When Joss Met Matt (13 page)

I laughed. It wasn't funny, but there was just something so absurd about an apology for failing to provide sex. “No, it's okay. I don't really need it.” Partially true. I wasn't distraught over Martin, but I definitely wouldn't have turned down the offer if he'd been able to make it.

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you liked this guy.”

“I do. Did.” I shook my head. “It was doomed from the start. I'm just being stupid.”

“Well, anyway, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” I looked out the window at the light traffic on Regent Street. “You don't belong to me.”

“I know. I just—” He shrugged and reached for his coffee cup.

I looked back at him and smiled. “End of an era, right? We're big important college graduates now.” Maybe it was time to grow up and stop playing our silly game. If we left Sorbet Sex in Madison, it could be just a part of my college years.

Matt tapped one knuckle against my hand. “Still friends, right?”

“Sure. It's in the contract.”

He laughed. “Seriously, though. We're cool, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Matty, you're not
that
good in bed.” Liar, liar, liar.

He tossed a wadded up napkin at me. “Gone for one semester, and I already forgot what a complete pain in the ass you are.”

“I'll have to teach Meghan all of my tricks before I go home.”

“She knows plenty without your help, trust me.”

“I knew I liked her.”

“She likes you, too. God help me.”

“Good, then I want a good seat at the wedding.”

He blanched. “Not funny.”

“I guess little Matty's not all grown up after all.” I laughed. “Fine, then just try not to screw this up, okay?”

He laid one hand over his heart. “Believe me, I have no intention of screwing anything up.”

Chapter Sixteen

Three Years Earlier … First Year After Graduating from College

Dewey was in the living room when I arrived at Nellie's to pick him up, but the minute he saw me, he hightailed it to parts unknown. Nellie tilted her head, listening, then grimaced.

“That would be the sound of a fat cat squeezing behind the washing machine,” she said. “We'll have to wait him out.”

“He's mad at me.” I sighed and sank onto Nellie's couch, arching my back to dig out a rogue dog toy from the crease.

“Cats are such divas,” Nellie agreed, scooping up one of her own cats before taking his place on the armchair. “So, how was your weekend?”

“Good. Mostly good.” I rubbed my wrist over my forehead. “I think I have a headache.”

“Still hungover?” she teased.

I ticked off my reasons on my fingers. “Drank too much, slept on couches, stayed up too late every night, feeling like a loser after brunch today.”

“Why are you a loser?”

I laughed softly. Classic Nellie to phrase it that way. “My friend Matt has a new girlfriend.” I shook my head. “It's … complicated.”

“You want him for yourself,” she said.

“No! It's not like that. I'm happy for him. And her. She's great.” I slumped farther into the couch and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes just hard enough to see fireworks. “It's a long story.”

“I got time.”

Nellie absorbed the Sorbet story without much comment, but at the end, after a few considering breaths, she said, “That's fucked up.”

“Oh, come on, you've never heard of friends with benefits?”

“Yeah, and that always works out so well.” Nellie rolled her eyes. “Seriously, did you think you could keep something like that up?”

“It's been four years,” I said. “We're pretty good at it.”

“Well, something had to happen. One of you was going to get serious with someone else, or you were going to start dating each other.”

“No way. He's not my type at all.”

She opened her mouth, considered, then closed it. She repeated the process a few times until she found her voice. “I'm not even gonna touch that.” She put one finger up as if I'd interrupted her. “So if he's not your type, what are you all drama-ed up about the new girlfriend for?”

“I just—It's just that—” I bit the inside of my right cheek as I considered how far to tread into honesty. “I always figured it would be me who found my perfect guy first. Matt wouldn't have cared if I cancelled the arrangement, but it makes me feel like a loser that he has Meghan, and I just broke up with Martin.”

“How old are you again?” Nellie asked.

“Twenty-three.”

She made a sound from somewhere near the intersection of derisive snort and disbelieving non-word. “Please. You're not collecting Social Security yet, Joss. You'll find someone. Trust me.”

“I know.” I didn't really doubt that. But it didn't stop me from wanting a little Sorbet Sex to soothe my ego. Bruised by Martin, bruised by being alone for New Year's Eve, bruised by the loss of my Sorbet partner—and the only cure I knew for these injuries was exactly what I couldn't have. I was downright petulant. At least no one knew.

“Just don't put pressure on every relationship to be
the
relationship,” Nellie said.

If only that was my problem. “I think that's part of why I'm feeling like such a loser. I keep dating these guys I know there's no future with.”

“There's nothing wrong with that. It's called having fun.”

“Yeah, but …” I searched for the right words. “If dating is like doing the crossword, I've been writing in pencil and Matt was my eraser. Now, all of a sudden, I've got
The New York Times
Sunday edition and a permanent marker.”

“Okay, first of all, don't be such a drama queen. Second, that just means you're in the ring with everyone else. It's called being normal.”

“Well, whoop-de-freakin'-doo for being normal. So far, being a grown-up sucks.”

She laughed. “That's the secret, you know. Being a grown-up sucks.”

“I should have stayed in college.”

Martin moved out of the building in February, which made life easier. I hardly ever saw him, but I still caught a whiff of whatever he was cooking if I took the back stairs. He knocked on my door the day before he moved to break the news. I thanked him for telling me, hugged him, and wished him luck in his new place. He kissed me, just enough to make me consider the merits of hauling him into my bedroom one last time, but it would have been a mistake. Judging from the look in his eyes, he'd been debating the same thing. In the end, we parted ways at my door, and he became the last person I kissed for a very long time.

I took a break from dating. To my surprise, it wasn't that hard. I spent time with my friends, my sister, and her husband, and embraced the incomparable comfort of sprawling out on my couch in the evenings in the same ugly cutoff shorts night after night. Dewey was in favor of my new lifestyle; quickly finding all the most inconvenient places to wedge himself when I settled in for the night.

Matt started splitting his time between Milwaukee and Madison in April. He'd gotten an internship at a local law firm, which meant he had to be in town Monday through Friday. Meghan meant he had to go back to Madison as often as he could. She was still in school, and would be for the duration of Matt's time in law school. He was confident they could make it long distance, and I couldn't disagree.

The internship came on short notice, and he spent the first two weeks sleeping on my couch four nights a week while he handled his living arrangements in both cities. He'd never slept at my place without sleeping in my bed before. Saying good night to him the first night was foreign and embarrassing for some reason. He gave me a sweet smile and a hug, then hesitated twice before kissing me on the cheek.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to molest you in your sleep or anything,” I promised.

He laughed. “Damn.”

I
tsk'd
at him. “Calm yourself. Your man-slutting days are supposed to be over, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “I can't help feeling a little guilty.”

“We haven't done anything.” Although I knew exactly what he meant. “And we're not going to.”

“I know. It's just that she doesn't know …”

I propped one hand on my hip. “You wanna call and tell her right now?”

“Very funny.”

Dewey yowled at Matt's feet and started making figure eights around his ankles. The cat had fallen in love with Matt at first sight, and didn't like it when he couldn't have his full attention. Matt shifted to free one foot and rubbed his arch on Dewey's head.

“Look, Matty, we can't un-have sex. It happened. It happened before Meghan happened. We have to figure out how to do this, or we can't be friends.”

He nodded. “I feel like I've missed my window. I should have told her about you already.”

“You don't have to tell her anything,” I said. “I promise I will never say a word to her.”

“I know you won't.”

“But, if you keep acting weird about me, she's probably going to think something is up anyway.”

He blew out a breath. “Good point.”

“I don't know what the etiquette is in this situation.” I shrugged.

“Me either.” He chuckled. “I'm not sure anyone does.”

“We'll figure it out.”

“I want you both in my life,” he said. “You're one of my best friends.”

Warm tingles bloomed in my chest. “Thanks, Matty.” I stood on tiptoe to hug him again and he gave me a breath-stealing squeeze. When I could talk, I said, “We'll figure this out. You can have both of us.”

His eyes glinted for a microsecond before he smiled. “Yeah?”

I crossed my arms. “No way, pal.”

“What?” His eyes went puppy-wide. “What did I say?”

“You didn't have to say anything. I know how your mind works, you big perv.”

“What?” he tried again, lips betraying him with a grin. “I didn't say anything.”

“Uh-huh.” I gave him a shove. “I'm going to bed.”

He laughed. “I didn't say a word.”

“You didn't have to.”

He kept laughing as I headed for the bedroom.

“Men.”

“You brought it up!” he called after me.

I turned. “Okay, fine. But, you're still a pervert.”

“Is that a definite ‘no'?” he called after me, still laughing.

“Tell you what, call Meghan. Run this by her, and then we'll talk.”

He stopped laughing out loud, but his shoulders still shook. “Don't think I won't.”

“I
know
you won't.”

“Good night, Joss.” He grinned.

“Good night.” I managed to get my door closed before I let my own amusement show. It felt good to be making absurd jokes with him again. I felt like we were getting back to solid ground. We could actually be friends.

Everything fell apart in June.

The annual Fourth of July trip to Matt parents' cottage was already planned. I couldn't wait to spend some time with old friends again. Matt was living in Milwaukee by that time, still visiting Meghan like a devout churchgoer. I was still single and happy with it, though I was finally starting to consider a lift on the man embargo. Life was good.

Then, Matt called me on a Thursday night and I could tell he was stressed.

“I think I'm in trouble, Joss.”

“What's wrong?”

He blew out a long sigh. “It's Meghan … she's acting a little strange.”

“How so?”

“She … I don't know. She was supposed to come down this weekend, and she just told me she can't. She won't say why.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Matty. A girl's allowed to have a few secrets.”

“She sounded upset.”

I pursed my lips, thinking. Over the last six months, I'd gotten to know Meghan pretty well. Our connection was through Matt, of course, but we had enough of a relationship, that I could make an offer to help. “Why don't I just call her?”

“Would you?” He sounded so relieved I almost changed my mind. More than likely, I wasn't going to learn anything from Meghan if she wasn't going to talk to her own boyfriend.

“Yeah, I'll call.”

“Thanks, Joss. I owe you.”

“Don't worry, I'll collect on the debt sometime.”

He laughed a little, and I felt a small relief that he hadn't lost his sense of humor.

“I'll call her now.”

We said our goodbyes and I found Meghan's number. I dialed, feeling a sense of dread. I knew I shouldn't be interfering.

“Meghan, it's Joss.”

“Oh my God, how are you?” She sounded pleased to hear from me.

“I'm good. How are you?” My tone sounded overly pleasant, even to my own ears. She must have known this was not a social call.

“I'm good. What's going on?”

“Are you coming up to Matt's place for the Fourth?” This was the pretense I'd constructed for my call. It seemed legitimate, if a little forced.

“I'm supposed to,” she answered, which was really not an answer.

“Why do I sense a ‘but' here?”

There was a quiet sigh from her end of the line. “I don't know if I'm gonna make it.”

“Is something wrong?” I twirled one of my curls around one finger until it was tight to my scalp. I was nervous on Matt's behalf.

This time there was a long silence.

“Meghan?” I asked, wondering if we'd become disconnected.

“I shouldn't be talking to you about this.”

My heart fluttered into a rapid tattoo. “It's okay. You don't have to.”

“No … I—” Her voice broke and I heard a thick intake of breath. “Oh God, I'm the worst person in the world!”

It was my turn to be quiet. I couldn't imagine what she meant.

“See, I was late, but it was all a mistake, but it made me realize—oh God …”

“I don't understand.”

“It's just not enough,” she said and sniffed loudly.

“Meg, I don't know what you're talking about. What can I do? Do you need help?” Curl twirling was no longer enough. Time to fit my thumbnail between my teeth.

“He asked you to call, didn't he?”

“No.” That was true, but I couldn't leave out the rest. “I offered.”

“Shit,” she said, to herself I think. And then she told me the truth. It was all a terrible misunderstanding. She had counted the days on her calendar wrong, and for a moment—just a long, terrifying moment—thought that her period was late. That she was pregnant. But that moment was all it took for her to realize something awful: she didn't love Matt enough to ruin her life.

“It would have been over, Joss. Completely over. I'm not ready to have a kid. I don't even know if I want to, and the thing is, I know—I know—that Matt would have been okay with it. He would have married me. I know he would have. And you know what? I don't want that. I love Matt so much. So, so much. But I can't give it all up for him, and that means he's not The One.”

“But it was just a mistake,” I said. “Nothing happened.” Even though I wanted to reassure her, inside, I was dying for her. In all the times I'd taken the risk of sex, I'd never had a pregnancy scare of any kind. I could only begin to imagine the terror she'd felt as she stared at the calendar. My stomach clenched in sympathy.

“But it all came to me like that. I would have gotten rid of it. I wouldn't have even told Matt. Isn't that sick? God, what's wrong with me?”

“Nothing's wrong with you,” I promised. I could imagine myself curled up in the fetal position and bawling if I'd been in her shoes. But I forced myself into confidence. “You just had a scare. Why don't you tell Matt what happened?”