Last Light

“Matt, really,” I whispered against his mouth, “I’m so touched. I didn’t expect any of this.” I sat on his lap while I opened the present from the condo. “Did you wrap this?” The gold paper was creased like origami; the black ribbon wound around the box just so.

“Nah, I had it wrapped. I wrapped those—” He nodded toward my other gifts. “Which is why they looked like lumpy pillows.”

I laughed and kissed his chin. Lumpy pillows was putting it nicely.

“What can I say? I’m domestically challenged.” Matt lifted my shirt and stroked my bottom while I opened the box. I shivered. Absence doesn’t make the heart go yonder or grow fonder. Absence makes people horny as fuck.

Nestled in the box on a little satin cushion were a pair of silver earrings and a matching bracelet and ring. Delicate owl-shaped charms accented the jewelry. Rhinestones winked in the silver. I traced a finger over them. My night owl …

I kissed Matt’s chest. “They’re beautiful.”

“So you don’t forget about me.”

“Oh, please. I’ll never forget about you. Never.”

We kissed again and got tangled up. Matt’s hands drifted under my shirt. He caressed my back and sides, gently at first and then with growing urgency.

I didn’t know if I could go another round, but Matt wasn’t pushing it. In fact, he only seemed to want to touch me.

I savored our kiss and moaned as he touched my stomach, my breasts, my thighs.

“So beautiful,” he sighed against my neck. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

I pushed my fingers through his thick black hair. “I feel the same way. I want to know you, Matt. I want to know you better.”

He sat back and his hands settled on my thighs. He gazed at me evenly.

“I hope you mean that in the biblical sense.”

I thwapped his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“What is this lately? You … feeling like you don’t know me.”

I tucked my head under his chin, avoiding his eyes. “Your memorial. Everyone at your memorial knew you better than I do.”

“Everyone at my memorial thought I was dead. I think you know more than they do.”

“Come on, I’m serious. You never talk about your parents, your brothers, your faith.”

Matt tensed beneath me. He slid me off his lap and stood. He began to pace beside the coffee table, watching the fire.

“What faith?” he said. “And what exactly do you want to know about my family?”

“Nate said you’re religious.” I fidgeted with my new earrings.

“Oh, you know me, a regular churchgoer.” Matt scowled. “Nate has a lot to say lately.”

“He said you believe in God.”

“So what if I do?”

“Matt, I’m not attacking you.”

Matt ranged over to the fire and I watched his back. Hmmm, I loved the way his spine disappeared into his low-slung pants.

“What do you want to know about Nate? Nate is Nate. Beautiful home, beautiful wife, beautiful kids. And he’s the only doctor. Our parents would be proud.”

“He seems happy. With the kids and all…”

Matt glanced over his shoulder at me. I dropped my gaze.

“Kids, huh? Is that what you’re driving at?”

“I’m not driving at anything. Chill. God.” I held up my hands and Matt frowned. “You’re being way feistier than this conversation warrants, do you realize that?”

He glared at the fire.

“I don’t remember my parents,” he said.

I knew that was a lie—or I had a hunch it was—but I let Matt keep rambling.

“Seth, there’s no love lost between us.” He waved a hand. “When I went through all my bullshit, you know, drinking and partying and … rehabbing … Seth wanted nothing to do with me. He saw the toll my behavior took on our aunt and uncle. He thought I’d be the death of them. Hell, I was almost the death of myself, but he didn’t seem to give a fuck.”

I began to crumple wrapping paper. I scanned the cabin for a trash can. Wow, had I ever dispatched the happy mood. Here I was, wanting to “talk” and get to know Matt, and now I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Matt was brusque. The conversation was morbid.

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