The Making of Matt (7 page)

“I got it,” I snapped, before quickly picking up the piece of glass that was stained with my blood.

“Fine,” Matt said, holding up his hands in the air. “No need to go all Norman Bates on my ass. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” I replied in a softer tone. “Why don’t you get another bottle while I finish here?”

“Sure,” he agreed, getting to his feet. “Do you need a band aid?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed as the cogs began to whir in his brain. “Um, do you know where I keep the band aids?”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “There’re some in the main bathroom. In the cabinet above the sink.”

When Matt disappeared, I swiftly gathered the rest of the broken glass and put it in the trash which I took straight outside. My finger had stopped bleeding by the time I got back inside so I rinsed it under the faucet in the kitchen before running the vacuum around the main living space to eliminate any tiny stray fragments I might’ve missed.

Feeling flushed and a little lightheaded, from a mixture of tiredness and alcohol, I wandered outside through the sliding glass doors onto the decking surrounding the pool while I waited for Matt. Relaxing back onto a wooden lounger, I wondered where the hell he’d gotten to. Then I caught his reflection in the glass doors, changed into only a pair of sweatpants and carrying a loaded laundry basket.

Standing up, I walked over to him, trying not to focus on the delicious ridges around his firm abs. “I could’ve bled out by now.”

“Shit, the band aid! I decided to take a shower and then I kinda forgot.”

“You have the attention span of a mosquito.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Do you still need one?”

“I’m good.” I waggled my finger in front of him. “It’s just a scratch,” I added, my eyes flitting between his face and the basket in his arms, confusion causing my brow to crease.

“It’s full,” he explained, his voice saturated with sadness.

“It can wait till tomorrow,” I said, attempting to take the basket from him.

He shook his head, keeping his grip around the wicker cylinder. “She’d kick my ass if she knew the only place I had left for dirty clothes is the floor.”

I smiled in agreement and realized, that even though it was something as menial as laundry, it was his way of communicating with his mom, letting her know that he was doing okay, that even though she was gone he still intended to do as he was told.

I followed Matt into the utility room and watched as he began to pop what I assumed was his first ever load of laundry into the machine. “Wait!” I leapt forward, grabbing his arm to stop him tossing his jeans inside. “You have whites in there. If you put those in they’ll turn your shirts a dirty gray color.”

“Hmm.” Matt scratched at his head, ruffling the light-brown hair that was still damp from his shower. “What about these?” he asked, swapping out the jeans for some light gray sweatpants.

“Yep, they can go in.”

“But they’re not white.”

“No, but they’re light. They don’t contain the same high levels of dye as denim.”

“Jeez, I didn’t know you needed a fucking degree just to wash your damn clothes.”

“You could always hire someone to take care of this stuff.”

“No,” he answered, his tone clipped and defensive. I abandoned the topic, wondering if he somehow thought of that idea as trying to replace his mom.

After reading the label on the back of the detergent box he managed to figure out how much to use in his wash, but unfortunately it didn’t tell him which buttons he needed to push to bring the machine to life. Lining my body up behind his, I snaked my arms around his waist and pointed to the correct button. When I pulled back, my hand grazed his bare skin and I couldn’t prevent the small gasp that catapulted from the back of my throat. My body stilled and every one of my senses sprang to high alert. Matt was the only thing in the room I could see and feel, and his scent became so intoxicating I felt like if I inhaled too deeply it would knock me to the ground.

We both stood completely frozen for what seemed like forever before Matt turned in my arms, his eyes locking on to mine, paralyzing me all over again.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice cracking but his body not moving an inch.

My hands hovered nervously either side of his waist before finally settling on his taut flesh. I stared deep into his eyes, seeing the confusion I felt reflected in them. “I don’t know,” I admitted, my heart thudding.

Feeling my cock swell, I tried to back away, terrified Matt would feel it and punch me in the face.

“Don’t,” Matt urged, pulling me back to him with gentle hands on my forearms.

“What are you doing?” I repeated the same question he’d just asked me. I hadn’t been so nervous, so confused, since my first kiss when I was fifteen years old.
Is that what this is? Is he going to kiss me? Am I going to kiss him?

“I don’t know either.”

I closed my eyes, sure that if I looked at him for just one more second I would literally come in my pants. Matt shifted, his body shuffling impossibly closer to mine, so close I felt his breath, that was infused with vodka and toothpaste, sweep over my face.

My breaths turned shallow and my pulse throbbed so violently in my neck I feared the vein might burst. “Matt…”

“Shh. I need to try something.”

Holy fuck.

A thousand thoughts raced through my mind in the two short seconds it took for Matt’s lips to reach mine. I knew what was about to happen, my doubts lay in whether I should allow it. Not only was I afraid of being someone’s experiment, especially someone who had the power to break my heart, I didn’t want to take advantage of a grieving man.

All thoughts and reason evaporated, however, the second the tender flesh of Matt’s lips brushed against my own. As Matt’s arms wound around my waist, his palms smoothing over the muscles in my back, I sighed into his mouth, pouring my emotions into him. His erection was prominent through his loose sweatpants and without thinking I reached down between us, gripping his cock through the soft material.

That was the move that ruined everything.

Matt jerked back, his mouth agape in shock.

“I should go,” I said, coughing in an effort to clear the lump clogging my throat as I turned for the door.

“Alex no. I just…I’m just not sure what’s going on right now. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I turned back around, unable to look him in the eye. “You haven’t. It’s
me.
I can’t do this, Matt. Not with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I felt so damn angry with myself as I practically ran through the utility room door. Why the hell did I let it happen? I’d probably ruined the best friendship I’d ever had beyond repair, lost the man I loved most in the world. There were too many reasons that kiss could never have meant as much to Matt as it did to me. He was grieving, probably feeling lonely and experimenting. He was renowned for being a whore. A commitment-phobe.

Oh yeah, and he was straight.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I cursed myself, pulling out my cell and punching in the number for the local cab company once I’d escaped through the iron gates guarding Matt’s house, leaving my car,
Matt’s
car, behind.

~Matt~

Two weeks later…

“
Where
do you want these?” Sawyer asked, his voice strained as he struggled to carry three large boxes stacked on top of one another.

“Just put ‘em down there,” I said, nodding toward the corner of my office. I sat down in my new black-leather swivel chair, spinning myself around before huffing and planting my head on the walnut desk. “I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing, Saw. We ran out of vodka last night and it was like the whole world ended.”

“Right, dude,” Sawyer said, plopping himself down on the plush brown couch. I could tell by his firm tone that he meant business and I reluctantly raised my head off the desk to give the illusion I was interested in whatever he had to say. “I’ve let it go the past couple of weeks because I thought you were dealing with losing your mum, but enough is enough. Where the fuck is Alex and what the hell is going on between you two?”

Born out of pure frustration, what can only be described as a growl escaped my mouth.

“I kissed him.”

I didn’t need to look at Sawyer to know he was pulling his confused face – the one where he scrunched his nose up like a pig. “I’m sorry, you did
what?
”

“I said I kissed him.” Exasperated, I slammed my palms down on the desk. “And now he won’t speak to me.” I waited impatiently, drumming my fingers against the desktop, for Sawyer to respond. After a long thirty seconds of silence, I figured he wasn’t going to. “What do I do?”

“Um…”

“You do the whole man-love shabobble, so tell me, why the fuck did I do it?”

“I do the whole man-love shabobble, which I’m pretty sure isn’t a real word by the way, because I’ve always been attracted to men. I just didn’t want to admit it for a long time. Are you telling me
you’ve
always been attracted to men? Because I’ve gotta tell ya, mate, I
never
saw that one coming.”

“No!” I answered, shaking my head. “I don’t even know if that’s what this is.
Am
I attracted to him? I can’t be. I fuck women. It’s
always
been about the women. Jesus, my head is so screwed up right now.”

After rambling on for a few more minutes I realized I was talking to myself rather than Sawyer as I tried to make sense of things.

“Okay, talk me through exactly what happened. Were you wasted? It is quite possible you’ve imagined the whole thing. You’ve done that before. Remember the time you woke up thinking you’d killed Kip in a bar fight? You even called the police precinct wanting to turn yourself in.”

I laughed humorlessly at the memory. I woke up that day a sweaty and shaking mess, remembering in vivid detail the moment I used an empty bottle of beer to land the fatal blow to Kip’s head. Turned out I dreamt the whole damn thing. “Yeah, and Kip wasn’t even in the country at the time.” The LAPD were
not
happy with me.

“But believe me this
definitely
happened.”

Sawyer stretched his neck from side to side and slapped his knees like he was preparing for a fight. “Talk to me, dude. Tell me everything.”

“Isn’t much to tell. I kissed him, he kissed me back, then he touched my dick and I freaked the fuck out.”

Sawyer blew through closed lips, clearly as bewildered as I was. “Right, let’s get back to right before you kissed him. What were you doing?”

“Laundry.”

“Laundry?
You
were doing
laundry?
”

“Yes, I was doing laundry.” I huffed, growing frustrated. “Now can we get back to the real issue here?”

“Sorry but you have to admit that’s almost as shocking as you kissing a dude.” Thankfully my death glare appeared to convey my growing impatience because Sawyer quickly got back to the more pressing subject. “So I’m guessing Alex was with you?”

“Without going off topic again, we all know I’d never used a fucking washing machine in my life. Alex was helping me.”

“And…you were so grateful you decided to thank him with a kiss?”

“Sawyer please, will you take this fucking seriously?”

“I am. I promise I am,” Sawyer said, surrendering his palms. “I’m just trying to work out why you did it.”

“Because I wanted to. Because he was so close and it was all I could think about. Because the feel of his hands on my waist gave me an erection bigger than the Empire State Building.”

“Whoa, Matt. This
has
to have been building for some time. There’s no way that was a spur of the moment thing.”

“You know who I think started it? My mom.”

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me,” Sawyer said, cocking one eyebrow as he relaxed further into the couch, spreading his arms out along the back cushions.

“It’s something she said a few weeks before she died.”

“So…your mom knew?”

“No.” I shook my head, propping my legs up on the desk in front of me. “Not about Alex, just about love. She told me all these things about knowing when you’ve found ‘the one’,” I told him, air quoting with my fingers. “And the more I thought about it, the more I realized she could’ve been describing Alex. Honestly, I just thought that’s what having a best friend felt like. I’ve never really had one before so-”

“Gee, thanks, dude,” Sawyer interrupted, sarcasm lacing his tone.

“You and the rest of the guys are my family. You know that. Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m just pulling your pisser, man.”

“Well don’t.” I sighed, tipping my head back. “And then there’s that whole obsession I had with his eyes.”

“Matt, are you telling me you think you’re
in love
with Alex?”

“
No!
Yeah…fuck I don’t know. I can’t be, right?”

“If you’d asked me an hour ago I’d have said ‘don’t be so fucking ridiculous’, but after listening to you, fuck I really don’t know. Answer me this, you said he touched your dick and you freaked.
Why,
if you kissed him first?”

“Because I almost came right there in my fucking sweatpants and it scared the shit outta me. It made me question everything I’ve ever known. I mean come on, you can’t just
turn
gay, right?”

Just saying it out loud sounded fucking ludicrous.

“You’ve lived an extraordinary life, Matt. Maybe it’s something that’s always been there but never had an opportunity to come out.”

“I’ve met plenty of guys, Saw. Never once have I been attracted to a single one of ‘em.”

“Have you ever had your dick out of a woman long enough to actually get to know a guy before though?”

“Touché.” I laughed, not just at Sawyer’s comment but at the whole situation I found myself in. “This is all Jake’s fault, you know.”

“And how the hell do you figure that?”

“Because everything was fine before he came on the scene. We were happy living for the music and women, and then he shows up with all his fucking gayness and passes it on to you. Then, like the pair of you were some kind of butt bandit magnets, Ryder comes along. Then like the gift that keeps on giving the gayitis spreads and suddenly life is all gay porn, gay clubs and gay fucking underwear. It’s gayness overload, dude! I’m fucking telling you that shit is contagious.”

Sawyer snickered, rolling his eyes at the same time. “Is there such a thing as
gay
underwear?”

“According to Ryder,” I said, shrugging before undoing the button on my jeans to expose the branded hem of my underwear. Sawyer raised his eyebrow, one side of his mouth curling up into a smirk. “They’re comfortable,” I said, feeling the need to defend my favorite pair of shorts. “What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“Firstly, you need to talk to Alex. It doesn’t sound like this is gonna go away.”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” I spat like a petulant child. “He’s pissed me off.”

“Jesus Christ, make up your damn mind.”

“The fucker won’t answer my calls. Like seriously, what the hell have I done that’s so wrong?”

“He’s probably feeling just as confused as you.”

“And how’d you come to that conclusion? Forgive me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure Alex is no stranger to playing slam dunk the asshole with a guy.”

“You’re being unfair. Whatever’s happened, or
might
happen, like you said he’s your best friend. Maybe he’s afraid to lose that. You
need
to talk to him.”

“Hmm, maybe.” I shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I think I need to sit out this sulk for a few days first.”

I’m not sure I’d ever been in such a vile mood before.
Everything
irritated me, including the sound of Sawyer’s boot tapping against the floor. Narrowing my eyes, I tossed him a glare.

“I gotta say, you seem to be handling this way better than I did when Jake walked back into my life, and I already knew I was gay deep down.”

“You know me, dude. I hit any shit life throws my way with a high five.”

“But this is a
huge
deal. You’re talking about something that could potentially change your whole life. When I think back to how
I
felt the first time I kissed a guy…my head was wrecked.”

“Yeah, well you were too worried about what everyone else would think. You know I don’t give a rat’s ass about other people’s opinions. Believe me, I ain’t saying I’m not struggling with this, I’m just not ashamed of it. Fuck, if I didn’t share it with you I’d go fucking crazy.”

“I know that feeling,” Sawyer said, nodding slowly. “I’m glad you told me.”

“Will you keep it between us for now? Until I’ve sorted this shit out. Obviously you can tell Jake.”

“Sure thing. But again, you
have
to talk to Alex.”

“Damn right you do.” Neither of us heard Ryder arrive and when I heard his voice I almost choked on my stomach. “Where the hell is he? We need all the help we can get.”

As of today, Kaleidoscope was closed for five weeks while it underwent a complete refit. I wanted to put my own stamp on the place and have a grand re-opening complete with VIP guests and press. Trouble was, although I’d spent half my life in bars and clubs, I’d always been too smashed to pay attention to the layout and décor. That’s why I hired Ryder to help me with the re-design, and why today the burnished black bar was being replaced with fuchsia granite embedded with silver glitter.

“Nice of you to join us. I was expecting you hours ago,” I said, hoping he hadn’t overheard the conversation between Sawyer and I. It didn’t feel right discussing what happened in my utility room with anyone else until I’d spoken with Alex. “How’s my favorite homo this morning?”

“Oh stop,” Ryder said, feigning shyness as he fanned his face with his hand. “I bet you say that to all the gays.”

I winked at him. “Only the hottest ones.”

“You should know the workmen have just pulled up outside. Time to get off your arse, roll up your sleeves and get to work, guys.”

I was relieved to see he’d apparently forgotten about Alex and his whereabouts. “You’re fucking with me, right? You don’t actually expect me to get my hands dirty. That’s what I’m paying
those
guys for,” I said, pointing in the general direction of the bar.

“Oh come on! I’ve bought you your own paintbrush!”

“This is an eighteen hundred dollar shirt.” I tugged lightly on my collar. “I’m not painting shit.”

“Fine,” Ryder huffed. “I’ll call Alex to come help. He
is
the manager, and not a lazy-arse fucker like
you
.”

Shit.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I snapped curtly. “Get me some fucking coveralls.”

**********

It took me three days to yank my head far enough out of my ass to even consider finding Alex. That wasn’t due to nerves, it was because I was fucking pissed. Anyone’d think the guy had never been kissed before. Was I
that
bad? I knew that couldn’t be it. I could’ve racked up testimonies in my favor from literally hundreds of chicks if I’d needed to.
Maybe
that’s
the problem.
Perhaps he thought, with him being a dude, I was playing some kind of sick joke.

Fuck, I wished it
were
a joke. Sure as shit would’ve been easier to get my head around.

I’d had another chat with Uncle Sawyer, this time getting Jake’s input, too. Jake’s initial reaction had been to laugh in my face…until he realized I was being serious. Just like Sawyer, once he’d absorbed everything I had to say, Jake’s opinion was that I needed to talk to Alex. No one seemed to hear my repeated argument that Alex was being a giant prick about the whole thing. Actually, no. In order for him to be a prick about it, that would mean he’d have had to acknowledge that anything had even happened.