I stared at his glorious backside as he walked away. Even in the hazy early-morning light, I could see the fine, cut muscles of his back.
ON THE WAYto the airport, I fell asleep in the back of the cab with my head on Matt’s shoulder. “Wake up, baby. We’re here.” Matt looked at his watch. “Shit, we gotta hurry.”
He pulled his bag and my small rolling suitcase from the trunk. We sailed through the check-in line, and before I knew it, we were boarding the plane. I sat in the middle seat and Matt had the window. I was asleep on his shoulder again before we even took off.
About halfway through the flight, there was a little turbulence that woke me up. Matt was asleep with his headphones on. I made my way to the bathroom, and by the time I came back, Matt had ordered us both Bloody Marys. He looked up at me, eyes beaming, as I scooted in toward him.
“Gracie,” he said, handing me a plastic cup.
“Matthias,” I replied. There was a current of electricity in the air between us.
“I got you a double.”
“I’ve never had one before,” I said, buckling myself in. “But I’ll try anything once.”
I took a sip and was immediately surprised by how much I liked the spicy and salty tomato flavor. “You can’t even taste the alcohol.”
He laughed. “That’s the point.”
I turned my head to look Matt in the face. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his brownish black hair was sticking out in every direction. Somehow he still looked gloriously sexy. He took a sip, looked over at me, and grinned all the way up to his eyes. “Good, huh?” His voice was low and just rough enough to send shivers down my spine to the space between my legs.
“Uh-huh,” I said, breathlessly. I thought about what Mattand I had done hours before and what that meant for us... what that made us.
As if he could read my mind, his expression changed and his smile faded. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I was okay—happy, even, and bubbling with anticipation—but I still felt a tiny bit of trepidation. Why? My first time had been perfect—almost too good to be true. After hearing so many horror stories from girls in high school about how awkward, painful, and messy their first times were, how could I not memorialize what we had done? Every single moment with him had been amazing. He hadn’t pushed me and he’d been totally patient and respectful. He’d been gentle but in control, and then afterward he’d been sweet and attentive. All the thoughts and memories started swirling around in my head... the way his hands touched me under the covers of his tiny dorm-room bed... his mouth everywhere...
Matt watched as I stared, blankly. His eyes dropped down to my open mouth. He knew what I was thinking about. He blinked. “I love that mouth.”
Leaning in, I touched my lips to his, seeking comfort. We surrendered to the charged energy between us, almost like we were feeding it, trying to satisfy it. We kissed slowly and softly, our tongues dancing around, until I heard the unmistakable sound of an intentional throat-clearing. I looked over my shoulder to see the woman in the aisle seat, watching us intently. She seemed like a jovial southern woman, with lots of makeup and big, white-blonde hair.
Were we being rude twisting tongues in the cramped seats of an airplane? Probably, but I didn’t care. I was almost willing to strip naked right there, if Matt asked me to.I smiled at the lady. With a sort of wise “I get it” look, she smiled back and then rolled her eyes dismissively.
Matt looked worn out. He reached languidly for my hand and clutched it with his before resting his head back and closing his eyes. I reached for my drink from the tray table and sucked it down in three large gulps. It was delicious and the alcohol took effect almost immediately. I leaned against Matt’s shoulder again and fell asleep.
“I FORGOT TOask, how are we getting to your mom’s?”
Matt reached for my purple suitcase off the luggage carousel. “She’s coming to get us.”
When we reached the curb outside of LAX, a maroon minivan pulled up. “That’s her.”
Matt slid the large door open and threw his arms out to his sides. “Mama!”
She beamed with happiness. “Matthias, I’ve missed you! Get in here, you two.”
“Mom, this is Grace,” Matt said. I stood by, nervously as he loaded the luggage into the back.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Grace. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aletha.” She reached out and took my hand in hers. She had a subtle Greek accent and was small-boned, with exaggerated but beautiful features and the same perfect nose as Matt. Her dark hair was streaked through with gray, and she wore a long, thin scarf wrapped around her neck so many times that it looked like a high-necked sweater.
“Nice to meet you too, Aletha.”
Matt got into the front seat and I buckled up in the middle bench seat in the back. The third-row bench seatthat was normally in minivans had been replaced with art supplies, including a large metal pottery wheel.
“Matthias, I just picked up that wheel in the back for pennies. I need you to set it up in The Louvre; it’s too heavy for me.”
“Of course, Mom.”
She shot a glance his way and smiled radiantly. “No more Mama? Is my son too old to call me Mama?”
