Last Light(29)

I highly doubted Seth would “get it” if he knew the truth. Death wasn’t in the picture here, just deception.

My mind trailed over the Goldengrove gig, and I frowned when I remembered I’d deleted all their songs. Yeesh, overreact much? I started a song by Broken Bells.

It was, I realized, very possible that I overreacted to all of it—Shapiro’s interrogation, the looks the other memorial guests gave me, even Seth’s request for a kiss.

I was hypersensitive, crazy with guilt. Maybe there was no harm in any of it …

I turned onto the narrow road leading out to the cabin. My palms began to sweat. God, why was I nervous? I wiped my hands on the seat.

The road steepened and my Civic labored over the snow. My wheels spun. The car pitched forward and slid back.

I found the driveway and veered onto it. Matt had shoveled the dirt drive as well as he could. I slowed the car as I neared the cabin. My headlights swung across the snow.

Matt.

He jogged through a drift. Jesus, he was barefoot! And his hair was … black? But it was Matt. My Matt. My night owl.

As the last light of day peeled off the snow, he closed the distance between us. I lunged out of the car. He caught me in a hug and crushed my body to his.

“Hannah. Goddamn.” He lifted me off my feet. His hands were in my hair, against my neck, on my back and arms. He touched me all over as if to make sure I was real. And maybe I wasn’t. This felt like the best dream.

“Matt. Baby. Hi. Hey…” I stroked his face. I scrubbed away the beginnings of tears from my eyes. “Your hair.” I ruffled it.

“Black,” he said, his voice muffled as he kissed my neck.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Yes, black.”

Matt came up for air long enough to look me in the eye. “You like it?”

“I love it. You look great. Beautiful. My beautiful night owl.” I fit my hand to the contour of his cheek. His eyes shone with happiness … and something a little darker.

He resumed kissing my neck, sucking hungrily on my bare throat. I moaned into the night. I was so right, I thought—I was going to get f*cked against my car. But Matt was barefoot. And Laurence was in the car. And there was food, and—

“Your skin tastes so f*cking good,” Matt whispered. He dragged his teeth over my jaw. The way his tongue touched my neck … the way he pulled my body against his, forcing me to straddle his thigh … I groaned.

Through my coat, through Matt’s thin lounge pants, I felt his erection trapped between us. Oh, Lord.

“B-bunny … in the car,” I panted.

“Hm? You want it in the car?” Matt wedged me against the door. It felt like a sheet of ice. “How about against the car? Right here.”

“No, Laurence. Laurence. He’s in the car.”

Laughter overtook me, fueled by happiness and relief. Matt started to laugh, too. We were helpless with it, sagging against one another and the car.

And God, if it wasn’t heaven to see Matt laugh like that.

“Well, I’m not horny or anything.” He rubbed his face. “Goddamn, Hannah. I missed you so much.” He kissed my mouth. He slowed it down, rocking against me and teasing my tongue with his. I moaned and clung to him.

“Mm, birders … if you start moaning like that. Shhh.” He silenced me with a finger and peered into the car. “You really brought him. Crazy girl.”

“He missed you.” I grinned. I couldn’t take my eyes off Matt. With his black hair, he looked like a rascally Nate. Maybe he’d lost a pound or two, but I’d expected worse—an emaciated Matt with a limp and a chunk missing from his leg.

My relief swerved toward disappointment. Matt looked just fine. Gorgeous, strong, passionate—the same old Matt. He wasn’t wasting away without me. I guess I wasn’t wasting away without him, either. At least, not on the outside.

“What is it?” Matt caught me staring. He smiled uncertainly.

“Nothing.” I smiled back at him. He had the back door open and was working Laurence’s cage off the seat.

“Nothing, huh?” He returned to me. He slid a hand under my coat and got a handful of my bare ass. I squeaked. His eyes widened. “What … are you wearing?” Matt tried to get a look.

I tugged down my coat. “Inside!”

With a laugh, I broke away and headed toward the cabin. The food would keep in the car. The night was like an icebox.

Matt followed with the rabbit cage.

“Ah … wait!” he called.

I giggled and flew into the cabin. Hot air enveloped me. It smelled of cinnamon and pine and … something burnt. I wrinkled my nose. My eyes adjusted to the firelight. Votive candles glowed in a misshapen heart formation on the dinner table.

On the far side of the room, a huge spruce slumped against the corner. From it emanated the powerful scent of pine. A bit of ribbon drooped around the tree’s middle.

Either I felt hysterical or this was seriously funny, because I found myself hugging my belly and fighting new waves of laughter.

Matt backed into the cabin. He hefted Laurence’s cage and kicked snow from his pants. “Let me explain.” He slid the cage onto the coffee table. He was half laughing, half crooning to the terrified rabbit. “Hey, little guy. It’s okay. Too hot for you? You’re too fat, is what it is.”