One Blazing Night (14 page)

“Hold on. I— Hold on.” She pressed a button on her phone. “Yes?”

Her voice was a little sharp, which he understood. “If you need to go to the lab, that's fine. I've actually got a few hours' worth of work to do before the board meeting tomorrow. We can meet up later.”

“I don't know. We were going to have breakfast and—”

“We'll still have breakfast. Then I was planning to kick you out anyway, so you might as well go into work.”

She just looked at him.

He knew she could see through part of his lie. They'd already talked about spending the day together. But he could've just remembered he had something to do before the board meeting. He didn't, but this way, she wouldn't feel guilty.

“Fine.” She pressed another button on her phone. “I'll be there in an hour.”

Matt started whisking the batter, satisfied he'd done the right thing, even though it felt like hell to give up a whole day alone with Sam. He'd wanted that. Badly.

The light had turned green on the waffle iron, so he poured the first batch. It was an odd machine. Much thinner than the kind that made the Belgian waffles he was used to. But it looked foolproof.

He glanced at her again. “Why don't you go change while this is cooking?”

She looked sad but nodded.

“I'll have your waffles and coffee waiting for you,” he said, keeping his tone light when all he wanted to do was throw everything at the wall.

She smiled. Took his face between her hands and kissed him soundly.

He put an arm around her. A mistake, for sure. Because now he didn't want to let her go. But he did and then watched her hurry from the room.

The food was ready by the time she returned. From the damp ends of her hair, he could tell she'd taken a very short shower. Dammit, he'd wanted to take a long one with her.

She took a stick of butter, the maple syrup and the whole plateful of waffles to the counter by the stools.

“Huh.” He'd planned on sharing, but he guessed he'd have to make his own.

“This is delicious,” she said through her mouthful. “Better than the mix in the pantry.”

Well, shit.
“There was a mix?”

* * *

A
N
HOUR
LATER
Matt was watching a movie on HBO when his dad called. “Hey, Dad.”

“Good afternoon, Matthew.”

“You sound cheerful.”

“Do I? Well, that must be because it looks as if we've got a lock on that London job of yours. Truit is still a holdout, but we don't need that old windbag anyway. I don't expect any surprises, but I won't say congratulations yet.”

Matt should have been on his feet doing a fist pump, excited as hell. “That's fantastic, Dad. How'd you get Bannister and Lee on board?”

His father went into all the details, and Matt had to force himself to pay attention. It wasn't meant to feel like this. All the effort, the planning, the hours spent. Now taking over the London office had lost its luster. No, that wasn't exactly true. He welcomed the challenge. Or would have if it didn't put this thing between him and Sam into the dead file.

“What? No, I'm excited. I am. I just don't want to go overboard until the votes are in, that's all.”

His father agreed that was smart. They talked a few more minutes and then said their goodbyes.

The movie was no longer of interest to Matt, and sitting there with nothing to do but think was out of the question. He paced to the window, smiling as the floor tiles lit up with each footfall. Sam had an amazing imagination. No wonder she was slammed with orders. And as far as he knew, the apartment's innovations weren't actually on the market yet.

Goddammit. He ran his hands over his face. Was he ever going to be able to stop thinking about her? The mess he'd created was growing by leaps and bounds inside his head. Sticking around would just make him crazy.

There was only one thing he could do right now that might help. For a split second he experienced a prick of fear that he was reverting to his old destructive habits. But no, this was about needing some release. A workout was better than downing half a bottle of scotch.

Carrick was at the Southie gym when Matt showed up. But since it was a Sunday, there were fewer boxers around. He'd make do with the bags, but that wasn't what he wanted.

“What are you doing here, son?” Matt noticed the older man was walking with a slight limp. He'd missed that last week.

“Looking for some ring time.”

“I might be able to fit you in. Hank,” he called out, “put Matt's name on the big board, will ya? See who wants in.”

Someone from the benches on the other side of the ring called out, “Hey, pretty boy. We still got to be careful around your ugly mug?”

It was tempting to throw caution to the wind and just go for broke, but he still had to meet with the board. “Yep, watch the face. But everything else is fair game.”

He didn't care about the taunting. While it should have felt good to realize he wasn't a completely reckless kid anymore, all it did was make him feel...sad.

14

H
ER
CELL
PHONE
RANG
. It was Matt. Foolish of her to give him his own ringtone when he'd be gone soon.

Not a good thing to think about now.

She checked the time. Damn, she was already ten minutes late meeting him. “Hey.”

“Hi. Listen, I'm heading your way. Should be there in under five minutes. Sorry.”

“Don't apologize. I'm going to be even later. Anyway, I didn't mean for us to meet here. I meant the apartment. But I'm not done my work, and there's no way to put it off.”

“Oh,” Matt said, his voice dipping.

She knew she shouldn't feel so pleased that she'd disappointed him, but it was reassuring. “I'm probably going to be another hour. I can't imagine it taking much longer than that.”

“Tell you what. Since I'm already close, why don't I come by the lab? I can amuse myself while you work. I promise not to bother you.”

Clark would freak out. There was no way. “I'll go you one better,” she said. “You know my house is behind the lab, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll have Tina dash over there and turn off the alarm system and leave it unlocked. It's still a mess, but it's more comfortable than here. I've got a lot of stuff to play with. You'll have a good time.”

“The only thing I want to play with is you.”

Sam pressed her lips together. “Stop it,” she said, glancing around as if someone could've heard him. “And don't be afraid to touch the games. I break things regularly. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, wait. If you do break something? Write down what you did, okay? I want to see if I can duplicate it, then create a fix.”

“You're such a geek.”

She grinned for the first time since she'd left him that morning. “I know.”

After she put her cell phone back at the edge of her work space, she felt Clark's censure without having to look. He'd been grumpy all day. She couldn't complain about it. This was taking up his Sunday, too.

And Coulson, the prick, had been completely irrational about moving the deadline. Goddamn newbie. She was doing him a favor by even taking the contract. In her field, compromises were part of the landscape. There were too many unknowns to commit to anything hard and fast. It should have been a piece of cake. The upstairs crew were handling most of it on their own. But there'd been a problem with the power source that only Sam could fix.

She was almost there. In fact, with a few more adjustments, she'd be able to run the 3-D simulation and make sure everything worked as planned.

Then she'd get to see Matt. Though any time she got with him was now bittersweet, it was still more exciting than anything else in her life. Because it had an expiration date? Maybe. That was a better theory than the other—that she was completely, hopelessly in love.

* * *

M
ATT
HAD
A
bruise on his chin that he hadn't had that morning. It begged a lot of questions. Sam would ask, but she didn't wake him. Not yet.

She'd been later than she'd hoped, so it wasn't a surprise he'd crashed. She liked watching him sleep, just as she had all those years ago on her sixteenth birthday. He looked comfortable on her ugly old couch. Friends had hinted that she might want to think about getting a sofa that didn't look like something she'd found in a back alley. It was years out of date, but she didn't care. The leather was worn in just the right places and it was perfect for watching TV or gaming. As if she had the time to do either.

“Hey,” he said, in a croak that made something tug in her chest.

“Hey. Sorry I was late.”

“It's okay. It stinks that you had to work.” He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. But he hissed in a breath at the move and winced for a good two seconds.

“What happened?” she asked.

“What?”

Sam pushed back the coffee table to give her room so she could sit down in front of him. “That bruise on your chin. The way you're moving. Were you in an accident?”

“No.”

“What, then?”

“I was working out. At a gym.”

“Did you get into a fight over a machine or something?”

Matt chuckled. “I was sparring.”

“You mean how boxers spar?” Sam was almost afraid to touch him. “Because I don't think you're supposed to get hurt sparring.”

“It's not so bad. You should see the other guy.”

“That isn't funny.”

“No, I'm serious. Juan looks a lot worse than me.” He laughed, but the wince came back and he touched his ribs.

Sam reached over, lifted his blue henley and saw another couple of bruises right where he'd touched. “What the hell, Matt?”

“Look, I can explain.”

“Yeah, well, do that, please, while I get you some ice. Since when do you box?”

“It's a great workout, I swear. I've been doing it since college.”

She pulled out a bag of frozen peas and two bottles of beer from the fridge. “I remember you occasionally had bruises, but you always gave excuses for them. I just thought you were clumsy. Why didn't you say?”

He applied the peas. “I didn't want you guys to know.” With his free hand, he took a swig of beer. “It was a great way to get rid of pent-up energy. Punching the bag, then punching a sparring partner. I got into some mixed martial arts, too, and then, senior year, I did a little street fighting but quit fast. Too brutal for me. And my grades started slipping.”

“Logan and Rick didn't know?”

“Logan figured it out. Gave me a hell of a lecture. But I never understood why. It's a completely legit sport. Boxing, not the street fighting. Hell, he was into martial arts himself and going to the firing range... It doesn't matter. It's a sport, that's all. This afternoon I went to my old gym. Just to say hi to the guys.”

“That's some ‘hi.'” She looked pointedly at his chin.

“Complete accident. The helmet slipped.”

“What happened to your ribs?” she asked. “Did your parents know?”

“Jesus. No. Not then and not now.”

Sam wondered why he hadn't been at the apartment working, as he'd said he'd be, but she didn't want to ask. “I don't have to worry about you, do I?”

“Yeah, but not about the boxing,” he said, his voice taking on a mischievous tone. “What you should be concerned about is the fact that we haven't kissed once since you got home.”

He leaned forward and she met him halfway, welcoming the feel of his lips on hers, his woodsy scent. But he pulled away too quickly for her liking.

“Come over here with me.” He patted a spot on the couch. “I love your place, by the way. It's totally you. The mantel with your action figures. Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Hermione Granger... Jean Grey from
X-Men
? I didn't know they had one for her.”

“They didn't. I had it made for me. But now that I have a 3-D printer, I can make my own.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Also? This couch is supercomfortable.”

“Exactly,” she said, more emphatically than necessary. “Wait right there. I'll be back in a sec. And points to you for knowing who everyone was on the mantel.”

Sam hurried to her bathroom, where she found a big Ace wrap and a tube of arnica gel. He smiled at her return, causing a tingle to skitter all the way down her body.

It felt both odd and intimate to be patching him up. Rubbing the ointment over his taut skin, then wrapping his chest, despite his protests.

“I look ridiculous.”

“You deserve it. Boxing. I'll never understand it.”

“It helps me let off steam.” He gripped her chin in his hand and pulled her into the first really good kiss since their morning had been interrupted. He teased her lower lip with the edge of his top teeth, then traced over the same part with his tongue. When Sam thought of all the men who'd kissed her, and there weren't that many, Matt was in a class by himself. He made her nipples hard without even touching them, her thighs squeeze together with the flick of his tongue against hers. When her hand ventured up his thigh, she let him know it wasn't a one-way dialogue.

When they came up for air, Matt was breathing hard and smiling. “I'm so glad you're home.” He grabbed his beer and leaned back, bringing her with him.

“Wait,” she said when something poked her in the butt. “What's...?” Sam found a picture frame that had been wedged behind the sofa cushion. “This is us.”

“I found it on your mantel, too. Jesus, we were young.”

“I was fifteen when this was taken.” She smiled at the images of Logan and Rick. “And you guys. Wow. I continue to be amazed that three such astonishingly hot guys were my protectors.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Except back then I was such a geek I didn't know Logan and Rick were hot. But don't tell them that.”

“You didn't mention me. Does that mean...?” Matt's eyebrows were raised and he was grinning.

“Shut up.” She smiled and studied the picture, thinking about what Kensey had shared with her about Matt covering the rent. Sam wished so much that she could thank him but she'd given her word. “You really were the best thing that could have happened to me back then. And after, when you took off to become a lawyer, Clark swooped in and he was just as kind.”

Matt took the picture from her and studied it, his smile melting into something else entirely. “I owe you a long-overdue apology.”

“For not telling me about the boxing?”

“No,” he said, meeting her gaze. “For the night you turned sixteen.”

Heat spread through her like a wildfire. Of course she knew exactly what he was talking about. She could still see him so clearly, standing at her bedroom door, his hair rumpled, a lock falling across his forehead.

He'd been at a party that night but rushed back to the dorm just past midnight. She'd been working late, unaware of the time. He told her he wanted to be the first to kiss her happy birthday. As if there would be a line.

That night had been monumental to her. She'd already had a crush on him, but when he kissed her, she was a goner. She knew he'd simply intended to give her an innocent peck on the lips. But it hadn't ended there. And it was all her doing. She'd pressed closer. Probably the bravest thing she'd ever done until that point. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it hadn't bothered her. Before then, she'd hated the scent of beer, but she'd grown to love it over the years, starting with that night.

The kiss had gone on a little bit longer, but when she'd parted her lips, he'd pulled away.

“I should never have gone to see you when I was drunk,” he said.

“It was sweet. I had such a massive crush on you.”

“I know.”

“What? How did you know?”

“You'd just turned sixteen. You weren't yet versed in the game. You were brilliant and also transparent. That's what made what I did inexcusable. I didn't realize I was being a tease. I let the alcohol take over whatever sense I had.”

“But I wanted it. I was thrilled you'd kissed me.”

“Thrilled? When I pulled back, you immediately thought you'd done something wrong. You begged me to try again, to teach you how to kiss me the way you should. You were so convinced you'd screwed things up, when you'd done nothing wrong. I felt like such a shit.”

Sam shook her head, not remembering any part of what he'd described. “Are you sure this is me you're talking about? I didn't do any of that.” Her heart was thumping so hard she wondered if he could hear it. “Like you said, you were drunk. Maybe you don't remember correctly.”

“I wish...” He hung his head. “Evidently, being a prick sobered me up some. So sorry, Sammy. I think you might've rewritten some of that night. I can't say I blame you. Then I made everything worse by falling asleep on your bed. Probably snored up a storm. And dammit, you were just a kid. I had no business being in your room at all.”

“I'll have to trust that you're telling me the truth about what I did.”

“You don't recall me holding your hand while I sat next to you?”

She nodded. He'd been so sweet. He'd told her she was young but he liked her anyway.

“I told you that it was wrong that I'd kissed you. That you were too young, and then I asked you not to tell anyone. I made you promise to keep it from Logan and Rick. Do you remember that part?”

“Perfectly,” she said. His recollection of that night's events surprised her. She'd never felt resentful, and she didn't now. Maybe a little sad that he'd spoiled her memories. She smiled, wanting him to believe that she didn't hold him responsible for anything, even what happened afterward. “I must have blocked most of it out. All my recollections of that night have been ridiculously happy.”

“Maybe, but you remember something else, don't you?” He watched her closely, waiting, the regret in his eyes painful for her to see.

“It's nothing. It's just—when you begged me to keep it a secret, I thought it was because you were ashamed of being with me. After that you hardly talked to me—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, taking her hand. “I was ashamed of myself, not you. And I didn't want to get my ass kicked by Logan and Rick.”

“I can see that now.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Oh, my God, is that why you took up boxing? In case Logan and—”

With a laugh, Matt brought her hand up for a quick kiss. “No, I'd already been going to the gym by then. But I admit I purposely kept my distance from you after that.” He looked into her eyes with a sincerity that brought a lump to her throat. “I hope I haven't opened old wounds by filling in the blanks for you. I'm not sure I would've said anything if I had known that you remembered the night so fondly, but I'm sorry for that, too. Please forgive me, Sam.”