Thanks to Matthew.
I sat up in the chair I was lying back on and flicked my tongue around. It was sore, and I felt like I had something stuck in my mouth.
Matthew laughed. “You look funny doing that.”
“It feels weird. Have you ever had this done?”
“Yeah. For like, two years, but I took it out a few years back.”
Charles talked me through proper care procedures, and then Matthew was helping me up from the chair.
“Come on, Red, let’s get out of here. The night’s young, and we still have some wilding out to do.”
Once we were back in his car, he buckled his seat belt and turned toward me.
“You know? I didn’t think this through very well. We probably should’ve eaten before we stuck a rod through your tongue.” He chuckled.
“You tink?”
Because I couldn’t eat anything hot, and my tongue was starting to throb, we went to an ice-cream shop that also had food. I nibbled on an ice cream sundae, which felt amazing, while he grabbed himself a burger.
“This is delicious,” he said, biting into the juicy burger.
“You’re evil.”
He chuckled. “Hey. There are consequences to being the wild woman.”
I rolled my eyes obviously and placed another spoonful of vanilla ice cream on top of my tongue.
“What do you want to do when we leave here?” he asked, popping a crispy fry into his mouth.
I shrugged. “It’s up to you. You’re the one planning everything tonight.”
His eyes lowered. “I could always take you home if you want. I mean, I don’t want to take you home, but if your tongue is really bothering you ...”
“I’m not ready to go home.”
I couldn’t believe I said that, but it was the truth. Lilly was home, and Devin would be there, and being a permanent third wheel was no fun.
“You could always come back to my place?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” I deadpanned.
“I’m aware.”
“What will we do?” I slurred.
My tongue was starting to swell.
“Well, first we’ll put some ice on your tongue. Then we’ll watch some Netflix and chill?”
I laughed. “No Netflix and chill.”
“Fine. We’ll watch a movie and hang out. Better?”
“Much.”
It wasn’t smart to go home with a guy, but I felt like I could trust him to keep his hands to himself. Maybe it was poor decision-making on my part considering my past, but already I felt like I was starting to get to know him. I was gradually figuring him out, and what I was finding I was happy with so far. Matthew wasn’t a bad guy, and he wasn’t as much of a player as he thought he was.
He was a heartbroken man protecting his heart just as I was a broken woman protecting my body.
We finished our food and drove the few minutes to his place. I was expecting a luxurious place, considering the car he drove. It was obvious Matthew had money to blow. But I hadn’t expected him to live in something so glorious.
It was a historic Charleston house, tall and slender, the four stories hovered over the city like a menacing creature. The outside was gray with black plantation shutters and tall windows. Wraparound porches on each story supported by intricately carved beams and rails. I could imagine stepping out onto the top floor deck and looking out over the Atlantic coast.
It was gorgeous.
It spoke of memories and dreams of years gone by, of a time when things were simple and the world wasn’t wracked with the chaos.
We parked and stepped through the handmade wrought iron gate surrounding his place. I grinned, thinking how fortunate he was to have such a beautiful home.
The walkway was timeworn cobblestone surrounded by lush gardens that looked as if they had been planted and taken care of since the day the house was built, which I was sure was over a hundred years before.
“This is gorgeous, Matthew,” I said as I took the cobblestone walkway to the wide steps that went up to the glorious front porch.
There were rocking chairs and gas lamplights. And when I turned back toward his car, I could see we were also right across from the water.
“Thank you.”
He unlocked the front door and opened it for me to step through. The lights came on automatically, illuminating what was probably the most gorgeous space I had ever seen. A large antique fireplace centered on the wall had a massive window on each side with a view of the water across the street.
I stepped up to the window and took in the view.
“Really?” I asked, turning toward him with a raised brow. “People live this way?”
He chuckled. “Yes, really. It’s my home.”
We moved into the gourmet kitchen next, which had obviously been recently renovated. There was stainless steel everything as far as the eye could see mixed with white. It was crisp and clean as if no one ever ate or cooked in the space.
“This is … wow. This is beautiful,” I said in awe. “Do you even eat here?
He snorted. “Nope. It’s takeout all day, or I go out to eat.”
“But you’re so …” I stopped, waving my hand at his body.
“I’m so what?”
“Fit. You’re so fit.”
He moved closer, his eyes dipping to my lips. I backed away, my hips bumping into the marble island in the center of his kitchen.
“Have you been looking at my body, Red?”
I swallowed, my tongue feeling too fat for my mouth.
I shook my head, deciding that talking was starting to hurt too much.
“Are you lying to me?”
I put my head down, my cheeks feeling hot, but then I looked him in the eye and nodded.
His face lit up with a grin.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.
I nodded again.
“I look at your body, too.”
I frowned, my shoulders dropping at his words.
I hated my body.
I was too tall.
Too round.
Too … fat.
“And it’s all luscious and curvy. Sometimes I think about grabbing handfuls of you and squeezing. Your hips and thighs. Your gorgeous ass. And these,” he said, running a finger across my cleavage, “are fucking amazing. I can’t wait to see you naked.”
I was breathing hard. My body hummed from his praise, and I suddenly wished I had waited to pierce my tongue because all I wanted was for him to lean down and kiss me the way he had before.
With the courage he had just given me, I leaned up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. I couldn’t really kiss him the way I wanted, but at least I could feel his lips against mine.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, his large hands going to my ass to grab handfuls as he’d said he would. He squeezed, lifting my body a bit, and pressing me into the island behind me. He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.
“You’re driving me crazy. How are you doing this?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was hoping he meant it in a good way.
“I’m not doing anything,” I whispered.
“Yes, you are. You’re doing everything.”
And then he kissed me again.
Gentle and sweet.
Soft like a feather as he brushed his lips across mine, his sweet breath tickling my top lip.
He pulled away, releasing my ass with a growl.
“I’m sorry,” I said.