Scarred Beautiful (20 page)

“What about you?” I ask, “Did you ever have anyone you wanted to be like?”

“That’s a no-brainer,” he replies arrogantly. “Definitely Tom Selleck. What boy didn’t want to be Magnum PI—the shades, the red Ferrari 308GTS, the women.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I remember him well. Definitely not the women I was interested in though. More like his abs.”

“Why that’s very shallow of you, Fran,” he admonishes. “What about you?”

“Wonder woman,” I respond, without even having to think twice, fond memories of pretending I was using my gold handcuffs on the playground to ward off bullets from David Mulligan, my fifth grade crush, flashing in my mind. “You know, the gold cuffs, the invisible jet, the lasso. Those items come in handy.”

“I can totally picture it.” He cackles, and I can feel his gaze over my shoulder burning a hole in my cleavage. “You have similar
attributes
.”

I clip his arm with my finger and he bumps me. “You’re a jerk.”

“Yeah, but I’m a cute jerk,” he taunts, smiling against my hair.

“Eh. You’re all right.”

He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Is that what you were thinking when I was kissing you earlier?” His warm breath caresses my neck and I mash my lips together to try to slow down the sudden quickening of my pulse.

Two can play this game. “Actually, I was thinking about all the laundry I’ll have to do when I get back home.” God, I love toying with him.

“Hmph. Then I might just have to kiss you again so I can wipe away all those mundane thoughts.”

Yes, please.

Matt takes me by surprise, tilting my head back and cupping my jaw, the gentle stroke of his thumb back and forth over my skin encouraging my eyes to flutter closed. He coaxes my lips open, our tongues twisting as he takes what he wants, and what I’m so ready to give him. We kiss slowly until he pulls away, his breath a light tickle on my lips, and he leans his head back on the chair leaving me completely flustered. I exhale a breath at the same time he does. At least I’m not the only one who’s off-balance, and the thought surprisingly makes me happy.

A stretch of silence passes between us before Matt breaks it. “You know what’s really strange, Fran…never mind,” he says quickly, but my nagging curiosity won’t let this go.

“Now you have to tell me. Come on, I want to know,” I whine, hoping I’m persuasive enough.

“It’s just that…I don’t know. We’ve only known each other for a few days, but it seems like—”

“Like what?” I prompt, suddenly desperate to know what he feels.

“Like…we’ve know each other for years,” he admits, his voice quieter at the end of his words.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same.” And I really do. “We’ll have to keep in touch once I go back home,” I blurt out, and after the words escape my mouth, I suddenly wish I could take them back.

“I’m going for a swim,” he says rather abruptly, and I nearly fall back on the lounger when he gets up.

I can’t say that I blame him. He just kissed me and I’m talking about leaving. My head starts to pound, my mind battling the conflict within, and I know it’s my fear talking, not me.

With a frustrated groan, I sit back and watch Peyton and Caleb splashing at one end of the pool and Matt doing laps at the other. He hasn’t looked over here once and I know I’ve upset him. Hell, I upset myself, too. Where’s that invisible jet when I need it? I wish I could just run away from all of this. He won’t want anything to do with me once he gets a glimpse of my scars and the depth of my insecurities, once he sees how damaged I am.

“No one will ever love you like I do, Franny…no one.”

You’re probably right, Daddy. Even though I hate you for it.

I blink my eyes open when I feel drops of cool water hitting my feet. It takes me a second to realize I’m not dreaming when I see Matt, his hair slicked back, water dripping down his tight abs before disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. My eyes gradually travel down his form and the smirk on his face tells me he likes it. His smile is back in full force.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he says, his lips twitching at the corners.

“Oh, I’m up. That water is quite cold.” I wiggle my toes to emphasize my point.

He flicks more water on me with his fingers, smiling devilishly. “Are you sure you don’t want to go in?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I state firmly.

Caleb and Peyton come up behind him, and I have to say, Caleb isn’t hard on the eyes either. He’s slightly taller than Matt, maybe six-foot-two, but with dark hair, olive skin and a rock hard body.

Caleb steps in front of Matt. “Fran, are you sure you don’t want to go for a dunk? Take your skirt off and I could easily lift you and dump you in.” He stands in front of the lounger and my hands feel clammy, my limbs suddenly heavy, panic weighing them down at the possibility of being exposed.

“Leave her alone, man,” Matt orders from behind him.

He grins and turns around to clasp Matt’s shoulder. “I’m only kidding, dude. Relax.”

Matt’s cell phone rings and he walks off to take the call. He’s gone for just a minute before coming back and addressing Caleb. “That was the SVP. We have to be at the office tomorrow. He’s leaving on a business trip and there are some issues with the Winkler building and he wants us to handle them.” He chuckles. “I guess I won’t be presenting tomorrow, either.”

“So I’m guessing we should probably call it a night because we need to do some research before tomorrow,” Caleb says, somewhat deflated that work is interrupting his social life.

“Yep,” Matt replies, peering over at me, and I try to hide the disappointment lurking in my eyes. I don’t want this night to end yet.

Matt towels himself off and slides a shirt over his head. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you to your room.” He takes my hand after I say goodbye to Caleb and Peyton. I have a feeling they won’t be calling it a night just yet.

He seems lost in thought and distant as we ride the elevator to the twenty-third floor. The only connection is his thumb, a gentle caress to my skin as he holds my hand. He hesitates when we get to my door. “So…I’m not going to see you tomorrow. I’ll be at the office, but maybe we can hang out tomorrow night.” He grins. “
If
you’re not busy.”

I shrug but my lips deceive me, curling into a smile. “I’m pretty sure I’m clear for tomorrow night.”

“Good,” he says, moving closer, removing his fingers from mine and placing his hand beneath my hair, grazing my neck and encouraging tingles to shoot down my spine. “I want to kiss you one more time before I say goodnight because if I don’t, when I get back to my room I’ll be wishing I had, and I don’t want to have any regrets with you, Fran.”

I can’t begin to understand what that means, but I know I want him to kiss me again…more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.

Our breaths become one when he nears, my skin bristling with anticipation, and I close my eyes and wet my lips, my mind reeling from his scent. “Fran, open your eyes,” he whispers, and I oblige, lost in a sea of blue as he drags my bottom lip between his teeth and gently sucks on it. A breathy moan slips out, spurring him to slide his tongue inside and seek out mine.

Our kiss isn’t hurried or frenzied, but slow and tender. He’s exploring my mouth and I find myself wanting him to take his time, to taste me, to savor me. Our tongues wrap around one another and then our arms follow, his chest brushing mine causes my nipples to instantly harden, and I whimper.

He smiles against my lips as he ends the kiss all too soon. “You make a lot of noises,” he says, licking at my bottom lip. “I like them…I’d like to hear more of them.”

Fucking hell. And I’d like to not have an orgasm in the hallway.

“I’ll see what I can do.” I wink, before he swats me playfully on the ass and takes off down the hall.

“Goodnight, sunshine.”

The door closes behind me and I sprint to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m hot, I’m horny, and it’s all Matt’s fault. He drives me absolutely insane. First I had to watch water dribble all over his flawless body and then he tells me he wants to hear me moan, well, those weren’t his exact words, but yeah.

“GAH!” I let out a loud, frustrated howl that thankfully only I can hear, and throw my shoes against the wall with a thud, before ripping off my dress and plunging into the drawer for Matt’s shirt. I’m probably making matters worse but I don’t care. If I can’t have him wrapped around me, his t-shirt is the next best thing.

I stumble over to the chair and dump my purse, unfazed by all the crap that comes flying out until I see my cell phone. Scooping it up, I type in my password to unlock the screen and send Peyton a text.

Come to my room when you can
.

Within less than five minutes, there’s a light rapping on the door and in she walks, the words spilling out of my mouth before she can even sit down.

“All right.” I begin pacing around the room, my hands on my hips. “So, I like him, okay. I like him a lot…and yeah, I thought he was a tight-ass, but he’s not, and…I…I don’t know what to do. And…and you’re not saying anything!”

Peyton stands there, letting me ramble, a wide grin stretching across her face. “That’s because you’re talking and you’re really funny.”

I scrunch up my face at her, throwing my hands up in the air. “I’m not trying to be funny!” I shout. “I need help and you’re not helping!”

“Okay, okay.” She bites back a laugh. “Why do you have to
do
anything? Why not just go with it? Like you told me to do.”

“Because I’m afraid. Because….” I fling myself onto the bed. “I like him. Because…I want to have sex with him and I’m terrified.” Tears pour from my eyes and I’m helpless to even try to stop them, so I let them fall.

“Oh, sweetie.” She lies on her side next to me and props herself up on her elbow. “I know it’s scary but it’s obvious that Matt likes you, too, and I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that’s going to take away from that. But you know what, Fran? You’re never gonna know unless you take a risk and if it doesn’t pan out, then at least you’ll know one way or the other.” She pushes away some of the hair that’s stuck to my face. “Personally, I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit. He’s not a dick, Fran. However—” she belts out a laugh “—I’m sure he’s got a big one.”

I lift my face up, my mouth falling open before I giggle so hard my stomach starts to hurt. When my laughter subsides and I get a hold of myself, I tell her, “I’m sure he does, too. Those swim trunks were a dead giveaway.” I sit up and wipe my face with the sleeve of Matt’s shirt, covertly inhaling when it reaches my nose. “What about you?”

“I’m good. Just like we talked about before. I’m not thinking. I don’t have time for attachments right now, anyway. No matter how kick ass he is. So…I’m just gonna have fun, that’s all Caleb wants, anyway.”

“Fun. Right. That’s my theory, too.”

Peyton goes back to her room and the rest of my night is a total disaster. I toss and turn the entire time because not only is Matt invading my dreams, but now he’s on my mind when I’m awake, too. Finally at three in the morning, I throw off the covers and head into the bathroom, sprinkle some bubbles and take a nice, warm bath. After an hour in the tub and sleep still evading me, I take out my Kindle and become so entrenched in a story that before I know it, streaks of orange and pink are blanketing the sky just around the time I’m starting to feel sleepy. Setting the alarm for 7:30 a.m., I pull the covers over my head to block out the morning light when I hear what sounds like rustling outside my door. I slip off the bed and tug on a pair of shorts before traipsing over and clicking the handle, only to find an empty hallway. Something on the floor catches my eye and when I look down there’s a single powder pink rose with a hand-written note card that reads:

And there goes my theory, straight to hell.