When Joss Met Matt (25 page)

“Go to hell,” I gasped, but got out of the elevator with my toes curled inside my shoes.

“Always works,” he said.

A quartet of invisible giants was pressing on my chest from all sides. I tried to look around without seeing the windows, but it was impossible. The observation deck was glaringly white and filled with people wearing headphones. None of them were Matt.

He's not here. He left. He was lying just to get away from you. You came up here for nothing. He's not here. Whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell?

I found an interior wall to press my back to, breath now coming out in audible sobs. My vision was covered over in spots and my legs grew weaker with each second. I needed to sit down, but I couldn't move.

“Joss?” Matt's tone was pure wonder.

I turned my head with cogwheel movements.

“What are you doing up here?” he demanded.

“Trying not to throw up,” I said. “Or faint.”

His jaw clenched as he looked over his shoulder at the elevators. “You have to go.”

“No, please!” I said it too loudly, but almost everyone had headphones. “I really need to talk to you.”

“You need to go back down,” he said. His eyes were dark—anger? My heart clutched in my chest.

“Please, Matt.”

“Fine.” He stretched out to grab my wrist and pulled me to the nearly empty queue of people waiting to go down again. Moving made me feel like I might slip through the glass and plummet to the ground. I knew it was insane, but I couldn't shake the image. I squeezed my eyes shut, colliding with him when he stopped. My bag thumped against my back and my eyes popped open. “You have until the elevator gets here to talk,” he said.

“Really?” My voice cracked on the word.

He tilted his head back, eyes rolling. “Yes. Go.”

All over my body my muscles received messages to sag or contract, my brain was a mess. I tried to catch my breath, but it was pointless. “I hate that you're not talking to me.”

He sighed. “What is there to say?”

I tried to focus on his face, to not see the panorama through the windows. It helped a little. “You came to my apartment because you wanted to talk a few weeks ago. There's got to be something to say.”

“Yeah, well, that was when I thought you'd be alone.”

“I am.” I hated the desperate sound of my voice and that my hands scrabbled at his shirt sleeves. “Are you?”

He nodded.

My panic was more manageable as long as I kept my eyes trained on him. I must have looked manic. “I have something to say, if you'll listen.”

His mouth tightened into a line. “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath, trying to control the shaking in my voice. “The thing is … I love you.”

He stiffened and leaned away from me. “Love me like a friend?”

“No.” My knees had gone watery again. “Love you, like, I'm in love with you. And I wanted you to know that before you move away.”

His stiff posture broke and he looked up at the ceiling. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.” I shook my head. Behind me, I heard the soft ding that announced the arrival of the elevator. Tingles raced up my spine. “I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but I thought you should know the truth. I don't expect you to do anything about it …”

“Jocelyn—stop talking.”

I flinched. Even with all the reactions I'd rehearsed in my mind, this one took me by surprise. “Sorry,” I said again.

He shook his head with a clenched jaw that told me he was fighting to stay calm. Behind me, the queue shuffled toward the elevator. I heard the tiny sound of his knuckles popping as he curled his fingers in. He was perfectly still except for the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed oh-so deliberately.

My heart was a mad thing beating against its cage. “Matt … please … just look at me.”

The moment his dark brown eyes, usually warm, lowered to mine I thought of a storm cloud. Tears burned my eyes. I had never imagined he would be angry.

Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders and drove me back toward the open elevator. I stumbled, my mind an instant hurricane. I just needed another minute. “Wait, wait, wait!”

And then he was in the elevator with me, and still pushing me back and back until I was up against the wall and then his mouth was on mine and the other passengers on the elevator murmured indignantly. But it didn't matter because he was kissing me and it was Matt and the doors closed and my stomach dropped as we started the controlled fall into that thousand-foot well, but I didn't even think about it because Matt Lehrer was kissing me in broad daylight, in public and it was Matt and me against the wall and he was kissing me at last.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Now

My hands were pinned at my sides, fingers splayed in a startle reflex. My heart threatened mutiny. He grew frustrated with trying to get a tight enough hold around my arms and my big leather bag, so he hooked his elbow behind my neck. His other hand found my waist. All the while, we shared the kind of kiss that I'd only seen in movies.

Distantly, I heard the uncomfortable shifting of feet and a few people cleared their throats. I didn't care. Matt was kissing the fear right out of me, and I didn't want him to stop for anything.

When at last he released me, he cupped my jaw in his hands and looked me in the eyes. “Don't you ever say you're sorry for that again, you got it?”

“Matty, what—?”

“I love you, too. That's what I was trying to tell you that night we had dinner. We can't keep up this Sorbet bullshit anymore because I fell in love with you.”

The river of adrenaline flowing through my veins ran dry and I sagged against the wall. My bag slid down my arm and dropped to the floor. Tears spilled down my cheeks at last. “Really?”

He nodded. Someone in the elevator coughed again. I still didn't care.

“And I …” I mimed running with two fingers.

“Yeah.”

“Oh God.” I covered my face with one hand. My ears popped, but the sensation of the slow fall was all but gone. I couldn't feel anything but the places our bodies touched.

“Yeah.”

“I'm sorry.” My mind sorted through memories like a librarian on crack. “You weren't exactly up front about it!” I dug my fingers into his shoulders and gave him a little shake.

“I know, I'm sorry. When you ran off, I figured you weren't interested, but then I realized you probably thought—” He shook his head. “Never mind. It was a big cluster fuck.”

The elevator announced our arrival on the ground floor with its soft electronic tone. The rest of the passengers crowded the door, and it occurred to me that we were probably the cause of their flight. I kept quiet long enough to get off the elevator and away from the outgoing tide of people. Then, I grabbed at his arm and he stopped.

“Are you really moving away?” I asked.

“Not without you.” He kissed me again. One of those amazing Matt kisses that set me on fire. When he pulled back, he checked his watch. “Everyone is probably wondering where we are, but I seriously want to take you to bed right now if you'll let me,” he said.

I considered. “I can live with that.”

He grinned. “Let's get a cab.”

In the back of a Chicago cab with a cracked vinyl seat and the sound of a Cubs game blaring from a boom box next to the driver, Matt and I made confessions and tried to keep our hands off each other, or at least keep our hands between first and second base.

“When did you know?” I asked.

“It was Jessie's wedding invitation,” he said. “I just … it just made me think. I wondered if I was going to wait until your wedding invitation showed up in my mailbox to tell you how I feel.”

“That's all it took?”

He kissed me for the length of a stoplight. “No, that was just the last straw. When did you know?”

“Not long after your dad died. But I didn't make up my mind to tell you until recently.”

“Why not?”

“I was scared.” I put my hand on his cheek. “You're one of the best friends I've ever had, Matt. If we screwed this up, I'd … I don't know if I could forgive myself.”

He nodded. “I know. We're not exactly experts at relationships.”

I laughed a little. “I'm not even sure we're amateurs.”

He kissed me. “We'll learn.”

“I was also worried that I wouldn't live up to your Sorbet Girl,” I confessed.

“What?”

“I'm not perfect.”

He burst into a loud laugh. “I know that.”

“I'm serious, Matt. The lingerie, the perfectly smooth legs … I work my ass off for you because it doesn't happen very often. I wanted to be better than whoever it was that broke your heart or made you want to break hers. But, that's not the real me—not all the time anyway.”

“I know that.”

“I'm worried that you're in love with something that isn't real.”

“Do you seriously think I only notice you when we're in bed? Give me a little credit here. I see you, Joss. I see you all the time.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose in a weak attempt to hold back tears. His unexpected vehemence overwhelmed me.

“Does that help?” he asked. “Are you still scared?”

“I'm terrified,” I confessed. “But I still want to do this. I still want to be with you, if you want to be with me.” My nose itched with unshed tears.

The driver nosed into the curb and I beat Matt to the punch. There was a twenty-dollar bill tucked into my bra, which I passed up to the driver.

“Hey!” Matt protested. “I was gonna get that.”

“Too slow.” I took my change back from the cabbie and climbed out of the car. He was right behind me and he reached for my hand as we walked into the hotel. It gave me a private thrill that hand-holding had not given me since junior high. I couldn't hide my silly grin, and he noticed. “What?”

“Nothing.” I lied out of self-preservation.

He led me toward the bank of elevators and I couldn't help groaning. “How high?” I asked.

“Second floor.”

“Thank God.”

In yet another elevator, he pressed me into the wall for a kiss again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and focused all my attention on the feel of his mouth moving against mine. He really was the best kisser I'd ever known. The car jerked to a halt and buzzed loudly to announce our arrival on the second floor.

Matt carded his way into the room, then paused on the threshold. “I probably shouldn't be looking gift horses in the mouth and all, but … seriously, Joss, are you sure? 'Cause I really don't want to wake up tomorrow and find a Post-it note on my pillow.”

“I would never do that!” I protested.

“It was a metaphor.”

“I'm really sure. I want to be with you.”

He smiled in relief and rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb.

“Besides, I always leave my Post-it notes on the bathroom mirror,” I added, looking at him from the corners of my eyes.

“Right, I forgot.” He grinned and let go of my hand to open the blackout shades. The room was small, worn, but clean, and it looked perfect to me. I dropped my bulging shoulder bag on one of the double beds while Matt emptied his pockets onto the desk.

Watching him move through his routine, I was struck once more by the combination of familiarity and newness. The lines of his body were the same, the vacant look in his eyes when he was doing something by rote was one I recognized from years of knowing him. But, I saw him with a distinct sense of ownership. Those lines, that look, that movement felt like it was part of my heart. I supposed it had been for a long time, but identifying it had been … enlightening. My own motives and actions from the last few years seemed clearer. I'd been positioning myself to be available to him as much as possible, even if I'd done it unconsciously. How utterly ridiculous not to see it before.

When he was done, he looked at me and smiled. “Hi,” he said.

Nerves trickled through me, and I giggled. “Hi.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“I'm—” I hesitated.
Go for broke
. “I'm nervous.”

He laughed and took my hands in his. “Now this is the one part you shouldn't be nervous about.”

I shivered. “It's good nervous. Like before a big game.”

“I get it.” He gathered me in and took a deep breath. “I've missed the smell of your shampoo.”

I smiled. “I'm always available for smelling.”

“When you stayed with me, after my dad died, you made my pillows smell like this.” He buried his nose in my hair. “It stayed, even after you were gone. And the sheets smelled like … summer vacation.”

“Coconut lime lotion,” I said. “I've always thought it smelled like vacation, too.”

He lifted my wrist to his nose. “Yeah, coconut … that's it.” He pressed a kiss against the pulse point before releasing my hand and goose bumps thrilled up the back of my arm.

I went on tiptoe to kiss his lips, eager for more of him. It was heady, knowing that I wasn't gathering kisses to store in my memory; that I could have more for as long as he'd let me. There was no sense of the end being just around the corner. It made for a different kind of excitement.

His hands smoothed up and down my dress, lifting the skirt with each upward movement. I loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and pushed it down his shoulders until he had to let go of me to slip it off. The warmth of his body was easier to feel through the T-shirt he wore beneath, but it was still too much separation for me. I felt his abs contract in surprise when I skimmed my fingertips over his stomach and hoisted the T-shirt over his head.

“And now, my favorite part …” he murmured, drawing my zipper down slowly, “what is Joss wearing underneath her clothes?”

I lifted my arms over my head to make it easier for him. The dress came off easily, leaving me in one of my most indulgent buys, a red lace bra that fit so well it had been worth every extravagant penny.

“Oh my God, it's red,” he breathed and looked heavenward for just a moment.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“That's good.” Starting at the hollow where my collarbones met, he anointed my skin with his lips, steering me by the hips to the bed where he could finish the job after I was laid out on the blanket. Hovering above me, he was determined to make me squirm, it seemed, but I wanted my chance, too.

I pressed on his shoulder until he relented and lay on the bed, with me kneeling over him. My hair clung to what remained of my lip gloss and I tossed my head. Matt traced the shape of my body with his hands, looking mesmerized.

“I don't think I've ever seen you like this in sunlight,” he mused. The yellow light of the afternoon sun blazed through the windows. The blackout drapes had given way to sheers that probably didn't obscure us from sight. Luckily, the glare from the sun was creating a mirror if anyone cared to look. He was right. We'd never been together before sundown. There was something honest about being naked in daylight, and I was glad we decided to risk the wrath of our friends.

I had to move to tug his pants off, and he took charge again, kissing my stomach and hips. I squirmed, unsure whether I wanted to escape the sensation or press closer and intensify it. I pushed at his waistband as best I could, but couldn't reach far. He rolled back with a grin and helped me get him down to his underwear.

“When did you switch to these?” I asked, slipping one fingertip under the waistband of his boxer briefs.

He shrugged. “I've got both. I don't know.”

“You look kinda sexy.”

He seemed pleased as he reached for me. “Come back up here.”

I complied, fitting my body to his and taking up a fresh round of openmouthed kisses. Our pace was so much slower than usual, as if we both wanted to make this time different. I rolled my hips and shifted my legs between his, discovering new sensations with each move.

“I've always loved how you can't be still,” he whispered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it's like you can't help yourself.”

“I'm just playing,” I explained. “I love the way your skin feels against mine.”

He found the clasp on my bra and set it loose, featherlight fingertips tracing the marks in my skin left by the elastic. He pulled each strap off my shoulders with such exquisite delicacy that I felt like the lace was a part of me. The tension building in my belly was tighter than any I could remember; I had never wanted someone more in my life.

I flattened my palms to the bed and pushed up enough to let my bra slip to my elbows. I freed my hands one at a time, then Matt hauled me up his body, high enough to kiss my freshly exposed skin. I was forced to brace myself above him while he used his lips and tongue to drive me to the brink of madness. The rest of my body was begging for contact and attention, attention I was reluctant to give if it meant I had to interrupt him.

In all the times we'd been together over the years, there had been little need for him to open his bag of tricks. The naughty thrill of Sorbet Sex had always been enough to get us both riled. The things he did to me that afternoon were enough to make me dizzy.

“You're driving me crazy,” I panted.

“Good.” He pushed my hips to the side and I rolled onto my back. He peeled the blanket back, and scooped me up to set me on the exposed sheets. For someone of such average size, he'd always been remarkably strong. I remembered how much it had surprised me the first time we'd been together as freshmen in college. When he had me settled to his satisfaction, I caught him by the upper arms and pulled him down to kiss me again. He dropped to one elbow, smiling against my mouth.

I could only reach his underwear with one hand, but I gave it an obvious shove in the direction of off, and looked him in the eyes. “I'm ready.”

“Just a second.” He pushed back to sit on his haunches and pressed his warm palms against my ribs. Moving down slowly, deliberately, he caught the elastic of my panties with nothing more than friction and rolled them down my hips. I rolled my hips a few times to help him free the scrap of black lace from my body. When he reached my ankles, I lifted my feet and he kissed the arch of one of them. “There's something I've always wanted to do …” he murmured and moved slowly up my body, leaving wet kisses on my knee and all along my inner thigh.

“Matt, please.…” I breathed. “I can't—I want you … please.”

He paused just long enough to press his lips into the crease where my thigh met my body. His breath grazed over my most sensitive skin and I dug my fingernails into the sheets. Deep in my pelvis, the pleasure and naked wanting was akin to pain in its intensity. I needed him.