Read Maybe Matt's Miracle Page 8


  I nod.

  “Good,” he says.

  He turns and walks away from me. I step out into the hallway and call toward his back. “That’s it?” I ask.

  “For now,” he calls back, but he’s laughing. He waves at me as the elevator doors close, and I sag back against the wall.

  That wasn’t very nice. But I’m grinning when I go back into the apartment.

  Matt

  God, that was hard. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone so much in my life. But she’s not ready for me. I can tell. She’s not ready for the kind of want I have inside me. Hell, I’m not sure I’m ready for it, either. But I want to be, and that’s a good place to start.

  I have a little spring in my step on the way back to Reed’s. I feel bad leaving the way I did earlier, right in the middle of a tattoo. But Seth needed me, and to be honest, I wanted to see Sky.

  It’s hard to admit that with everything I’ve been given in life, I haven’t appreciated it enough. I’ve gotten second and third chances that most people will never have. But even after all that, I’ve just been coasting. She makes me want to do more than coast. She makes me want to pedal hard.

  I walk into the shop, and I’m glad when I just see Logan and Pete. Logan is two years younger than me, but he’s wicked smart. Pete’s the youngest, barely twenty-one, but he’s in a serious relationship just like Logan, and I want to pick their brains a little.

  “Everything okay?” Logan asks. Logan is deaf, but his speech is excellent, so he speaks to us. When we talk back to him, we sign and speak at the same time so he doesn’t miss anything. Logan didn’t talk for years, not until he met Emily and she made him open his mouth. Now he rarely shuts up.

  “Fine,” I reply. “I just went over to Skylar’s.”

  Pete’s eyes narrow at me. “What the fuck happened to your nose?” he asks.

  I look in the mirror over the sink. The skin under my eyes is a little purple, and I imagine there’s a good chance I’ll have two black eyes by tomorrow morning.

  “Skylar hit me,” I say.

  Pete snorts. “Shut the fuck up,” he says when I just look at him. “She really hit you?”

  “It was an accident,” I say. “We were playing Wii bowling, and the controller flew out of her hand.” I touch my nose. It actually hurts like a motherfucker.

  “You’ll have to marry her,” Logan says. “It’s a rule.” But he’s laughing. I’m not.

  “Yeah, I am kind of headed in that direction,” I say. I don’t look at either of them because I feel like they’ll see right through me. They always have been able to.

  “What?” Logan rolls his chair over toward me so he can look directly at me.

  “You saw what I said,” I say.

  He arches his brow. “I just want to be sure I saw it right.”

  I shove his chair with my foot, and he skids across the floor. “You saw it right.”

  “Already?” Pete says. He sits down across from me. “You just met her.”

  “How long was it before you knew you wanted Reagan?” I ask. I can’t shove Pete away because he’s not on wheels.

  “Seconds,” he says. He doesn’t even blink.

  I look at Logan. “And you?” I ask.

  “I never wanted Reagan,” Logan says. Pete punches him in the arm, and he throws up his hands in surrender. “Minutes.” He looks at me. Logan has this way of looking into your soul. He has to read people based on their body language, and I’m afraid he’s reading all of mine. “Wow,” he breathes. “You like her that much.”

  I nod. “Yeah.” I scoff. “I’m not in love with her or anything”—I might as well be honest—“but I can’t get her off my mind.”

  “You done her yet?” Pete asks.

  “Done her?” I repeat.

  He makes a crude gesture with his hands. “Done her,” he says again.

  “God, no,” I breathe. “I haven’t even kissed her.”

  “Wow,” Logan says again.

  “Would you stop saying that?” I gripe.

  “You want to kiss her,” Pete says.

  “I want to do all sorts of things with her,” I admit. “But she’s special.”

  “Wow,” Logan says again.

  “Cut it out!” I shove his shoulder.

  “I remember when I brought Emily home. She slept in my bed for a long time before we ever had sex. It wasn’t about that. It was about those quiet, intimate moments. Those were what mattered. They fed my soul.” Leave it to Logan to hit the nail on the head.

  “Yeah,” I say. Like that.

  “I wanted to fuck her, too, but not until I knew it was permanent.” His comment is crass, and someone else might find it crude and uncaring, but I find it honest.

  “Same here,” Pete tosses out. “That’s how you know the right one. When you would take hearing her voice over getting your rocks off.”

  I nod. I don’t know what else to say. Pete shoves my shoulder. “I’m happy for you?”

  “Are you asking me?”

  He shrugs. “Sort of. I don’t know what to tell you. If she’s the one, you’ll know it.”

  “What about April?” Logan asks.

  “What about her?” Why would he bring April up now?

  “Not too long ago, she was still on your mind. That changed?” Logan asks.

  “Yeah. A lot.” I tug the rubber band from my hair and let it fall around my face. I run my fingers through it to buy myself some time. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “That’s the beauty of love,” Pete sings.

  “I’m not in love with her,” I challenge.

  “Not yet. But there’s a possibility.”

  “Yeah.” A lot of possibility. I grin.

  “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” Logan asks.

  I shake my head. “Not anymore. They broke up.”

  Logan’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “She gave me the impression that he didn’t like the idea of raising biracial kids.” I wince because I don’t even like saying it out loud.

  “How do you feel about that?” Logan asks.

  “Kids are kids,” I say. We have been exposed to so many types of people, and with Logan’s disability, we learned early what’s important in life. And now that Pete’s working with disabled kids and kids from the youth detention center, he often brings them home and we’re exposed even more. It doesn’t matter what your outsides look like; it’s your insides that count. “I want them almost as much as I want her,” I admit. “I’d be honored to have a place in their lives. Any place they’ll let me have.”

  Logan still looks flummoxed.

  “Stop looking at me like I’ve gone apeshit.”

  Logan shakes his head. “I’m just surprised,” he admits.

  “Me, too.”

  Pete claps a hand on my shoulder. “When do we get to meet her again?” he asks.

  “Bring her around you guys?” I blow out a breath. “You have to be crazy. You’d scare her away.”

  But in all honesty, I wouldn’t want anyone who couldn’t accept my brothers exactly as they are. They’re loud and rude and they fart a lot, but they all have hearts of gold. And they’re mine. “I’ll ask her.” I look around the shop. “Are we done for the day?” I ask.

  “We?” Pete protests. “I didn’t see your ass doing tats tonight.” He shrugs into his coat. “I’m going home,” he says. But before he leaves, he looks at me and stalls.

  “What?” I ask.

  He grins. “I’m just so happy for you,” he says then laughs. “I really am.”

  “Shut up,” I grouse.

  He leaves, and it’s just me and Logan. He stops speaking and starts signing. She’s the one, huh? he asks.

  Maybe, I sign back. I don’t know.

  He nods. Good.

  Good what?

  If anybody deserves a happily ever after, Matt, it’s you.

  Shut up, I grouse again. I don’t know what to say to that.

  He
laughs. I’m going home. You should, too.

  I nod and help him lock up. Then he leaves me in the street with a fist bump and a quick I love you sign. I flash it back at him, and he walks away.

  I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll to Sky’s number. It’s late, but I want to hear her voice. It’s stupid, I know. But it is what it is.

  “Hello,” she says, her voice hesitant.

  I lean against the building because my knees wobble when I talk to her. It makes me giddy. “Hi,” I say quietly.

  “Hi,” she breathes back.

  “Were you asleep?”

  “No, I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “You,” she admits. My heart starts to beat harder.

  “Good thoughts?” I ask.

  I can almost hear her smile through the phone. “Very good.”

  “I just wanted to say good night.” It sounds stupid aloud.

  “I’m glad you called,” she replies. “Really glad.”

  “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  She laughs. “You better.”

  “Good night, Sky,” I say.

  “’Night, Matt.”

  I disconnect the call and put my phone in my pocket. No one is up when I get home. I’m not even sure if Paul is home. I go into my bedroom and get ready for bed. Just as I slide between the sheets, my phone rings. I see that it’s her number.

  “Sky?”

  “Yeah,” she admits.

  “You okay?”

  “I just wanted to tell you good night,” she says quietly.

  “I think you already did that.” But inside, my heart is beating like a tattoo gun.

  “Oh,” she says quietly. She laughs. “Sorry.”

  “You tired?” I ask.

  “Not at all.”

  So we talk late into the night. We talk until my eyes are droopy, and I still don’t want to hang up the phone.

  Skylar

  I need toothpicks to hold my eyelids open today. Matt and I talked until really late last night, but every time I got ready to hang up the phone, he would ask me something else. It was always something thought provoking and deep. And he answered my questions, as well.

  I now know that he likes any kind of ice cream with chocolate chunks in it. He loves nuts. And he has this crazy passion for life that I didn’t know even existed. His family is important to him, and mine is, too. He asked me out on a date for Friday night, but I put him off because I don’t know yet where Seth will be on Friday.

  But I do want to go out with him. I want to spend some time alone with him with no kids in the other room. I want to kiss him and see if this passion is all in my head.

  It’s almost lunchtime, and I have successfully avoided Phillip the whole morning. He approached me once, but I turned my back on him, and he went the other direction. I have been working really hard on a case today, getting my paperwork ready. I stop and press the heels of my hands into my eyes. I really shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night.

  The buzzer on my phone goes off. “Yes,” I call.

  “Sky,” the receptionist says quietly. I pick up the handset.

  “Yes,” I say again. “What’s up?”

  “There’s a really hunky guy standing in front of me, and he’s asking for you,” she whispers into the phone.

  What hunky guy would be asking about me? “What does he look like?”

  “He’s about six two,” she starts.

  “Six three,” I hear someone say.

  “Oh, six three,” she says. “He’s a big one.” She giggles.

  My heart jumps. “What color is his hair?”

  “Blond. And long.”

  It’s Matt. Oh shit. It’s Matt.

  “I’ll be right there,” I say. But my heart is thumping like crazy. What is Matt doing here? I hunt around under my desk for my shoes and slide them on. Then I straighten my skirt and run a hand down my hair to smooth it. A minute ago, I had it held up with a pencil.

  It’s just Matt, I tell myself. It’s Matt.

  “Do you want me to send him back?” the receptionist asks. She laughs again. “Or I can just keep him?”

  Definitely not. He’s mine. “I’ll be right there,” I repeat. I look down at my business suit. I hope I look all right. I guess it’s too late now to worry about it.

  I walk into the reception area and find Matt leaning against the glass doorway. He turns to face me and smiles. “Hi,” he says quietly.

  I walk toward him, my legs shaky. “What are you doing here?” I ask, but I’m grinning, too. I stop in front of him, one move short of leaning into him for a hug. The receptionist is watching really closely.

  “I came to see if you want to go to lunch.” He shrugs. He’s wearing black jeans and lace-up boots. A black T-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, and it’s tucked neatly into his jeans. I can see his tattoos. A piece of hair has fallen from his ponytail, and I want to reach up and tuck it behind his ear.

  “How did you find out where I work?” I ask. I motion for him to follow me. Thank you, I mouth at the receptionist, and she winks at me and gives me a thumbs-up. I shake my head, and Matt walks quietly behind me.

  “I texted Seth,” he says.

  “Traitor,” I say, but inside, I’m thrilled.

  “Did I come at a bad time?” he asks. He looks down at his wrist, even though there’s no watch on it. “I can come back later.”

  “No, no.” I don’t want him to leave. Ever. I lean against the edge of my desk. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  His voice is deep and soft when he responds. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” He shrugs, looking a little sheepish. “So I figured I’d drop by. I totally understand if you’re too busy, though.” He looks into my eyes. “I might cry if you send me away, but I’ll go.”

  I’m not going to send him away. Not a chance. “I don’t want you to go,” I say.

  He grins. “Good.” He looks around my office. “Do you have time for lunch?”

  “Oh!” I cry. “I thought you were just going to stand there and let me look at you. You actually want to go somewhere.”

  He laughs. “Yeah. I told you. I’m going to make you fall in love with me. Lunch is step one.”

  “What’s step two?” I ask impulsively.

  “If I told you, it wouldn’t work.”

  I nod. I want it to work. “Don’t tell me.”

  “Guy’s got to have some secrets.” He smiles. “Can you leave with me for a little while?”

  I hold my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Just for a little while.” I motion toward my desk. “I have a big case I’m working on.”

  “You can tell me about it over lunch.”

  Yes, I can. Because I’m going with him.

  I get my purse and put it over my shoulder. I’d follow him just about anywhere right now. I walk toward him and step up onto my tiptoes. He bends down a little and puts his cheek in front of me. I groan, but I kiss it quickly. He covers the wet spot with his hand. “I’m going to hold it there the rest of the day,” he says.

  “You use these moves on every woman you meet?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Just telling you how I feel,” he says. He looks into my eyes, and I see nothing but sincerity.

  He opens the front door for me, and his hand lands at the small of my back to guide me through it. Goodness, I’m ready to melt. After we’re through the door, he reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. I look up at him.

  “This okay?” he asks.

  I nod, and we continue that way to the corner bistro.

  “You’re quiet,” he says as the waiter seats us. It’s a busy place, but the food is amazing and a lot of people from our office come here. I slide into the booth, and he slides in beside me.

  I startle a little. “Oh,” I breathe.

  “This okay?” he asks. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Yeah,” I breathe. “Fine.”

&n
bsp; He looks at the menu. “What’s good?” he asks.

  Do I have to behave and pretend to count calories? Or can I get what I want? I look into his face. I just can’t gauge him.

  “What?” he asks, but he’s smiling.

  “Will you be disgusted if I get the really fattening Reuben with chips?”

  His brow furrows. “Why would that disgust me?”

  I lay a hand on my stomach. “I’m starving.”

  The waiter comes back, and Matt orders two Reubens with chips and sodas. “I think you’re pretty damn adorable, you know that?” He turns a little to face me.

  “Right back at you,” I say, lifting my straw to my mouth. I take a sip, and he watches me closely. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “Just a smile,” he says. “I like it.”

  I grin even more. “Me, too.”

  “So Seth has a match tomorrow,” he reminds me. “Do you care if I go?”

  “Seth invited you, didn’t he?”

  He nods. “But I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.”

  I look into his eyes. “You’re wanted,” I say. My heart starts to thump.

  “Ditto,” he says. “I love wrestling. All my brothers wrestled. Including me.”

  “Did you say Seth is pretty good?”

  He nods. “Regional champ for his weight last year,” he says. “He’s really good. Good enough he might be able to get a scholarship.”

  “Wow,” I breathe. “That’s pretty amazing.”

  “Their mom left money for college, right?” he asks.

  I nod. The waiter brings our food, and Matt is apparently comfortable with eating and talking. “There was an insurance policy that’s very generous,” I tell him. “Enough to take care of them.”

  “She was pretty good about planning,” he says. “Your dad helped her a lot, too, with managing money.”

  “What did she do for a living?” I ask. I really don’t know much about my half sister. Not much at all.

  “She was an attorney. I think she practiced criminal law.”

  “Putting away the bad guys.”

  He nods. “When she could.”

  “I don’t do anything quite that sacrificial.”

  “What kind of law do you practice?” He is giving me all the attention he’s not giving to that sandwich.