With Strings Attached (31 page)

In love with him.

Her head went a little light and the room gave a small spin around her. She lifted a hand to her forehead.

“Corey,” Matt said, his voice hoarse. “Are you going with him?”

She moved her head slowly from side to side, frowning. “No. Of course not.”

His hands curled up and released at his sides. “Why not?”

“Because…I can’t leave.” She made a face. “I have a business here. This is my home.”

“Are you…okay? You look…upset.”

“Upset?” She tried to focus but her mind was whirling all over the place. Remembering yesterday when Matt had tried to protect her. From her own father, as it had turned out, but still. He’d been all pissed-off male, protective and strong. And then he’d come with her to talk to her dad. She’d wanted him there. Hadn’t wanted to do it alone.

He did so much for her. He was always there for her. Like no one else had ever been in her life.

She didn’t let herself get that reliant on people because people always let her down. Her mother. Her father. Her foster parents. Every guy she’d ever thought she cared about. She didn’t want to need anyone. Loving someone was the worst kind of needing, the kind that got you kicked in the teeth. But at that moment she realized how very, very much she needed Matt.

The idea filled her with terror. Was that why she’d gotten so angry with him? As a defense mechanism? How could she have come to rely on someone so much? What the fuck was wrong with her? She closed her eyes against the icy wave of fear that swept through her. Jesus. Her heart leaped into her throat and a sick feeling churned to life in her stomach. She tried to swallow.

Matt moved toward her, concern darkening his amber eyes. “Corey? Are you okay?”

She couldn’t get words past the constriction in her throat. She stared at him. His face was so beautiful—his strong jaw, shadowed with stubble, his high cheekbones, his straight perfect nose. Her gaze moved over his long eyelashes framing those eyes, the color of a rich dark ale, his tousled brown hair. He stopped right in front of her.

“Are you that upset about Dylan leaving?” he asked in a low voice.

She continued to gaze at him, her senses full of him, the heat from his body, the spicy-herbal scent of his shower gel, the warm male smell of his skin. His question confused her. “What? No.”

“Then what’s wrong? Are you still that mad at me?”

“I…I…” How could she tell him? She couldn’t tell him. She didn’t even want to admit to herself what an idiot she’d been. They’d had an agreement. No relationship. No strings attached. Just friends. And she’d gone and fallen in love.

Which meant they were done. How could you be friends with benefits when one of the friends was in love and the other wasn’t? She dropped her gaze to the floor, studying the stripes of the hardwood floor. A heavy ache filled her, her throat burning, her chest squeezing painfully. She had to get out of there before she burst into tears and said something embarrassing.

“I have to go,” she said, her voice sounding strangled. “I have to…go.”

She grabbed her purse and headed blindly for the door. Oh shit. She had no car there.

Dylan appeared then, a bag slung over one shoulder, pulling a big suitcase on wheels behind him. “I’m ready,” he announced. “Better get going so I don’t miss my flight. Traffic on the four-oh-five could be crazy.”

He looked back and forth between her and Matt and lifted an eyebrow.

“Dylan,” she said desperately. “Can you drive me home? It’s not far out of your way.”

“Sure. No prob, babe. You ready?”

“Yes.” She didn’t look at Matt.

“Corey, wait,” he said. “I can…”

“That’s okay,” she gasped, backing out his front door. “Dylan’s leaving now anyway… I’ll wait…outside.” She slipped out the door and stood on the small front porch, holding onto the railing with both hands as her heart thudded wildly and her eyes stung. She took short, shallow breaths, her body so tight she couldn’t expand her lungs to breathe deeper, her mouth quivering.

She bowed her head for a moment, then released the railing and stumbled down the front steps to Dylan’s rental car sitting on the street in front of the house. She leaned against the locked vehicle, the metal hot against her skin, waiting for Dylan to say goodbye to Matt and come out of the house.

When he did, his eyes were bright and his mouth was grim. He used the remote to unlock the car, and she slid into the passenger seat, staring at her knees, not wanting to look at the house to see if Matt had come out too. Dylan hefted his bags into the trunk, slammed it down and then joined her in the car. He shot her a sideways look.

“You okay?”

She bent her head so her hair fell forward. “No.”

“For Chrissake, Corey. Tell him.”

She shook her head, unable to speak. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Corey. He’s nuts about you too. Anyone can see it.”

Her head whipped up to glare at him. “Well, he’d better get over it then, because I don’t do relationships. I’m not going to let myself get let down again. Never again. Please just take me home.”

Dylan looked at her for a moment, then started the car and did as she’d asked.

In front of her building, they looked at each other. She smiled. “Sorry for all the drama,” she said, a little more controlled. “You get back to the tour and talk to a shrink and get your head together so you win that next competition, okay?”

He smiled, too, a sad smile, his eyes crinkled, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “Yes, ma’am.”

She leaned across for a quick hug, then climbed out before she got all emotional again. She stood there and watched him drive away, lifted her hand in a wave, then dropped it to her side as another swell of despair swept over her.

With shaky hands she unlocked her door and let herself in, closed and locked the door behind her, and leaned back against it. Hell. Now what was she going to do?

Somehow she was going to have to end things with Matt.

Chapter Twenty-One

Later that afternoon Matt arrived at his mother’s home for the family dinner she’d planned so her children could get to know her new boyfriend. Boyfriend. Matt scowled as he walked up to the front door. It didn’t seem right to call a fifty-something-year-old man a boyfriend. A gentleman friend. Lover? Bah.

He recognized that he wasn’t exactly in a good mood, certainly not the right frame of mind for a family gathering, and definitely not quality time with his mother’s boyfriend.

He opened the door and stepped into the foyer, immediately the chatter of female voices assaulting his ears. He followed the sound down the hall to the kitchen at the back of the house, part of a great room, the place where everyone always gathered at his mom’s home.

The sound of female voices was familiar to him. He’d grown up surrounded by it, with two sisters and his mom. After his dad had died, his had been the lone male voice in the house. With Jenna’s husband being in the Navy and gone for long periods of time and Neve still being single, it had remained a largely female family.

Now, Corwin was there. When Matt walked into the spacious, light-filled room, Corwin sat on a stool at the large granite-topped island, smiling as the girls all yakked away. Jenna’s kids sat in front of the television across the room, watching what appeared to be a Disney movie, but when they saw him, they jumped to their feet and ran at him, tackling his legs.

“Hey, rug rats,” he said. “What kind of trouble are you into today?” He bent and hugged them.

“Uncle Matt! I’m not in trouble,” Emma said. “I’m never in trouble.”

“Yes, you are,” Bryson said, pushing her aside. “Yesterday you broke Mom’s cell phone.”

“Oh, be quiet,” she said, tossing her five-year-old head with feminine disdain. “
I
never flushed her contact lenses down the toilet.”

She’d never let Bryson forget that incident. Even Bryson couldn’t explain why he’d done that. Just curious. Matt grinned at his nephew. He’d help him learn how to deal with women.

Not that he himself was so good at it. Pain stabbed his chest, remembering how broken up Corey’d been about Dylan leaving. He closed his eyes briefly.

After they’d driven off together, he’d sat on his couch, paralyzed, frozen with fear. The image of them leaving together was burned into his brain, and made him think crazy things like Corey not getting out of the car, just sitting there all the way to San Diego and getting on the plane with Dylan.

It was crazy, he knew it, she couldn’t pick up and leave like that, and she’d already said she wasn’t going with him, but still…fear twisted his guts into knots. She’d seemed so heartbroken, so disturbed by it. It killed him, it just fucking killed him. And then she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

He’d known it was the end of their friendship.

She was in love with another man. Sure, they’d all slept together, in a crazy kind of compromise. But now Dylan was gone, he knew… Corey was never going to sleep with him again.

Just friends. A knife twisted in his gut. But wasn’t that exactly what he’d wanted from her?

“Hey, Matt,” Jenna said, breaking him out of his painful thoughts. “Come on in. Want a beer?”

“Hell yeah.” He gave the kids a little push back to the television, and they scampered back to their places on Grandma’s big comfy couch.

“They love you so much,” Jenna said, looking at him affectionately. “Do you think you could look after them next week one evening?”

“Do you really need me to?” he asked, accepting the beer.

She gave him a funny look. “Well, I wouldn’t mind an evening to go do a few errands, but mostly they just like to see you.”

“Oh. Okay, sure.”

He headed to the island where Corwin sat, shook hands with the man, kissed his mom’s cheek, then drank his beer. He held it up and nodded approvingly. One of his. The Riptide Red.

Jenna grinned. “You think we’d drink anything else?”

He forced a smile. “Damn well better not.”

He glanced at Neve, also sitting on one of the stools at the island, leaning her elbows on the counter. She gave him an appraising look and he frowned. “What?” he growled, running a hand through his hair.

“You look like shit,” she said. “Even more than you did last night.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“What was last night?” Jenna asked, dipping a cracker into some kind of dip.

“The Surf Sisters had a party,” Neve said. “We ran into each other there. He was all gnarly and snarly.”

“I was not.”

Neve grinned. He caught a look of concern on his mom’s face. “She’s making stuff up,” he told his mom. “I’m fine.”

Mom nodded and gave a cautious smile. Conversation bounced around from the party last night, to the city election that was coming up, to news from Jenna’s husband. While they all talked, Mom checked the roast in the oven, peeled potatoes and trimmed some green beans.

“Where’s Corey?” she asked as they were preparing to sit down to eat. “You could have brought her.”

Yeah, he’d often brought Corey along to family gatherings. He’d always had the feeling she enjoyed being with his big family, since she didn’t have much of a family of her own, and he liked giving her that.

“And Dylan,” Mom added. “Where’s he?”

“He’s gone,” Matt said shortly, snapping out his napkin. “His foot’s better so he’s headed to France for the next competition.”

“He is so hot,” Neve said dreamily. “A super-hot surfer dude. Too bad Corey snapped him up first.”

“She didn’t snap him up,” Matt snarled.

She blinked innocently at him. “Oh really? I thought they were having a little fling while he was here. That’s what she said.”

He scowled. “When did you talk to her?”

“Last night. At the party. I told you that.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He took the platter of roast beef from Corwin on his left and stared at it.

“Oh, my,” Mom said. “Corey and Dylan? Uh…” Matt caught that worried glance she sent Neve and Jenna. His insides tightened even more. He stabbed a piece of meat and tossed it onto his plate.

“So he’s gone,” Neve continued. “Poor Corey.”

Anger bubbled up inside him but he said nothing, merely pressed his lips together and took the bowl of green beans. He hated green beans. He passed them on without taking any.

“Matthew, eat some beans,” his mom said.

He leveled a look at her. “No, thanks.”

She blinked.

“She told me Dylan asked her to go with him,” Neve continued. “Is she going to go?”

Matt clenched his hands into fists and stared at his plate.

“They kind of make a cute couple,” she continued.

Something burst inside him, something hot and painful. He shoved back his chair, the legs squeaking along the wood floor, balled his napkin up and tossed it down. He stood there for a few seconds, chest heaving. “I gotta go,” he said.

He headed to the door, leaving a shocked silence in the room. But as he reached the front door, a hand grabbed his arm. “Wait, Matt.”

He turned to look down at Neve who’d come after him. His eyes were burning, his stomach was churning and he scowled at her. “What?”