“Shannon’s not here,” he said, his eyes meeting mine over his laptop’s lid for a moment, and then refocusing on the screen.
I wasn’t sure what I expected from Matthew, but it certainly wasn’t dismissive indifference.
“I’m not looking for Shannon. I’m looking for you.”
He glanced up, his expression turning pinched, bitter. “What can I do for you now, Lauren?”
Okay, so he was pissed off at me. That was fair. We weren’t going to throw our arms around each other and let kisses speak all the apologies necessary and promise to work it out, and I probably deserved every sour scowl he tossed my way.
“I’m here because we have things to talk about,” I said.
“As you’ve pointed out already, it’s all been said.”
Why couldn’t he sit still, shut up, and let me tell him I felt the same things?
“It hasn’t, and I want to talk to you now,” I said, irritation creeping into my voice.
He closed his laptop and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze cool and appraising. “Really, Lauren? What is there to say? Maybe you could tell me about your busy schedule again, or how your life is too complicated to make plans more than three hours in advance? Why don’t you tell me how we’re forcing this, and I don’t meet your—”
“I fucking love you, Matthew!” I dropped my bag and advanced on him, and he shot up, sending his chair tumbling to the ground. “That’s what I’m here to say,” I said. “That I screwed up and I convinced myself it was one or the other, you or my school, and I was wrong. I can have as much as I want, whenever I want it, and I can make up the plan as I go. I just need you, and I finally understand now.”
We stood in the center of the small waiting room, his agitated glare burning memories of this moment into my skin. His breath, his heat, his scent—they surrounded me. I was trapped and confined, and exactly where I wanted to be.
But he wouldn’t say it back to me. He wouldn’t give me the three little words I craved, and this—thiswas karma.
“It scares me,” I said, my voice steady and strong while every cell in my body flew into fits of panic. “It scares me to want you like this, to need you, to be responsible for more than me when I can barely manage myself.” Staring at his tie, the green one with tiny pink tessellations, I debated whether I could wait much longer for his touch.
And then I remembered I didn’t need to wait for anything.
“It scares the hell out of me,” I said, my hand pressing against his tie, and up, over his chest and shoulder, around his neck. Knotty, corded muscles met my fingers. “But here I am.”
Matthew narrowed his eyes, his head inclined while I soothed the tension in his neck, and he stared at me for several heavy moments. “Is this because you want my cock in your mouth? I mean, it’s been a few weeks now. You must miss it.”
Laughing, I dropped my head to his chest and basked in the warmth of his arms when they closed around me.
But he still wasn’t saying it.
“I can’t force you to want this,” he whispered into my hair. “And I can’t wait for it to be convenient for you. I’ve tried, and I’ve failed, and I can’t do it again.”
Nodding I pulled back and met his gaze. “You understand how focused I am, how committed I am to my school, even if it drives you crazy, and you understand it because you’re the same way.”
“Committed is one word for it.”
“That’s not changing, for either of us, and if you’re okay with take-out and Netflix as our primary source of entertainment, I know I can do better at committing tous.”
“Do better as in…?” He bent to meet my eyes, his brows furrowed. “You’re going to stop waiting half an hour to respond to my texts? Or you’re going to make plans before sunset? Or you’d consider moving in together?”
He was tentative, and that irritated scowl still haunted his features, but he was making his way back to me.
“I was thinking your place, but I want to bring a lot of my furniture. And art. And pillows. You need more color, and personality. And I don’t understand why everything in your kitchen is white.”
Matthew’s kiss drained the darkness lingering from the past weeks out of my body. I urged him forward, wanting to feel him pressed against me.
“So bossy,” he murmured against my lips.
“You’re a caveman,” I laughed. “I have to keep up.”
Okay, so I’d wait until he was ready to say it again. I knew a few things about waiting for what I wanted.
