The Two-Night One-Night Stand (4 page)

Not that long
. I give in, going against my better judgment, and acknowledge the voice.

Seventeen months, six days, eleven hours, and forty-three minutes.

Really? Has it been that long? Fuck. That really is a long time.

Yes, it is. Listen to me, Matty. You cannot tell her.

It’s getting hard to ignore my outspoken dick and his valid points as to why I should keep up this charade. But I need to. I shake my head and tune out the inner voice of my horny peen. I’m not that kind of guy. Time to rip off this sticky Band-Aid and just tell her.

We take a booth in the back corner and Holly shimmies out of my coat.

Boobies! Boobies! Boobies!
Peen sounds the alarm.

I ignore Peen. My eyes drop down to the front of her uniform. Boobies! Boobies! Boobies! Shit, no I don’t.

“Are you okay?” Holly startles me out of my twisted battle with the conscienceless wonder in my pants. I drag my eyes away from her cleavage and back up to her blushing face. “This costume is ridiculous, isn’t it?” She drops her head, toying with the zipper, trying to bring it up. “I shouldn’t have gone for such a stupid costume. I mean, you didn’t. You’re wearing actual scrubs. I should have done that. This probably looks awful.”

“No, it looks great.” I respond just a little too fast and try to recover. “Lots of nurses have big, um….” My attempt at recovering fails miserably. Words to finish the sentence fly through my head; they’re all wrong and now the unfinished sentence just lingers between us, causing an awkward silence. I think I hear Peen laugh at me. This is his fault. I blame him for hoarding most of the blood supply, leaving my brain depleted. Thankfully, two plates of hot, mushroomy pizza are placed before us. I flick off a few mushrooms and cram the slice into my mouth, hoping a little nourishment will help me get my head on straight. “So, what do you do for a living?” I ask, switching topics.

Her cell phone vibrates on the table. She reaches for it and frowns. “This is actually my boss right now. Do you mind if I step outside and take this?”

“Go right ahead.” I stand up from the booth when she does; it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but comes across a little corny. She sweeps the hair from her face and giggles at my chivalry. I hold my breath but can’t help but smile watching her as she walks to the front door and holds it open for the customer on their way in. I’m midexhale until I realize who the customer is. My mouth drops as my sister-in-law Robin enters and spots me. She waves her hand, coming toward me. Oh shit.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out with Kent and Patrick?” she asks, and looks down at my plate. “Are those mushrooms?”

“Change of plans,” I answer her in a hurried voice, staring at the door. “I’m out with a girl but I’m not Matthew and I don’t know you.”

“Huh?” She looks over her shoulder, scanning the pizza place. “What is this? What’s going on? Is this some weird joke?”

“No.”

“Matthew, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I keep my eyes on the window for any signs of Holly. I don’t want to have to explain who Robin is. Not before telling Holly the actual truth. “Please, just….” I motion with my head for my sweet sister-in-law, who I am surely confusing the shit out of, to walk away. “I’ll explain tomorrow, I swear,” I whisper through clenched teeth.

Robin shrugs, rolls her eyes, and walks away mumbling. I owe her one heck of an explanation and apology. And I will give them to her, just not right now
.

I sink back in my seat. Christ that was close. My nerves are shot. Perhaps I was wrong suggesting we leave the bar, because right now a drink would certainly hit the spot.

Holly returns a few minutes later, after Robin has thankfully picked up her pizza and left. “I hope you’re okay with this.” She slides a bottle of wine out from a brown paper bag. “I ran in to the liquor store next door. I know this place has a BYOB policy. They’ll uncork it for us and bring out some glasses if we just ask. What do you think?”

“Absolutely.”

Incredible. She damn near just read my mind. This girl keeps getting better and better. Wine is perfect. Just what I need. I’ll have a glass, loosen up, and then I can tell her about the little costume mix-up. I just need to find the right time.

JAYNE’S BROTHER DRAINS his glass of wine. His broad shoulders finally relax, along with the rest of him. I knew it was just nerves and nothing a glass or two of wine wouldn’t fix. Fix-ups are never easy, and I had the slight advantage of calming my nerves with the two shots I took before meeting him. When my boss called, it was the perfect excuse to sneak out to the liquor store and grab us a bottle.

With the small talk out of the way, we move on to more personal discussions and it’s a refreshing surprise when he actually lets me take the lead and shows an interest in my life. Instead of just telling him what I do, I go into more depth, discussing why I love my new job and how I get to interact with people all over the world on a daily basis. When we discuss family, he lets me gush on and on about my two nieces. He grins and nods at my silly statements about Disney princesses, Monster High, and of course, Barbie, almost like he knows what I’m talking about.

“I happened to get my hands on this ultrarare glitter Shopkin.” I stop myself. Okay, enough, I’ve crossed the realm of girly items over to a toy no man in his twenties would know anything about.

“Where the hell did you find the ultrarare glitter Shopkin?” he asks, his brows coming together with a shocked expression of someone who not only understands the value of this item but genuinely has an interest in where I found it. “I’ve searched everywhere online,” he says, bringing the conversation to an uneasy halt.

He’s searched everywhere online? Is that what he just said? I pick up my wine for a long gulp and try to process this.
Gulp
. Nope. I can’t. “You have?” I know Jayne doesn’t have any kids. Is it possible that she left out some details about her brother? “Do you have kids?” I ask.

He shakes his head no. His hand reaches up and covers his mouth. I get a sense of panic from the wide eyes looking back at me. My heart sinks ever so slightly. Shit. Is he like a Brony or some weird-ass crap like that? An adult man with an obsession for little kid toys? He stares into his wine glass then takes a big sip. “A guy at work, his kid collects them, that’s how I know about the whole Shopkin phenom.”

I sit back in the booth and unpin the little white cap from my hair, deciding if I find that answer okay or not. I shake my hair out and gaze at the man across from me before deeming it an acceptable response. But maybe that’s just because so far he’s endearing, intellectual, and not to mention, hot as hell! Honestly, I don’t even think I give a shit if he is a Brony.

I owe Jayne big-time. Her brother is awesome. Way more than I could have expected. And I can’t get over how unbelievably good-looking he is. I look for a detail that links him to his sister, but see none. Nick is tall and dark, compared to my friend’s small, fair features. His chestnut hair sticks up at the top where his hand rakes through it repeatedly. A very cute quirk. One that makes me want to reach over and touch that mussy hair, to run my fingers through it and tug and just....

Holly! Calm yourself!

What the hell has gotten into me? Is it the booze? Or is it the fact that I’ve been sitting across from this hot guy basically wearing the equivalent to slutty lingerie all night? There’s just something about him; he’s making my body hum to life in a way it hasn’t since… since… ever.

He picks up the wine and refills both of our glasses, draining the bottle down to the last few drips. Our pizza is done, wine is empty… damn, does this mean the date is about to end? I sip the last of my wine slowly, trying to make it last. We’ve reached the awkward this-date-is-over-now-what part of the night.

“This is good wine,” he says, picking up the empty bottle to examine the label. “I’m gonna have to get a bottle of this.” It’s an $8.99 Pinot Grigio, tolerable but hardly good. He’s stalling, looking to stretch the conversation in some leading way. I try to contain my smile, knowing he doesn’t want this night to end either.

“We could pick a bottle up now and you could come back to my place?” My head jerks back and my mouth falls open, startled by my own blatant request.
Oh God. What did I just do? Oh God. He’s not saying anything.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
I brave a glance in his direction. Wide hazel eyes are lost in thought.
He’s thinking about it. Why does he need to think about it? Quick, tell him you take it back.

“Definitely. Let’s go.” He accepts my offer with a sexy grin that nearly slides the panties right off me.

I’m in trouble. Big trouble. Lust-induced trouble. The best kind.

He once again offers me his warm coat and I slide it on, relishing in its toastiness. My eyes close and I bring the collar up to my nose for a luxurious sniff of the musky cologne that lingers inside the lining of his coat. The scent makes my mouth water and the buzzing inside me turns to an ache. A blistering ache. An ache that lets me know I’m gonna do bad things tonight.

“You can’t drive, and I know I didn’t drink that much but I probably shouldn’t drive either. It’s late but you never know, kids could still be out on the streets trick-or-treating.”

I appreciate his caution. It speaks volumes about his character. “I have the Uber app.” I had downloaded it on my phone for a just in case moment such as this one. He gives me a nod of approval. I open the app and it only takes a few clicks before someone is on their way to pick us up.

The cold air is sobering as we both stand in silence waiting for a car that’s only three minutes away. I could pretend the cold air is making me rethink my invite, but that would be a big fucking lie. The anticipation building at getting him back to my place is becoming overwhelming.

It’s quiet, too quiet.

“You lied to me before,” I say, breaking the silence, hoping he’s not having any second thoughts.

His face startles back in horror. “I… I… I,” he stammers. It’s adorable how quickly he gets flustered.

“Mushrooms,” I say with a laugh. “You said you loved Marsala pizza but you picked off most of the mushrooms.”

“Oh, mushrooms.” His shoulders relax but his nose crinkles up in disgust. “Mushrooms on pizza isn’t exactly my favorite. I guess I just said it hoping to impress you.”

“Impress me?” This makes me laugh even more and I tease, “Well, my criteria for liking a guy usually does depend on whether or not he likes mushrooms.” He starts in on the nervous hair raking, a bashful grin stretching across his face as he looks down at his feet. I reach for his hands and use them to pull myself up to his ear and whisper, “Don’t worry, I just invited you back to my place, I think it’s safe to say I’m impressed.”

MY BRAIN MAKES one more attempt to get me to do the right thing. But once her hot breath reaches my ear, my logic officially packs its bag and leaves town. I didn’t tell her and it is now apparent I’m not going to tell her.

I capture her cold cheeks in my hands, tipping her face up toward mine. Her mouth puckers into a heart, waiting to be kissed. I savor the moment. This incredibly sexy girl wants me to kiss her.