“What’s this from?” I whisper.
His jaw ticks, but his voice stays even. “Old surgery.”
I file that away for later because I can hear there’s more to it, but tonight isn’t the night to dig. Tonight is not about his past. It’s about whatever we’re creating right now, one breath at a time. He grabs my hand gently and moves it to his chest.
“You look...” I search for the right word. Not hot, even though he is. Not handsome, though that too. “Solid, like one of those guardian statues they put at the gate of a grand estate. Only with better abs.”
He chuckles, low and a little disbelieving. “That’s a new one.”
Has he been with lots of women? Of course, look at him.
My hands skim down his chest, there’s a dusting of hair there, and then around to his back. His skin is warm, alive under my palms, muscles flexing when I grip him a little tighter.
He lets his head fall back for a second, eyes closing like he’s trying not to explode. When he looks back at me, his gaze darkens.
“Your turn,” he says softly.
My heart slams into my throat. “My turn for what?”
His fingers toy with the hem of my shirt now, barely grazing the sensitive skin at my waist. It sends a shiver arrowing up my spine. “I want to see you. But only if you want that too.”
Brooks never asked if Iwantedanything. It was always assumed that whatever was happening to my body was for the guy. That my job was to be pliant, quiet, and grateful.
I lick my lips and nod. “Like, naked?” He’s seen me inbathing suits and skimpy cheer outfits, but this...butt-naked with my brother’s best friend. It's a whole other level of nerves popping inside me.
“As much as you want me to see.” His eyes soften with something that makes my chest ache. Reverence. That’s the only word I can come up with.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says, voice calm even though I can feel his pulse racing where my hands rest. “Arms up.”
I lift my arms, and he peels my shirt off slowly, like I’m the most beautiful present under the Christmas tree. The one with the glittery gold bow with tails you pull to unwrap. Cool air hits my heated skin, and I shiver, hyperaware that I’m sitting on his lap in just my skirt and bra now.
He doesn’t lunge. He doesn’t grab. He just looks. His gaze travels over me, careful and thorough, like he’s memorizing every inch.
“Damn, Noelle,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’re beautiful.”
The words land so deep I feel them in my bones. I duck my head, heat flooding my face. “Brooks never…” I stop myself, folding my lips over my teeth.
Matt’s fingers lift my chin gently, making me look directly in his eyes. “Don’t compare,” he says quietly. “I promise I’m nothing like him.”
“I know.”
He studies me for another long, quiet beat, then his hands skim up my skin, slow and respectful, pausing any time my breath catches.
“You okay?” he asks again.
I nod. It’s a blur of heat and disbelief that I’m nearly naked with Matt. “Yeah. Feels… good.”
“Good is good,” he says, thumbs brushing along the line where fabric meets skin. “You tell me if anything doesn’t. We stop. No questions asked.”
I believe him. I believe him so much my core aches.
I want more. I want to know what all the fuss is about, the thing other girls whispered about in locker rooms like it was some secret club I’d never get access to. I want to understand my own body instead of pushing my feelings aside and just being there for the man, wondering why I don’t react the way I’m “supposed” to. Even though I’ve only had sex once with Brooks, it was his desires that were fielded.
When his fingers dip under my skirt’s waistband, his eyes silently ask for permission with an almost imperceptible nod.
“Please,” I say, surprising myself with how sure I sound.
