The Two-Night One-Night Stand (13 page)

“Spoon or fork?”

“Spoon.”

“A spoon girl.” He grins. “Me too. Spoon versus fork is always a controversy in my family when it comes to mac ’n’ cheese.”

“Spoon all the way.” I lift my spoon and clink it into his, then I scoop up the first delicious mouthful. I start to smile as I chew. Okay, this isn’t so bad. I was nervous about how this would go, but amazingly I’m feeling more at ease than I thought, and gobble up a second mouthful.

“So, um… split you like a log, I don’t even know where I got that from.”

Oh no. I stop chewing. No. Stop talking. Easy moment, come back. Please,
please
don’t go there.

“Maybe I got it from porn?” Oh God. He’s still going there. And no, he did not just say that. His face drops. “No, not porn. I don’t watch porn.” He tries to laugh it off but the forced chortle he snorts out only makes things worse. “Well, maybe sometimes.” He continues and I cough on some of the macaroni sliding down my throat. His hand rakes furiously through his hair; the front piece is now sticking straight up.

I have to say something. I need to say something. But I can’t. The pointy spike in his hair and panicked expression on his handsome face is just too much. Did this sexy, adorable, fact-loving nerd really just admit to watching porn? Laughter wells up inside me and even though I try hard to contain it, I just can’t. And before I know it, gales of gut grabbing laughter roll out of me. Moisture wets the corners of my eyes and I reach up to swipe at a few escaped tears.

“Go ahead, laugh. I clearly have issues.” He has a lopsided grin and actually begins to laugh along with me.

I breathe in through my nose and hold it, trying to contain any more laughter from coming out. It’s a hard force to fight against and a second round of giggles snort out.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to laugh.” I gasp with a slight hiccup. “It’s just, I’m the youngest in my family and sometimes my immaturity slips out.” My laughter finally dwindles as I remember that was one of the many reasons Tyler gave during our breakup. He called me childish. Even my smile vanishes. “And being the baby of the family sometimes I tend to act
childish
even though I’m in my twenties,” I apologize, using the same word Tyler labeled me with.

“Childish? No way. You’re silly. Fun. I love it. The fact that we’re able to sit here and laugh after all the weirdness we’ve been through speaks volumes.” His sincerity is endearing. Comforting. Refreshing. “I’m the baby, too. I have two brothers, and they’re quite a bit older than me.” He crooks his fingers into air quotes. “My mom calls me her ‘surprise.’ My brothers call me ‘the broken condom baby.’”

“That’s awful,” I say, but it brings a smile back to my face. “Is that who you were with the night I met you? I remember you were with two guys at the bar.”

“Yes, that was them. They’re the ones who kind of encouraged me to talk with you.” He shakes out a chuckle. “So much for brotherly advice.”

“They told you to lie about who you were?”

“No,” he corrects himself. “But they did encourage me to go back over to you, especially after we got a glimpse of your real date.”

“My real date?” I’m confused. “Are you saying Nick was there? You saw him? If he was there, why didn’t he come over?”

“Probably because he was too busy giving free breast exams at the bar to unwilling patients.” Matthew walks back over to the leftover macaroni on the stove and stirs the pot, both literally
and
metaphorically.

“That jackass.” I didn’t think it was possible for me to dislike Nick any more than I already did, but it seems I was wrong. “This is why I am done with dating.”

“You are?” His spoon clinks against the ceramic bowl. “Why?”

“Because I’m starting to think there’s no one out there for me,” I say, and then regret it when I hear the self-pity in my voice. I play with the macaroni still in my bowl before setting it down on the counter. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so pathetic. It’s just I ran into my ex tonight.” Matthew sets his bowl down next to mine. His arms cross over his chest and he leans back, giving me his full attention. “He’s engaged.” Saying it aloud hurts. “He found someone that makes him happy, who he can see a future with. And it’s not me. I wasn’t the right girl for him, but she is. Maybe I’m no one’s right girl.”

“That’s ridiculous. You are absolutely someone’s right girl. Brains, beauty, wit, and sex with you is absolutely mind-blowing.” The words fly out of his mouth. He even uses hand motions to signify a bomb going off in his head. The red that instantly begins to stain his face spreads all the way over to my own burning cheeks. My stomach even gives way to a few flutters. Why couldn’t I have met this guy under different circumstances?

“What about you?” I ask, moving the conversation along before it gets any more uncomfortable. “Are you dating anyone?” I can only assume the answer is no, since he brought me back to his place for some more “mind-blowing” sex.

“Not really.” His head rocks from side to side. “Although, I did kind of go on a date tonight.”

“Tonight?” My eyes snap up to meet his and the uncontrollable claws all women are born with instinctively come out. “What happened? It didn’t work out, or was I just the easy mark you were fortunate enough to stumble on after the good girl went home?” I can’t stop myself from meowing the words out like a catty bitch.

“Whoa. I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I just said that. It wasn’t like that at all.” He waves his hands and shakes his head. “It was Jeremy, the guy at the pizza place. The short guy, with the beard.”

“Wait… what?” What is he trying to tell me? My eyes dart around the kitchen. I don’t know where to look.

“It was nothing like that, it was just a
big
misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, sounds like it was a big one.”

“Well, misunderstandings are my specialty,” he says, raising a brow. I know he means this in a way that implies more than just Jeremy. He’s also talking about us.

“But I guess you cleared everything up because you were at the pizza place together.”

“We did. Fortunately, we were able to move right past it.”

“That’s awesome. Most guys would probably freak out over something like that.”

“It was just a kiss.” He waves it off.

“A kiss?” I clear my throat.

“Oh, um, yeah. There was a kiss.” He tenses but then relaxes, breaking into a grin that reaches all the way up to give a sparkle to his light eyes. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

He is.

He
totally
is.

“Um, maybe we should figure out the sleeping arrangements,” I say quickly, before the lust-induced heat rising to my face starts to deceive me. “I’m thinking your couch would be a comfy spot for me to crash.”

“No, you take my bed and I’ll sleep out here.”

“I’m not taking your bed. The couch is fine.” Now that my belly is filled with the proper hangover food, my eyes are getting heavy. “I just need a blanket and a pillow,” I say through a yawn.

He opens a closet and pulls out a pile of bedding and a pillow. I stand back and watch as he transforms his couch into a bed. Sheet on the bottom, tucked in neatly, a warm blanket next, with a fluffy comforter on top. He fluffs the pillow, places it down, and pulls the arranged bedding back in a neat little triangle.

“Wow, turndown service. I’ll have to make sure to leave a five-star review on Yelp.” I slip into the comfy makeshift bed and adjust the pillow. “No mint?”

“I think I have Tic Tacs,” he says. I have no freaking clue if he’s serious or not, so I just laugh and roll over on my side before he goes in search of Tic Tacs.

“Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Holly.”

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course. I’m….” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I don’t say anything and after a few seconds I hear his footsteps walking down his hall and the sound of water running for a shower of his own.

I’m stranded in a strange guy’s apartment. One I’ve already made the mistake of sleeping with once, and almost repeated that same mistake with again only two hours ago. This is a strange circumstance to be in. But I’m oddly comfortable.

Even though it probably shouldn’t, sleep comes easy.

“WHAT IS PLANKTON?”

“What is Toronto?”

“Who is James Earl Jones?”

The Daily Double pops up.

“Okay, okay. Don’t answer this one. Give me a chance, I think I know this.” Holly sits next to me on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest, my t-shirt stretched over her bare legs. It’s entrancing, the adorable way she plays with her socks, pulling them up and scrunching them back down while she watches.

“Go ahead.”

“What is… calcium?” she says. Wrong. The answer is copper. The contestant also guesses calcium and gets it wrong. She looks at me and rolls her eyes, waiting for my answer.

“What is copper?” Alex Trebek and I both say at the same time.

“Did you watch this one already?” Her eyes narrow, her lips twisting into a suspicious grin.

“This one is new. I swear.” I place a hand on my heart and raise the other one up in oath.

We woke up to at least a foot of snow keeping us trapped inside. The world outside my window is a giant blanket of white. So far this morning, we’ve cooked breakfast together, played rummy, watched three episodes of
Jeopardy!
, and did this thing on her phone where we swapped faces. The forecast still calls for four to six more inches. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for even more.

Holly presses the buttons on my remote, bringing up my recorded shows on the screen. “I love that your entire DVR is filled with episodes of
Jeopardy!
and a documentary on the Ming Dynasty. Gee, nerd much?”

“Holly.” She turns her head to face me. “I nerd all the time,” I deadpan.

A bright burst of laughter fills my apartment. Holly laughs often and I love it. She’s positive, silly, and fun to be around. Her happiness is infectious, and I know, because I’ve caught it. A smile of my own stretches clear across my face.

“If I checked your DVR, what would I find? Or are you a Hulu person?” I prop my hands behind my head and rest my feet up on the coffee table.

“Netflix. But I also have a DVR filled with shows. And I bet you couldn’t name one of my shows.”

“
Cake Wars
.” I take a stab in the dark.

“Wow. You really do know everything.” She throws her hands up in defeat. “What made you say that show?”

“Lucky guess, that’s all. The girl who did my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding cake was just on it a few weeks ago and my family can’t stop yapping about it.”

“Shut up. Which one? What was the theme? I probably saw it.”

“It was a summer camp theme and a piece of a log cabin broke off the top of her cake when they were moving it.”

“Oh my God, yes, I saw it. And she would have totally won if that hadn’t happened. But she was a good sport about it.”

“She was. I think Ashley took it worse.”

“Ashley? Is that your sister-in-law?”

“Yes, she’s married to my brother Patrick.” My old coffee pot loudly gurgles out the last few drips, ending with a final sputter. Columbian Dark Roast permeates throughout my apartment, luring me into the kitchen with Holly in tow. “They have six kids, all girls.”

“You have six nieces?”

“Seven. My brother Kent and his wife, Robin, have a little girl too.”

I fill two mugs and hand one over. Holly wraps both hands around the ceramic mug pulling it up to her nose for a big sniff. “That explains it.”

“Hmm?” I bring my mug to my lips and sip.

“The Shopkin thing.”

“Oh, yeah, Shopkins. My nieces are into them. I just couldn’t….” I take a gulp from my mug. Hot coffee scalds my throat.

“You just couldn’t mention your nieces because you didn’t know if my real date had nieces or not,” she finishes for me, and I nod. That night will haunt me forever. She places her mug on the counter and rests her hand on her hip. “Matthew, you can stop chugging hot coffee. It’s over, we’re moving on.” She steps up on her toes to fix a piece of my hair, and I catch the faint scent of my shampoo in her hair.

“I regret that night.” My throat is raw and my words come out ragged. She raises a brow. “No, I don’t regret
that
part of the night, just the other part,” I choke out. I need to start thinking before I speak. The more I’m around her, the worse I’m getting. It’s because I like her. I like her a lot. And liking her is turning me into an imbecile.