Maybe Matt's Miracle(33)

“I threw up all over my bed,” she says so quietly that I can barely hear her.

Oh, hell, what am I supposed to do now? “Did you wake Seth up?” I ask.

She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. “His door was locked.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” I say. I take her sticky little hand, and Matt gets up with us. “Sorry,” I say to him.

“No worries.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say. I wince because I feel bad.

“I’ll help you,” he says. “Why don’t you put her in a bath while I change the sheets?” He starts toward the linen closet and rummages through the stacks of sheets there, until he pulls out a set he’s happy with.

“You want to help?” I ask.

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Of course.”

If I wasn’t in love with him before, I’m a lot closer now. He’s not even kissing me, yet I have a thousand butterflies taking flight in my belly.

I lead Mellie to the bathroom, help her get cleaned up, and we put on fresh pajamas. When I come out of her room after tucking her back in, I find Matt at the washing machine starting a load of dirty sheets. Seth’s door opens, and he stick his head out.

“What’s wrong?” Seth asks.

“Mellie got sick,” I whisper.

“Is she all right?” He goes into her room and comes out a minute later, after checking on her. “Sorry I didn’t help with that,” he says sheepishly.

“It’s okay. We handled it. Go back to bed,” I suggest.

“Must have been something she ate. She doesn’t have a fever.” Seth doesn’t look worried.

It was probably the five cookies I let her have after dinner. Seth told me it was a bad idea and I didn’t listen. “Must have been. Go back to bed.”

Seth looks from me to Matt and back and raises his brow. “Okay,” he says with a grin.

“Shut it,” Matt grumbles playfully. Seth nods and goes into his room, closing the door.

“He never locks his door,” I say, trying to figure out why he might do that.

Matt grins. “Sometimes teenage boys need to lock their doors,” he says. “Trust me, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and leads me back to the couch.

“Oh, you think he was doing that?” I ask. I’m still whispering.

“It’s a good guess,” he says with a quiet laugh.

“See,” I say throwing my hands up, “I know nothing about children.”

“He’s a teenage boy,” he says. “You can always assume that first.”

“How do you know so much?”

“Four brothers,” he explains. “Remember? Not to mention that I’m a guy. We do that.” He grins.

“You mean when you were younger.” I watch his face closely.

His grin gets even bigger. “And older.”

My face flushes with heat. He just smiles big and taps the end of my nose with his finger.

I look down at my shirt. “I kind of smell like vomit,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says. “I kind of do, too.” I saw him wash his hands after changing the sheets, and I did, too, but still. It’s not very sexy.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I was here.”

Matt reaches for the tail of his shirt and pulls it over his head. He’s wearing a sleeveless white T-shirt under his other shirt, so he’s not naked, but this one shows a lot more skin. A lot more tattoos. A lot more muscles. Matt is big and broad but tall and lean. I let out a dreamy little sigh.

“Can I stay for a while?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, but I need to change.” I get up and go change into a long t-shirt and some sleep shorts. I come back out, and Matt whistles softly, staring at my legs.

“Remind me to have her throw up on you every time we make out on the couch,” he says.

I smile. I can’t help it. I sit down next to him, and he pulls me to his side. Then he lies down so that I’m draped across him. My hip is tucked between him and the back of the couch.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” he says quietly. He pulls my head down to his chest, and I press my face against it. His hand settles on the back of my head, and he starts to stroke down the length of my hair.

“Then don’t go,” I say quietly.

He doesn’t. He just threads his fingers into my hair and drags them down my back, over and over, until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep on his chest.

I wake up the next morning tucked into my own bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. I sit up and look around. Beside me on the pillow is a note. I open it up and read.

Are you in love with me yet?





Matt



I look toward the clock on the wall again, and Paul scowls at me. “You counting the minutes?” he asks.

Yeah, I kind of am. “No.” I scoff.

Paul just rolls his eyes. “What time is the match?” he asks.

“Seven,” I murmur as I clean up my station. “You want to go?”

Pete steps out from the back where he was doing a piercing. “I want to go,” he says. He sends the guy he just pierced to Friday, who takes his money and sends him out the door.