Maybe Matt's Miracle(18)

Skylar



Goodness gracious, he’s handsome. Matt’s wearing a gray T-shirt and jeans, and his hair is pulled back with a rubber band. He’s so tall that I have to tip my head to look up at him. He grins down at me. He’s breathing a little hard, and I have to admit I am, too.

“How was your day?” he asks. The elevator dings beside us, and we step inside. He hitches his hip against the rail and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

I ran out of the apartment because I was a little overwhelmed with emotion. It’s pitiful that a kid can make me lose my tight grip on reality just by being nice to me. But when Seth grabbed me and told me he was worried about me being late, I realized that I’m part of a family, and like the Grinch who stole Christmas, my heart swelled to twice its size. Then it cracked and my eyes filled up with tears and I had to get out of there before I lost my shit.

I swipe my fingertips beneath my eyes and smile a watery smile at Matt. I wish he had given me a few minutes to myself, but it’s too late now. I get to look like an idiot in front of an attractive man.

Who am I kidding? He’s hot as hell. And I’m about to start sobbing. Why is it that I get all teary every time this man is around?

“Sky?” he asks quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I croak. I clear my throat because there’s a lump the size of Texas in it.

He walks toward me and touches my chin with gentle fingers, tipping my face up to his. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because I’m a girl,” I squeak out, like that’s an excuse.

“Liar,” he says. He cups my face with his palm, his fingertips tickling the skin in front of my ear, brushing back and forth.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” I say.

“Try me,” he tosses back.

“No.” I sniffle. I square my shoulders. “I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.”

The doors open on the lower level, and we step out, but instead of walking toward the front doors, he takes my hand and tugs me with a quick jerk into the stairwell. He closes the door and sits down on the lowest step. He pats the spot beside him. “Take a break for a second.”

I gingerly sit down next to him. He scoots closer until his hip touches mine. I scoot away from him, but he scoots even closer. I look up, and I can’t keep from grinning at him. “You’re in my space,” I warn.

“I like being in your space. I kind of want to be all up in your space,” he says, his voice teasing and playful. But then he pats his shoulder. “God didn’t give me broad shoulders just hold up my T-shirts.” He uses his hand to push my head onto his shoulder. He’s quiet for a moment, but then he says, “Let me take some of your burden, Sky. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He sits quietly and just breathes. He doesn’t say anything more. I sit there and take in the scent of him. It’s woodsy and manly and clean. It’s Matt, and I like it. I don’t want to cry anymore. I want to climb into his lap and kiss him. “Oh God,” I moan.

“Nope. I’m just Matt,” he says with a chuckle.

I punch his shoulder playfully. He pretends to fall to the side, but he pops right back up, getting even more in my space.

“Is this about your boyfriend?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head. I had almost forgotten about Phillip. “No,” I start. But I can’t get the words together. “Never mind.”

He sits quietly, and then he starts to whistle. He’s not letting me off without an explanation.

“It’s just that I never had a family.” There I said it. Now he can pity me. “So when Seth was worried, not just about his sisters, but about me too, it made me feel a little emotional.” I shrug. It sounds even more stupid now that it’s out of my mouth. “That’s all. I know it’s stupid.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just nods.

“I just am having a hard time finding my place in this situation. But I think I’m finding it, and it feels good.”

He arches his brow. “So, that was a good cry?” he asks.

“That was a very good cry.” A grin tugs at the corners of my lips even though I’m still feeling really emotional.

“Okay,” he says with a nod. He pats his shoulder. “You want to cry on me some more? I kind of like having you touch me.” He grins and opens his arms in invitation. “I’m really good at hugs, too.”

I bite my lower lip, trying not to grin.

“I’ll pretend it’s a chore if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll even groan out loud.”

This time I laugh. I can’t help it. He’s so damn sweet.

“Is that a no?” he asks, deadpan.

“I’m not usually this emotional,” I say.

He shrugs. “All women say that. It usually precedes an episode of batshit craziness.”

“Are you calling me crazy?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “Definitely not.” He smiles. “There are a lot of words I would call you. Crazy isn’t one of them.”

Now I’m intrigued. “Do tell.”

“You’re f*cking gorgeous as hell,” he says. His eyes drag up and down my body.

Heat creeps up my cheeks.