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Authors: Nicola Haken

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BOOK: The Making of Matt
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“I’ve missed you.” The words tumbled spontaneously out of my mouth without permission.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you too.” He exhaled a short laugh, like it surprised him. If he genuinely missed me, missed our friendship, that was all on him. I’d tried.

“Then why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“I was confused. When you kiss-”


You
were confused? Oh I’m sorry, I thought you already knew you were gay.”

“Are you planning on being an ass
all
night?”

Sighing, I pushed the hair off of my face, running my fingers over my head until they reached my neck. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I said quietly, looking to the faded brown carpet. “It makes no sense. I’ve never been attracted to a guy before. Not ever.”

“Are you telling me you
meant
to kiss me?”

“What the fuck kinda question is that? You think I just tripped and fell on your face?”
You’re being an ass again.
“Sorry. Yes, I meant it, and now it’s all I can think about.
You’re
all I can think about.”

There. I’d said it. And I felt one hundred pounds lighter.

“I had no idea,” Alex said, so quietly I barely heard him. “I thought you were, I don’t know, experimenting. Joking. Drunk.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I was scared.”

I stood up so my eyes were level with his. “Of what?”

“That I’d be right.”

I’d spent almost three weeks trying to prove my heterosexuality to myself, trying to unscramble the mass of conflicting emotions wreaking havoc with my mind and body, trying to convince myself that what happened in the utility room was a result of grief and alcohol… But yet again as I stood this close to him, feeling his breath on my face, admiring those damn blue eyes that sparkled with unshed tears, my every thought was clouded by my need to touch him. To taste him. To hold him so close to my fucking body and never let him go.

So I did.

Gingerly, I ran my fingers along the smooth ridges of his exposed arms, settling on the back of his neck. My face paused just inches away from him, my breath mingling with his. His gaze swept to the side, refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Alex look at me,” I whispered. Slowly, reluctantly, he did. “I
mean
this.”

Surprising me, Alex moved in first, his lips brushing mine so softly I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t imagined it. I gasped as he moaned into my mouth, his kiss growing firmer as he grazed my teeth with his tongue. His day-old stubble, coarse against my skin, was such a foreign sensation that in all honesty weirded me out for a few seconds, until he wound his fingers into my hair, making me forget not just his stubble, but everything.

My body didn’t seem to care that it was a man pushing me backwards onto the bed. The throbbing ache in my rock-hard dick told me I’d never been so turned on in my life. His kiss was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His lips were harsh in their assault as his hard and heavy body pinned mine to the mattress. It was rough and fast with no time to take a breath, fuelled by passion, need and fear.

It was the
best
fucking kiss of my life.

A sudden calm washed over Alex. His wet tongue slipped out of my parted lips, teasing them as he broke our kiss. I took the opportunity to draw a few, flustered breaths as he rested his face in the crook of my neck. Mentally, I gave myself a brief pep talk, thinking back to what happened last time we kissed.
I can do this
, I told myself, before the mere thought of him touching my dick made me break the silence with a throaty moan.
Oh hell yeah, I can definitely do this.

My cock was hard and begging for attention when I felt Alex’s body tense above mine.
This is it,
I thought, digging my ass into the mattress to give him access. But then he inhaled deeply into my neck, his breath setting my skin alight, before blowing out a tortured sigh and climbing off me completely.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, feeling like an inexperienced teenager as I propped myself up on my elbows. It was a question I never expected to have to ask someone. I was a damn good kisser and I knew it.

“I-I can’t do this,” he said, staring down at the floor. “Not with you.”

Whoa.
Rejection. I think it would’ve hurt less if he’d kicked me in the balls.

“That’s the second time you’ve said that. Why not with me? What the fuck is wrong with me?” I sounded exactly like one of the many clingy chicks I’d had the misfortune of waking up next to, and I hated myself for it. I was Matt fucking Carter. I didn’t do desperate and I sure as shit didn’t beg.

Until now.

I stood up, forcing him to look at me by tugging on his arm. “Alex this isn’t a joke. I swear to you I really
am
feeling all these things for you. Feelings I don’t understand. Feelings that fucking terrify me. But they’re there. They’re
real
.”

“It’s not
you-

“Oh please,” I interrupted. “Don’t insult me by playing the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ card. I’ve played it enough times myself to know it means shit.”

Alex shrugged away from my touch. “But it’s the truth. I care about you too much to let you get attached to the idea of something that will never work. Something I can’t commit to.”

“Sorry, was I drunk when I proposed marriage to you? Because I sure as hell don’t remember.”

He shook his head, tutting at me. Fucking tutting! “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I glanced down myself and then around the room, exaggerating every move of my head. “Me standing here pissing you off now, too?”

“Do
that
. Start being an ass because you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” I spat. I just hoped the single tear stinging the corner of my eye as it threatened to tipple over didn’t betray me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I felt what can only be described as desperate, desperate for him to hold me again, to tell me I wasn’t going crazy. “Just don’t lie to me about commitment bullshit when I’ve never once asked you for any such fucking thing.”

Alex was absolutely right. I was an ass when I was upset. I couldn’t seem to help myself.

“I don’t do relationships.”

Seriously, that’s your excuse?
“I’m not even asking for that much. Can’t we just see what happens?”

“I don’t do casual either.”

I laughed, turning away from him. If I didn’t laugh I would’ve punched something, most likely his face. “What a croc of shit. If you’re not interested just be fucking honest! I can take it. What I
can’t
take is you lying to me.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t want to fight with-”

“Oh come on. Despite popular opinion I’m not a fucking idiot, Alex. I’ve seen you with countless guys. Hell, you’ve even had one of ‘em in my fucking house! So don’t start trying to convince me you’re some kind of born again fucking virgin.”

“You’ve seen me with
a
guy. Singular. I’ve
only
been with Ryan for the last three years.”

“So…” I took a moment to try and unravel his unnecessary lies and what the possible reason behind them could be. “You
do
do relationships?”

“No, no,” he protested, frustration lacing his voice. I shook my head, smiling mockingly, annoyed that he felt
he
had the right to be irritated with
me
. “It’s not like that between us.”

“You’re not making any fucking sense.”
And who the hell is this Ryan anyway?
If he was so important to Alex, why didn’t I know anything about him? “How come if you don’t do relationships and you don’t do casual, you can do whatever the fuck it is you do with Brian?”

If I hadn’t been so pissed I’d have been ashamed of myself for being
that
guy - the guy who purposely uses the wrong name because they’re jealous.

“Because he’s the same as me!” Alex yelled before turning sharply and slamming his fist into the wall behind him. Not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to make a dramatic impact.

“Ah, now I see what this is all about. He’s gay and I’m not. That it? I might not have known all my life like you, but that doesn’t make what’s going on in here…” I thumped on my chest, “Any less fucking
real!

“Goddammit, Matt!” he screamed with such force I shrank back a step. “You want the truth?”

I wasn’t sure I did anymore. The intense flash of pain in his eyes when he roared flooded my stomach with heavy panic.

“Ryan’s the same as me because he’s HIV positive.
I’m
HIV positive.”

All traces of moisture evaporated from my mouth, my tongue so suddenly dry I felt like I was about to choke on it. Either from the previous anger, or the fact I felt like I’d just been sucker-punched in the chest, that hovering tear rolled down my cheek.

“HIV,” I repeated, the word feeling bitter on my tongue. “For how long?”

“I was diagnosed six years ago.” His words winded me and I tugged on my shirt in an attempt to ease the imaginary sensation that my throat was closing up.

“I…I…” I didn’t actually have a clue what I wanted to say. “I need to leave.”

“Matt wait,” Alex pleaded, blocking the door with his arm as I approached it.

“I share
everything
with you!” I cried. “All this time…” I trailed off, my heart pounding so violently it took my breath, and my words, away. Shoving his arm to the side, I opened the door and ran.

As I jogged to my car my emotions battled with one another inside my head. Betrayal, hurt, anger and devastation all fighting for the top spot. I slid into my car, grateful for the tinted windows when my head fell forward onto the wheel and I cried like an eight year old girl.

 

***********

 

Another thing I liked to do when I was upset, apart from being a dick, was to consume alcohol until I could barely remember my own name. I may’ve owned a club with my own endless supply of vodka, but I knew I would be found too easily there. So I headed home to shower and change before ringing one of my old hangouts, a VIP lounge at one of LA’s most exclusive clubs, to let them know I’d be arriving tonight. The dress code excluded the VIP lounge, as it should for the five thousand dollar entrance fee, so I slipped into my favorite pair of ripped jeans and paired it with a white button-down shirt and black waistcoat.

Arriving at the club was like stepping back in time, back to a point where life was fun and uncomplicated. I had a driver pick me up and when I stepped out of the car into a sea of flashing lights coming from the photographers that were permanently camped outside, I almost forgot how angry I was with Alex. Why hadn’t he trusted me enough to tell me about such an integral part of himself? Granted, it was a purposeful omission rather than a direct lie, but I suddenly felt like I didn’t know my best friend at all.

And fuck, that hurt.

His revelation also made me realize how little I actually knew about HIV. It’s one of those things you hear about but don’t pay any particular attention to. My knowledge covered the fact you can’t transmit it through touch or saliva and that it was one of the reasons suiting up the big guy was so important. I never felt like I needed to learn any more than that.

I needed alcohol and I needed it fast, so I didn’t entertain the paparazzi or the screaming chicks outside. I strode straight past them alongside one of the club’s security guards who escorted me to the upstairs lounge. The best thing about places like this? I didn’t need to put in an ounce of effort to get where I needed to be; the land of obliteration.

I sank into one of the white leather couches nestled in the corner of the dimly lit room, allowing the waiters to service my every need. Relishing the burn of the whiskey chaser as it slithered down my throat, I felt every one of my problems drift away with each sip. Feeling a flush creep around my neck after the fourth, maybe fifth, drink, I popped the top two buttons on my shirt, undoing a third when I saw a brunette with legs that went all the way up to the fucking clouds approach me. This lounge was strictly VIP only, but everyone knew they ‘accidentally’ let a few chicks slip through the net, providing they were hotter than the coals of hell.

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked as she settled down beside me, flashing her a wink that I knew would dissolve her panties. It was about time I moved on from my ridiculous fascination with Alex. So far, all it’d caused was a fuck ton of confusion, anger, and the loss of a friendship. I needed to get back to my old self.
And what better way than sticking my dick between this girl’s ginormous tits?

“I’ll take a rum and Diet Coke, please,” she answered with a saccharine voice, tilting her head and looking up at me like a lost puppy. I clicked my fingers in the air, relaying her order to the waiter who was by my side in an instant. “I’m Precious,” she introduced herself.

BOOK: The Making of Matt
12.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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