Matthew is leaning against my car. The pain on his face is like a punch to my gut. He looks wrecked. His hair is a mess, as if he ran his fingers through it a hundred times today. His cheeks are pale, and his eyes are red-rimmed, as if he’s been crying.
I move instinctively, closing the distance between us, and wrap my arms around him.
“I’m so sorry, Matthew.”
His body is stiff, but he wraps his arms around me, squeezing tightly.
“She’s gone,” he whispers, his words barely audible. “Just… gone.”
“I’m so, so sorry, baby.”
There are no words that are going to make him feel better, so I don’t even try. I just hold him, my hands running up and down his back slowly.
“I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I didn’t want to even go and visit her, not after…Fuck!”
Pulling back, I cup his cheeks. “Hey, it’s not your fault. There is nothing you could have done.”
“I could have been here. Ishouldhave been here, but I left because that’s the only thing I’m good at—fucking shit up. Disappointing the people in my life.”
“You didn’t disappoint her,” I argue. He tries to shake his head, but I don’t let him. “She loved you, Matthew. All of you. You, Becky, and Chase were the bright spots in her life. She would hate to see you hurting like this, blaming yourself for something that was completely out of your control.”
His jaw flexes, eyes going dark. I skim my fingers over his cheeks, brushing away a lone tear.
“C’mon, let’s go home.”
Letting my hand fall, I take his in mine. He doesn’t try to protest when I open the passenger’s door and help him inside. His bike will have to stay here tonight, because I’m not sure he could drive himself back home in one piece. Closing the door, I walk around the hood, shooting a quick message to Becky to let her know Matthew is with me, and to give him tonight.
The drive home is quiet; the cab of the car filled with grief. I can feel Matthew pulling in on himself, but I don’t know what to do to stop it. How to help him.
Once we’re parked in front of the cottage, I get out and go to the passenger door. I extend my hand to him, and he takes it without a second thought. Together, we walk inside, the door shutting behind us with a softthud, cloaking us in darkness.
I turn around to face him. I lift my hand, my fingers skimming over his face.
He blinks, his dark gaze zeroing in on me.
“What do you need?” I whisper softly.
His throat bobs as he swallows. “You.”
Something dark and dangerous shines in his eyes. He won’t hurt me, not physically. But emotionally? It would be so easy for him to wreck me. But even that realization doesn’t change my mind.
My heart thunders inside my chest, my instincts telling me to run away, but my body… My body can’t resist his pull.
My mouth goes dry at the intensity in his gaze, tongue darting out to wet my lips. “You have me.”
Before I can blink, he grabs my hand and turns us around, my back pressing against the door as he pins my arms above me. “You shouldn’t say that. I don’t deserve you.”
“I don’t care.”
A low rumble comes up from his chest. “Trouble…”
“I. Don’t. Care,” I repeat softly, refusing to back down. Refusing to let him scare me away when I know he’s doing it on purpose. To prove to himself that he isn’t worthy.
“I can’t be gentle tonight.”
The warning in his words rings in the air as his grip on my wrists tightens.
Can’t.
