Young Lies (Young Series Book 1) (36 page)

I don’t understand what happened. In the six months that I’ve lived here with him, we’ve had minor disagreements—mostly caused by two incredibly stubborn people who are the ones disagreeing—but nothing that’s even gotten close to this level. The worst part is that I have no idea how to go about fixing it. Aside from Matthew, I have no real experience in relationships and up until now, he’s been incredibly patient with me. Now he’s treating me as though I’m an inconvenience. Swiping my eyes, I crawl into bed with the hope sleep might make things seem better in a couple hours.

-------------o-------------

I wake to light tapping on my bedroom door and slowly open my eyes. It’s dark outside which means I slept much longer than I’d intended and realize someone has been in here with me to remove my socks and shoes, and to cover me with a blanket. For a few moments I’m confused since my memory tells me Matthew is still out of town. Then I remember he returned today and the way he completely ignored me. Suddenly the warm, fuzzy feelings I had at the thought that my sweet, loving boyfriend had tucked me into bed are long gone.

“What?” I groan when the knocking on the door persists.

The door cracks open fractionally and I see Leo poke his head inside. “Hey, sorry for waking you,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” I tell him grudgingly, pushing the blankets away from my body and throw my legs over the side of the bed. “What’s up?”

Leo opens the door further. “Matt sent me up. He wants me to ask if you’ll join him for dinner.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why the hell would he ask you to ask me?” I say incredulously. “He can’t do it himself?”

Leo shrugs uncomfortably, clearly not pleased to be put in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. “I know he’s being an asshole right now, Sam, but just give him a chance to make it up to you. He spent the last ten days doing nothing more than moping around and muttering about how much he missed you. And you can believe that or not, but for as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like this over a girl. He might have shit ways of showing it sometimes, but he’s crazy for you.”

Listening to a man who I rarely hear more than a couple dozen words at a time from telling me Matthew does love me and wants to show me resonates a little louder than it would if Matthew was up here telling me the same things. “Okay,” I say resignedly. “Where is he?”

Relief evident, Leo gives me a rare smile and wink, telling me Matthew is down at the dock before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Sighing and groaning, I throw myself back onto the bed, pulling the pillow over my face in order to let out a very therapeutic scream without having to worry about someone rushing in to see who’s attacking me. A few minutes later, I get up, changing from my yoga pants and tank top to t-shirt and jeans, since Leo didn’t give me any indication that I should dress in any specific way, grab one of Matthew’s sweatshirts that is about four sizes too big for me, and head outside through the backdoor. Since the sun’s gone down, the temperature has dropped significantly and I suddenly wonder whether Matthew has lost his mind for wanting to do whatever he wants to do out here as opposed to someplace warm. Like inside the house.

As I approach the dock, my heart rate speeds and my breath catches in my chest. Matthew is standing beside his boat, hands clasped in front of him as he watches my every move. I’m glad I didn’t go for anything more formal clothing-wise as he himself is dressed simply in jeans, a t-shirt, and his trademark leather jacket. His hair is messy, his eyes are bright, and a smile is growing on his face the closer I get.

“Did you enjoy your nap?” he asks quietly when I stop several feet from him.

Hugging myself, I nod silently.

He sighs, closing the distance between us. I stiffen as he reaches out to run his hands up and down my arms. “I owe you one hell of an apology,” he tells me softly, looking deeply into my eyes. “And even that probably isn’t enough. I haven’t treated you very well over the last few weeks and as I’ve told you over and over throughout the last year, you deserve the very best of everything. That includes me. I don’t want to give you excuses for my behavior, because they won’t do anything to make up for it. But I do love you, Samantha. I want you in my life and I never want to lose you.”

His words affect me immediately, though I try to hide it, not wanting him to know how close I am to giving in and throwing myself at him. “Why didn’t you call me at all while you were gone?” I ask quietly. “I spent the entire time wondering whether you were going to come home at all or if you did, whether you were going to ask me to leave...”

A troubled expression appears in his eyes. “Oh, Sam...” Without hesitating to see if I’d be receptive, he pulls me into his arms, holding me closely and tightly. “Please don’t ever think that,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I should have. When it comes down to it, I think we’re both way too stubborn when we argue. I suppose I was waiting on you to call and apologize while you were here doing the same thing here.” He grins briefly. “We’ll get this right at some point. But in the meantime, I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

Resting my head against his chest, I find my shoulders lightening in relief. Despite all my thoughts over the last ten days, I didn’t realize how concerned I’d been that this argument might be the end of us altogether. That would have undoubtedly broken my heart into a million pieces and I don’t think I’d ever recover. Melodramatic? Possibly. True? Absolutely.

Still, we need to address the cause of the argument or it will just keep coming back at us. “I still want to see my family for Christmas,” I whisper nervously into his shirt. “And I have every intention of seeing Tom while I’m there. I know you don’t like him and I know you won’t understand, but he’s been my friend since we were babies and I’m not just going to write him off because you and I are together.”

He nods, sighing as he presses a kiss to my head. “I know,” he replies. “And I do understand. Apparently when it comes to you, I’m a little insecure.”
I pull away from him, expecting to see him grinning or his eyes shining to giveaway that he’s teasing me. In the time that I’ve known Matthew Young, he has never given me any indication that he even knows the meaning of insecure, let alone that he actually experiences it. I thought I was the insecure one in this relationship. The only one who couldn’t possibly understand why someone like him would want to be involved with someone like me.

When I first arrived here nearly a year ago, my knowledge of how the world operates consisted of what I learned on the farm. I didn’t know how to interact with anybody from high society. The most formal event I ever attended in my town was the annual barn hoedown where the best dressed person in attendance was wearing jean overalls, a flannel shirt, and a cowboy hat. I was so far out of my league and terrified that I would embarrass Matthew if he ever took me to one of the parties he described to me during our repeated phone conversations. The one time I voiced my concerns out loud, that I could never measure up to the women he came into contact with on a daily basis, he laughed. He then told me the main differences between me and those women were that I actually had a real personality, that I’m smart, and funny. And unlike those women, I don’t need to spend hours in front of a mirror applying makeup to my face and fixing my hair. I could wear his sweatshirts and sweatpants and never brush my hair, and I would still be more beautiful than those women. I still think he’s full of shit—I’ve seen those women—but because he believed that about me, true or not, I feel better about getting dressed up and primped before he took me somewhere. Especially the first time I walked down the stairs in a dress that cost more than my brother’s new car and high heels in which I could see myself falling and breaking my neck, and I saw Matthew’s jaw drop and his eyes widen to the point I thought they might actually fall out. We very nearly skipped the party we were preparing to leave for that night...

Looking at him now, though, his face is dead serious and that more than anything makes me more certain than ever in our relationship. “So I guess that means you know how I felt when I heard you talking to your ex?” I whisper.

His arms stiffen around me, and he rests his chin on my head. “That’s not what you think it was,” he whispered back. “I haven’t spoken to her but once since we broke up and the phone call you overheard was her informing me that she accepted a job at my father’s company. She wanted to tell me herself to keep me from having a meltdown if we ever crossed paths. Once she was done telling me that, she tried engaging me in general conversation and I shut her down. I want nothing to do with her, Sam. Not after what she did to me. And though logically I know you’d never do to me what she did, deep down the thought of you spending time with your childhood boyfriend who, chances are, you would have married if you hadn’t met me makes me anxious beyond definition. I trust you, Samantha, with my life and my heart. And I want you to trust me in the same way. You can’t do that if I’m hiding things from you. So from here on out, I swear I won’t keep things from you. Okay?”

I’m sure there’s something I should say to him, but everything that comes to the tip of my tongue seems like something that will just lengthen our argument, and I’m really tired of arguing with him. Instead of words, I push myself on my tiptoes, sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck. Barely registering the look of surprise on his face, I press my lips to his gently. Once his surprise wanes, he’s kissing me back like a man who’s been away from his love for far too long. Our tongues frantically exploring the other’s; our lips opening and closing like we’re trying to breathe each other in. We’re pressed so closely together that I can feel every single one of his muscles moving and the evidence of his arousal against my belly. And I know if we keep this up, we won’t be getting through with whatever it is he’s got planned this evening.

Apparently the same thought goes through his mind. He pulls away from me with a reluctant groan, resting his forehead on mine. “Keep that up and all my plans will be for nothing,” he tells me, grinning.

“Is that supposed to deter me?” I ask with my own grin as my hands slide from his neck down to his backside, slipping into his back pockets.

Huffing a laugh, he gently removes my hands and leads me down the dock. “I promise there will be time enough for that later,” he says huskily. “But first, we need to eat.”

On the boat, I sit behind Matthew at the wheel as he drives us into the middle of the lake until we have an unobstructed view of the moon. Very much to my surprise, he disappears below deck for a few minutes, then reappears with a large tray of silver-dome covered plates and places them on a table he’s set up, grinning proudly at me and my questioning raised eyebrow.

“Next you’re going to tell me you learned how to become a gourmet chef while you were gone,” I say skeptically.

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “No,” he admits. “This is all courtesy of Mrs. Bonnie Harris. I didn’t think it would help my case by attempting cooking myself and giving you food poisoning for three days.”

I smirk as he pulls out my chair and sits across from me. Bonnie has outdone herself. She’s prepared us a grilled chicken dinner with baked potatoes and bread rolls that very nearly overshadow the entire meal. “I could live off these things,” Matthew groans as he has his fourth roll. “So good.”

Throughout our meal, we fall back into our normal routine of flirtatious banter and I forget altogether that we’d been arguing or that I ever thought he might end our relationship for good. Not for the first time, I consider what it would be like to spend the rest of my life with this man. I want to see us grow old together and watch our children and grandchildren grow up. I want him to be the only man I’ll ever be with. I want to be the center of his world, as he is for mine. We haven’t really considered our future together seriously. There’ve been conversations when we’re lying together in bed late at night fantasizing, but apart from that, I don’t know whether that’s something he wants. I mean, I would hope I’m not just some fleeting fancy until he meets someone more suitable, and I really don’t think that’s how he sees me; I make a mental note to bring it up at a later time, when we aren’t in the middle of an incredibly sweet, romantic evening.

As we start on our dessert, Bonnie’s infamous triple-chocolate cake, a boom in the distance catches my attention. I look up, startled, and grin as I see fireworks in the sky. “Am I to take it you had no idea there would be fireworks tonight when you planned this little date?” I tease.

He grins back at me, but doesn’t respond as he stands and holds his hand out to me. “Do I really have to answer that?” he asks, pulling me up to him. “Want to watch?”

“That’s a stupid question,” I mutter, my attention already fully captured by the fireworks. I don’t know what the occasion is, but that’s the last thing in the world I care about right now, especially when Matthew comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, holding me against him, and rests his chin on my shoulder. The fireworks shoot off in a vast array of color and shape, and it’s made better by the reflection in the water. Fully entranced, it takes me a few moments to realize they’ve stopped, though now I’m waiting for the grand finale.

“Well, that’s a gyp,” I grumble when there’s no further light or sound.

Matthew’s chuckle rumbles from his chest to my back. “Just wait,” he whispers against my ear.

A fleeting thought that Matthew has somehow arranged this flits through my mind, but is gone just as quickly when it looks like whoever is setting them off has lit every last firework in the state of New York—everything from Catherine Wheels to Roman candles. I know I’m grinning like an idiot, but I don’t care; this is without a doubt the best fireworks display I’ve ever seen in my life—