn’t think that far ahead, but if something did go wrong, I wouldn’t have anywhere to run to. This is it for now.
All I could do was work hard at the bar, wear whatever tight clothes I had to, and save money to find my own place. And then, hopefully, get a job that I actually wanted to do.
I looked around the room from my place on the bed. It was a very good size, almost the same size as the one that Michael had. The carpet was a dark gray, matching the bed frame that was in here. I wondered why Matthew had so many guest rooms that were also set up, but I was not about to start complaining now.
As I sat on the mattress, I noticed how it felt new and bouncy. The sheets were the same merky gray color, but I changed them to the one set I have, sky blue and periwinkle. He had a huge dresser in here, so big that my clothes only fit in half of it.
I could hear the two boys laughing off in the distance. I lay on the bed, intending to take a power nap… until my phone awoke me. Rosella!
“Hello?”
My voice was groggy and I sounded ill. She picked up on it immediately with a laugh.
“Oh my god, you sound horrible!”
“Because I am. What are you doing?”
“Packing. I come back tomorrow, remember?”
Oh, right. Yeah my memory sucks pretty bad.
“Oh. Yeah I thought it was the day after.”
“It’s not. I just talked to Michael. He said you live with Uncle Matt now.”
Well, guess that secret is out the window. Then again, what did you expect with Michael?
“I, um… He offered after I got an eviction notice. It’s a long story.”
“Uh huh. I bet,” Rosella said, amusement in her voice. I knew I was going to have to tell all the stories sooner rather than later—I was still figuring out if I looked forward to that. “Well, I just wanted to see how you were, now that you have been deflowered.”
I really hoped Simon isn’t with her. I didn’t exactly want Simon to know I had no sex life up until last night.
“I’m okay. Thank you.”
I think Rosella picked up that I wasn’t interested in continuing this thread of conversation, because she wrapped up awfully quickly.
“I’m excited to see you. We’ll have to have a girl’s day when I get back.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“Talk soon, I love you.”
We hung up, and I went to shower. The bathroom was even dressed in the rugs and such that are soft and plush. The shower was a tub with dark curtains that make me feel like I was showering in absolute solitude. It was unbelievably fancy and nice—I knew that Matthew and the boys had done well for themselves, but this was far beyond even my wildest expectations.
I dressed in leggings and a sweater before I ventured around the house to find the boys. Michael was asleep in his room, so I followed noises for Matthew until I got to the basement.
Voices. Multiple ones…
Is someone here that shouldn’t be?
The door creaked as I open it, the steps carpeted and muting my steps.
“I don’t think we should tell the club at all, we don’t know what this is.”
“Yeah but this is obviously a threat, we might all be in danger—”
I stepped on a creaky stair. All of the Kinsmen brothers, save for Simon, are staring at me. I don’t think I’d ever seen a scarier sight in my life, nor did I believe I ever would again.
“Sorry I…I thought you were intruders.”
I swallowed from the nerves. My eyes darted to Matthew, who was thankfully smiling at me from his place on the arm of the leather chair sans shirt, in only his sweats. If he always walks around shirtless, I am definitely in trouble.
“Nope, just my asshole brothers.”
I glanced at Zeke, who was also grinning, and Jaxson, who clearly wanted me gone. Don’t interfere with club business. That’s a good way to really get Matthew pissed off.
“Cool, I’ll, uh, be upstairs if you need me.”
They all nodded, relieved at my smart decision, and I dashed back up the steps. I closed the door and leaned against it to take a deep breath, gathering my wits. That could have ended very badly. They wouldn’t have hurt me but… yeah, there are limits to what I can do here.
I headed to the kitchen to try and figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life. I barely had any money in my account, and while the bartending gig at the club was certainly nice, I would only be working on the weekends. I would be incredibly bored if I were working during the weekdays when there aren’t many customers, not to mention I wouldn’t be making any money.
And then I got a phone call that I never, ever anticipated getting, certainly not since there were no signs of it coming bef
orehand.
“Mom?”
I answered the phone and sunk into the couch. I felt my stomach in my throat every time I tried to take a breath. Mom… what the hell was she doing calling me? What did she want?
“Hello Gracinda, how are you?”
Her voice may have been soft and warm, but she wasn’t. She only made herself sound that way for the investors and society type my father made her be around. It was the most fake, most bullshit-laden thing I had ever seen in my life.
“I’m fine. I’m surprised you are calling me though.”
I haven’t seen you since five years ago when you said take your lifestyle or leave. And I chose to leave… why now?
“Why be surprised? I wanted to check on you. See how you are doing.”
That can’t possibly be it. Surely, there’s something more.
I scoffed and decided I have the time to dig. I figured if I told her the truth and gave her everything, it might shock her so much that she would be forced to hang up and leave me alone. I was letting my emotions getting the best of me, but it wasn’t exactly a battle I was upset about fighting.
“I was evicted yesterday. So not so great.”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Sympathy?
I expected many things from my mother. Annoyance. Disappointment. A lecture.
But sympathy? That was about the last thing I would have pegged my mother to say.
“But you know that wouldn’t have happened if you still lived here with us. So does that mean you are coming home?”
Ah, there it is. The fake sympathy, followed by the disappointment. I should have known that this would happen. I haven’t spoken to her long enough to have remembered.
“I… no. I’m living with a friend. Is that why you called? To ask me to come home?”
She paused for a moment. I couldn’t really think of much that she could say that would make me come home; maybe if she or my father was sick, but otherwise…
“Yes. Your father is having his annual party soon and we hoped you would come. It would be the perfect time to introduce you to some of your father’s friends and their sons.”
