Matt turns and smiles at me before going back to the meal. “Just a simple alfredo. There wasn’t much else in the way of ingredients. I think Dad forgot we need meat on hand, too.”
“Who kept the food fresh if no one knew this place was here?”
“Me and Dad. We’d sneak away every so often and restock. Nights that you and your dad were off duty. With the other guards, it was easy enough to slip their watch and come out here really quick.” He chuckles and turns off the stove. “Not with you two, though. Fuck, I don’t think I ever gave you the slip in all the years we’ve known each other.”
“Nope.” I push off the wall and start opening cabinets in search of dishes to set the table while Matt finishes up.
“Yeah. Good times.”
As soon as I have two plates put down, Matt serves dinner.
Fuck, I’d almost forgotten what an amazing cook Matt is. Since his dad insisted on paid staff for just about everything, Matt never got much of a chance to make his own meals. Everything was prepped and cooked for him, often before he even got home.
“This is delicious, Matt. How have you been keeping your skills up? Tito didn’t let you cook, did he?”
“Not really, but it’s kind of like riding a bike, I guess. You just get back on and go.”
That makes sense. If I’d paid attention in home ec, I might’ve gained the same skills, but I was too busy watching over Matt. Fuck, I missed out on a lot in school by watching over him. I guess I never realized how much of my life revolves aroundhim until tonight. Everything I know or don’t know is related to keeping Matt safe.
Can I learn how to make him happy, too?
We eat in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate the future. While I’ve always loved Matt—maybe not the same way he loves me, but I love him—I never thought about what that meant. He was always out of reach, someone I served. How do you go from that to … more?
I guess the best way to figure things out, and to take my mind off Emily, is to talk about it.
“So … patron saint of horny tops, huh?”
Matt chokes on his food, coughing and sputtering at my sudden question. “I thought I was the saint of brothers to you,” he says once he’s recovered enough to speak. His tone is a strange mix of shock and sarcasm.
Shit. That probably stung when I said it. I wasn’t thinking at the time.
“Well, that might have been some leftover brain damage from the explosion talking. I mean, yeah, we grew up together, but we’re not actual brothers.”
Reaching across the table, Matt pats my hand gently. “Nice try. You meant what you said.”
“Doesn’t mean I was thinking straight when I said it.”
“Oh, you were thinkingstraight, all right.” He leans back in his chair, tipping it up on its rear legs. Was that a slight wince when he did that? “It’s okay if you’re not feeling what I feel, Aron. You’ve had a shit night, and you’ve got a lot of trauma to process. I shouldn’t have even said what I said. That’s too much pressure to put on you right now.”
“This isn’t a case of peer pressure. It’s … fuck, I don’t know what it is. New opportunity? You’ve been one hundred percent off limits my entire life. I never let myself think that way. Whatwould’ve been the point? I’d just be pining for something I can’t have. Can you imagine?”
His lips twist into a wry grin. “Gee, what would that be like?”
Oh. Right. I suppose if anyone knows about pining, it’d be Matt.
“Okay, point made. But seriously, between losing Emily and the baby and now this … I don’t even know how I feel. About their deaths, about Tito and Dad being gone, about you. Everything is all jumbled in my head.”
Matt raises a brow. “Is it jumbled anywhere else?”
“What do you mean?”
He stands up and moves a few steps to the side, so the table isn’t blocking my view. “What do you feel when you look at me? Not emotionally. Physically.”
Oh, Jesus. I can’t believe he’s asking that. I avert my eyes away from the obvious without thinking, avoiding the bulge in his sweats. Have I seen Matt’s cock before? Of course. He’s not exactly shy. But I’ve never considered how the sight of it makes me feel, how my body wants to react to it.Doesmy body want to react to it?
I risk a peek at Matt, and the answer is not only immediate but also blatantly obvious in these damn pants.
Matt glances down at my lap and nods. “Okay, so that question is out of the way. Whether or not you’re too deep in mourning to pursue this is something else, but at least we know this much.”
