Lovers' Dance (59 page)

“Damn,” she muttered, eyes widening. “I forgot about that.”

“Madison,” Matt growled as she hurried to the door. “We’re not finished.”

She exhaled noisily and showed him her expressive middle finger. “Eat shit, Matthew. It’s my birthday today.”

The door slammed shut behind her and Matt glared fiercely at Nathan, who returned his look with one of reproach.

“What is your problem, Matt?” Nathan started in on him. Better to be on the offensive than defensive with Matt. That way you had a better chance of winning. “Carrying on like this. Shouting at Madison—”

“It doesn’t concern you, Nathan,” he replied frigidly.

Nathan scoffed as he let his eyes wander around the bedroom. There were items of Madison’s career strewn throughout the room. Ballet shoes hanging of the back of the chair, in the corner close to the window, and peeking out from under the bed. Leotards over one open door of the wardrobe, tights on its handle. He saw bits of Matt, too, in the room. The aftershave he used on the dresser, a few suits hanging in the wardrobe.

“You’re being an arse. A hypocritical one at that. So what if she’s had a bit to drink and funny brownies? That’s nothing in comparison to what we’ve done. Oh, don’t give me that look. I was right next to you doing blow in Denmark.”

“That was years ago. I was younger and foolish then,” Matt groused, cheeks tinged pink with barely restrained anger and embarrassment.

“Last time we partied like that, we were thirty, mate. That’s older than she is. Why are your knickers in a twist? Let her live a little.”

Matt narrowed his eyes at him. “Have you been in those brownies? Because it seems to me your brain is addled at the moment.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly fine,” Nathan said, in an attempt to maintain control of the conversation.

Matt peered at him. “You’ve had one, haven’t you?”

Nathan shrugged nonchalantly as he avoided Matt’s knowing gaze. “It would be rude not to indulge in the treats laid out by our hostess. Bella wanted me to try—look, that’s beside the point. Why are you behaving like this? It’s unbecoming of you. It’s her birthday and you’ve upset her, and everyone else, let me add. Plus, you’ve left me downstairs with her friends. There’s only so much Americanisms I can take, Matt. That Bret fellow can’t seem to grasp the offside rule. It’s irritating having to explain it over and over.”

Matt sent him another glare, arms folded stiffly across his chest.

Nathan rubbed his temples for a moment. “Her friends seem to think it’s better for her to be angry, mentioned something along the lines that if she’s arguing with you then she wouldn’t be crying. Is that because of her parents’ death? If I remember correctly, that’s around now, isn’t it?”

A range of emotions flew across Matt’s face, finally settling on shameful resignation, and Nathan knew he’d touched a nerve.

“I—” Matt paused, unfolding his arms and rubbing a hand vigorously over his face. “I left her to it, Nathan. I knew this time would be difficult for her, and I allowed her to convince me she would be fine. She’s not fine. Drinking for four days straight is not fine.” He finished on a frustrated note.

Nathan chewed his lower lip silently, then said blandly, “So you feel partially responsible for her current state, and your guilt is causing you to fight with the very person you’re worried about. Is my deduction correct?”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me, you tosser,” Matt groused, before stalking over to the window. Silence descended between them. Nathan waited. He knew his friend, and he knew he would talk when he was ready. Hopefully, Matt didn’t take too long to speak his mind; Bella was downstairs and Nathan wanted to get back to her as quickly as possible.

“I don’t know what to do, Nathan,” Matt finally said, facing the window and staring out bleakly. “The women I’ve been with…my past relationships, they’ve all tried their hardest to insert themselves in my life. Confided their secrets in hopes of deepening the relationship. You know all of this, you’ve seen it for yourself.” Matt turned to face him with that bleak expression on his face. “But Madi won’t. She keeps me at arm’s length, doubts us. It’s bloody perplexing, not to mention annoying. How the hell do you deal with Bella? How do you make a committed relationship work? This is a first for me.”

Nathan hid his dawning astonishment at Matt’s heartfelt outpouring with a light chuckle. “You’re absolutely smitten.”

“Is that all the advice you have to offer?” Matt said bad-temperedly.

Nathan sighed, then shrugged. “Just love her, Matt. Faults and all. It’s what I do with Bella, and I’m sure she does the same with me, although I have more faults than her.” Nathan sighed again, holding Matt’s gaze with his own. “I’m sorry.”

Matt’s face became guarded. “Sorry? About what?”

Nathan tugged his tie loose and scowled before taking a large bite of humble pie. “You love her, and I’ve been a complete arse about it. I’m sorry, mate. Truly I am.”

“Thank you,” Matt said sombrely. “Now tell me what the fuck I should do.”

“Let her cool off for a bit, then apologize.”

Matt arched a sceptical eyebrow at him, and Nathan chuckled before adding, “I bloody hope you’ve gotten her something smashing for her birthday.”

Matt cracked a small smile. “I have.”

“Good,” Nathan said with a nod. “Let’s go downstairs and sort your love life out.”

Matt’s smile wavered and he turned back towards the window. “You go ahead. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Nathan held his tongue and walked out the bedroom. He understood. Being in love was hard for men like themselves. He’d experienced it with Bella. The gnawing fear that made you second guess yourself, made you wonder if the shine was real or a façade of something that didn’t exist. Trust was something men like him didn’t give easily. Not with their money or their time. Trusting someone with your heart was the greatest risk of all but, if you found the right person…the gamble was worth it. So worth it. Nathan smiled softly as he quietly closed the door behind him, leaving Matt to his thoughts. Bella was worth it, and it seemed Matt had finally found someone worthy of giving his heart to. All Nathan had to do now was put the fear of God into Madison DuMont, because if she broke his best friend’s heart, he would make her regret it.          

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Everyone was acting normal, never mind the unspoken tension between Matt and myself. We were in the dining room, a room I rarely used. The boxes of old ballet costumes stacked on one side a testament to that fact. The conversation around the table was not about anything in particular. My friends talking to Matt’s friends while we both avoided each other’s gaze. I sighed and pushed the food around my plate. My buzz had disappeared and my appetite had gone AWOL since the argument. It seemed Matt wasn’t hungry either, as he silently drank his glass of water, eyes meeting mine over the rim for a second before our gaze skittered away from each other.

“Blimey,” Nathan coughed and snatched up his glass. “This is spicy.”

I caught Matt’s eyes on me, and we shared a slight smile.

“I’ll get more water,” I announced, reaching for the almost empty jug and getting to my feet.

“I’ll help you,” Matt said, pushing back his chair and standing up.

My back stiffened. Everyone started talking louder to cover the sudden awkwardness as I walked out of the room and headed to the kitchen with Matt close on my heels. It was obvious he wanted to ‘talk.’ I didn’t need help to get a jar of water, unless he felt I was too drunk to do it. I gritted my teeth in silent irritation, remembering the verbal assault he’d hurled at me upstairs. Humph. Cutting just like Grumps. I didn’t know what he’d done with my last bottle of whiskey. If I found out he’d thrown it down the sink, I would kick his ass into another race.

“Poppet,” he murmured, resting his strong hand on my lower back. A tingle of electricity went through me at his touch. I eased away. Electricity was all well and good, served a purpose, but it was dangerous, too. Both literally and figuratively in Matt’s case.

He sighed and let me move away. I grabbed a bottle of water from one of the cupboards and emptied it into the jar under Matt’s intense stare.

“Are you going to talk to me?” he asked.

I shrugged, not wanting to get into it. He sighed, then reached over to take the pitcher from my hands.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back, poppet.”

I watched as he walked out of the kitchen, noting the lines of his broad back under his shirt. His jacket was on my bed. I needed to remind him of that before he left. Was his tie upstairs also?

“Stupid man,” I muttered under my breath. I went over to the fridge and grabbed a can of beer. The fizzing sound when I opened it brought me comfort. It was fucked up, I know. My behaviour the past couple of days was cringe-worthy, but it helped me through this dismal time. Helped me deal with the pain…hide from the pain, numbed the pain. I brought the can to my lips and drank like a parched convict seeking freedom at the bottom of the aluminium can. Screw therapy, I had my own therapy and all it cost was a trip to Sainsbury’s or Marks & Spencer’s and a walk down the alcohol aisle. The demon drink. Once a year, he was my closest friend. He helped me in a way no one could. He made me forget my dreaded secret.

“Poppet,” Matt said from the doorway. How long had he been standing there?

I choked, spluttering beer down my mouth and chin. Shit.

He closed the door behind him and walked over as I clumsily wiped my face. God. I didn’t need another dose of his cold reprimands.

“Please, Matt. I don’t want to know how irresponsible I’m acting—”

“I wasn’t going to say that, Madi,” he interrupted quietly. “I don’t want to fight anymore, not today, not with you.”

“Me neither.” I observed him suspiciously. “What were you going to say then?”

He gave me a strained smile and reached for my messy curls. “Your hair is wild today.”

Instinctively, I reached up with my free hand to try and smooth it back. Matt stopped me.

“I like it, poppet.”

I snorted in disbelief and his smile stretched even further. He leaned down and pressed the softest of kisses over my lips.

“Happy birthday.” A kiss on the corner of my lips. “I love you.” Another kiss, this time across my cheek. “And I’m taking the next few days off work.” His mouth brushed over my temple. “So you’re not alone in this.” He found my lips again, slowly exploring the inner crevices of my mouth until I was moaning softly with pent up desire. Those chaste kisses after our dates were all well and good, but this was what I needed. His warm, sensuous lips masterfully claiming mine. I really needed this. The can of beer slipped from my fingers and fell with a little clink, spilling over my kitchen floor and rolling away. I snaked my hands up Matt’s chest, over his shoulders, until they ended up threading through his silky hair. Matt groaned and wrapped his arms around me before hoisting me up on the counter. God. I missed this. Of their own accord my legs wrapped around him and, when he pressed his lower body against me, the noises coming from us became desperate.

I pulled away from his consuming kiss, breathless and shaky. “Are we still doing this dating crap?” 

Matt looked at me, bottom lip caught between his perfect teeth. “Yes.”

I groaned in frustration and arched my body against his. Matt’s eyes slipped closed for a moment before he opened them. The lust spilling out of his eyes tore a whimper from my throat.

“Can we have sex, Matt?”

He licked his lips. “Yes.”

I was unbuttoning his shirt. The moment his tongue had made an appearance, the impulses coming from my brain to my hands were: Get him naked.

His hand covered mine. “Not now, poppet. We’ve got a house full of guests, and the things I want to do to you…” He inhaled roughly. “We need to be alone for me to make love to you the way I need to.”

Hot damn. The man had a way with words, but he did have a point. I sighed loudly, pressed up to his muscly goodness and aching. Only Matt could make me ache like this.

But I needed to address his previous comment. “Fine, I’ll wait until we’re alone so you can—”

“Shag you senseless, poppet,” he finished huskily.

Another shiver ran through me and my heart started racing, a medically worrying level of racing. This had to be bad for my health. No organ should be subjected to that level of activity. I inhaled deeply to calm my body down, then said, “I don’t want you taking time off work, Matt. You’re busy and it’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.”

He pulled back slightly to look at me square on. “Madi.”

“Matt, I’ll be fine. My friends are here.”

“Aren’t they flying back to the States tomorrow?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Dante’s got my back. Look, don’t worry about me. I’m sor—” I paused, the apology for the drama earlier on the tip of my tongue. “You apologize first, then I will.”

Matt gave me a bemused smile. “Why am I apologizing, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I shot him a sarcastic look and he winked at me. He slipped a hand under the edge of my boob tube. Fingers stroking upwards until…

“Matt.” My heart rate picked up a fast tempo as he fondled me gently. That gentleness disappeared seconds later when I leaned in closer to him. Matt groaned, squeezing my breast, and I groaned along with him. Forget the people in my dining room. The kitchen door was closed. They should know not to come in here. My fingers had resumed their attack on the buttons of his shirt while my lips crept across his masculine jaw.