Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) (60 page)

Mattie,

We love this series.

Do you think we can make it into a motion picture series?

Buy the rights from J. M. Hurst.

Love you,

Pops and Dad

“T
he question is, do I want to tell them that I write those books?”

A pair of violet lights stare at me as I finish retelling my day—my week. Tonight is the first night when we can relax as I’m staying for the weekend and not just a few hours. It’s been hard to synchronize our schedules. Thea refuses to fly to California where I have been working almost nonstop. Flying for a few hours to check on the record company and my girlfriend is a killer, but until I can rearrange my schedule, that’s how life has to roll.

“What do you think?” I ask, sweeping some curls off Thea’s face.

“That you sell yourself too short.” Her delicate hand caresses my cheek. “And maybe you should tell your parents who J. M. Hurst is. They’d be proud of you.”

“Maybe soon. I have to think about relocating Transcending, maybe to Vancouver.” She bites her lips and her eyes don't tell me much of what she's thinking. “It’s closer, we might see each other more often. How’s the new online store?”

“The webpage is starting to get traffic,” she says, cuddling closer to me. “Owl Originals doesn’t work as well as Butterfly Creations, but it’ll have to do.”

“Sounds like soon you’ll be back in business. What’s up with your new family?”

“We’re still getting to know each other, but it isn’t as awkward as being in bed with your boyfriend and having a stuffy conversation as if he’s a stranger.” She licks my jaw. “I miss you, Mattie.”

I knew staying overnight was a bad idea, but I really needed her tonight. Talking—talking is what I don’t need, but I can humor her. “You can’t miss me, I’m here.” I tease her skin with my fingers. “Shall I remind you how good it is to have me here?”

“No, you’re not, Mattie.” She pushes my hands away. “You’re halfway here.”

Fuck no
, I swear under my breath. She's going to do her thing and psychoanalyze us.

“We have to talk about it,” she insists, propping herself up against the headboard, letting the sheets fall, revealing her beautiful naked torso. Who wants to talk when her perky tits are begging to be sucked? Not me. “I’ve respected your
‘not now, Thea, I don’t want to talk’
shit,
but it’s affecting us. Avoiding me won’t make it better. Swinging by to have sex and leaving because you’re busy is getting old.”

I reach for her right breast and she slaps away my hand.

“Tristan wasn't just some dude we met and fucked. No. He is ours—”

“Was.” She glares at me. “What? If you want to be accurate, let's be accurate. Tristan was the guy we fell in love with and who stayed as long as it was convenient
for him
. When things got nasty, he packed his shit and left. He was never ours.”

Her body remains straight, but her eyes fill with hurt, hurt that’s pounding through my chest. Fuck. “Matt, we are barely holding it together.” Her lip quivers. “We can’t just try to move on without acknowledging the loss of Tristan.” Those enigmatic eyes close for a couple of breaths.

“Let’s be honest with each other. We need to face this and deal with it.” She drops her gaze. Her fingers fidget with the sheets and my heart thunders in fear. “Look, I get it. It hurts to lose someone who actually meant something—everything—to you. We both lost him; we both hurt. I love him too. I used to daydream about us—our life. Making plans, wondering what the days, weeks, and years ahead would bring for the three of us. Today . . .”

Her eyes lift, they’re watery. “We can’t continue like this, Matt. I just can’t be with you without him. It just doesn’t feel right. Something’s missing . . .”

“What are you insinuating, Agatha?” he yells, leaving the bed. “I fucking love you. He already ripped part of my heart out. Are you planning on shattering the other part? Butterfly, don’t fucking do this to me.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I can’t lose you, too. You want to talk? Fine, let’s talk. Yes, it hurts so fucking much that he decided we weren’t enough. That we weren’t worth the public bullshit he’d have to face. Like you, I believed that I had my life panned out—the three of us. Give us time.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” I explain, as a blanket of misery covers my entire body. Unable to stay put, I push myself out of bed too and slip on a T-shirt. “This is a break, Mattie, a vacation from me. For however long, you won’t have to worry about avoiding me or having to pretend everything is okay, when we both know it’s not. We both need it. I love you, but I’m hurt, too. This is hard, but it’ll be harder if we stay on this path and end up hating each other.”

Matt frowns, his stare frozen, but filled with raw sadness. “No, Thea. Baby, don’t do this.” His voice rips my insides, shredding me into pieces. “The only thing I have going for me is knowing that at the end of this dark period, you’re waiting for me. The light that’s guiding me through this is you. You’re my iridescent butterfly leaving colorful sparkles that guide me through the pathway out of wherever that fucker left me. If you pull the plug, I’ll stay in the darkness.”

With every word he says, a tear falls. One next to the other. I look down at my bare feet that almost touch his. Can we figure out a way to make this work?
How
would we? That is the huge question. I want to make this better. He’s been my rock for so long and if I want us to work it out, I have to be his rock right now.

“I don’t know how to make this work right now, Butterfly, but I can’t let you go either.”

I study him. He’s so sweet and vulnerable, always opening his heart and giving as much as he can. Watching my clean wrist, I decide to shrink us, handle this as a rehabilitation program. If it fails, you start again. We never give up.

“Back to the basics,” I say, lifting my gaze and clearing my tears.

“There’s no longer a number count on your wrist, why?”

A sad laugh is all I have for him. He just realized that. “I decided that I’m a big girl and I can count by years and months. Yes, the days matter, but I don’t need them on my skin to be strong.” I shake my head. “That’s what I mean, Matt. You would know if we were on better terms.”

He looks down at me, giving me a sad smile, his eyes suddenly understanding that I’m not trying to hurt him. We look at each other for a long period, searching for each other, assessing the damage of everything that has happened in the past months. “What now?”

“Let’s rewind and start again from day one,” I offer. “Let’s go back to being friends first, reconnecting and finding each other again. The rest will come. It has to because, Matthew Decker, you and I belong together. Like those waves that crashed and became one, sometimes they separate, but one day, eventually, they’ll find each other again. And we will, I promise you, we will.”

“Oh, we will, babe. We’re like bacon and eggs, Oreos and chocolate milk, chips and guac, pancakes and blueberry syrup, Mac can’t go without the cheese. That’s you and me, baby.” A chuckle escapes me, erasing the sobbing noises that began to take over the room. “You’re my soulmate and you know me better than anyone else. You inspire me to be better, because you accept me just the way I am. Uglies and shit behind. No one else laughs at my stupidities the way you do, or believes in me the way you do. If you believe this is the best way to get to that future we want, I’m game. But please just don’t drop my hand. Promise?”

“I swear I’ll never drop your hand, Mattie, and yes, I think this separation is for the best.” I stretch my neck and kiss him lightly knowing that for a long time this might be the last kiss we have. “I can’t believe you compared us with food.”

“We’re like chocolate shakes and hamburgers.” I rest my head on his chest remembering that those two go perfectly with fries . . . but we lost our fries. “I love you, Butterfly, never doubt that. And this break doesn’t include sex with other people. We’re not seeing other people. We belong to each other.”

“B
ut selling that part of the company . . .” My father trails off and looks at the papers I just handed him, then moves his gaze to me. “Are you sure we have to do this?”

“Yes, Father, we have to do it,” I inform him, handing him the pen. In order to save Cooperson Corporation and thousands of jobs, we have to sell a few divisions and properties. The empire my grandfather built is changing in order to be saved. “I put the Boston assets up for sale yesterday morning. We’ve received a few offers, but I made it clear that we’re in no hurry to liquidate them. They’re in the downtown area and if we do this right, you’ll have a good cushion.”

Father puts on his reading glasses, signs the papers, and then hands them to me. “Thank you for helping, Tristan.”

I shrug. A couple days after his accident, Mother left for the Hamptons and my siblings didn’t bother to show back up at the hospital. At his company, things are just as bad. His trusted management is moving on to other companies who can afford their salaries.

“Tomorrow night I’m heading to L.A. I’m closing one of my bars for the after-party of a premiere,” I announce, placing the papers inside my folder. “The nurse should be here for the night in case you need help while I’m gone.”