“I think I’m falling in love with you. So, no—I did none of those things you say I did. But I don’t blame you for thinking them. I didn’t ask for that stuff to be done, and I’m sorry it was. But I’m not sorry I met you. I’m not sorry we made love.”
“Love?” My head’s spinning now. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, even if it is on Matty’s lap, because I’m seriously confused.
“Yeah. I mean, do I know what love is? Probably not, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I grin at odd times during the day like a goddamn fool when I come across something you said or did. Sex with you is off-the-charts amazing. Kissing you. Just kissing you make me horny as hell. Other women walk by and I know in the past, pre-Lucy, I’d be attracted to them, but now they are like oatmeal to me. Bland and uninteresting. You’re the sugar in my life. So yeah, I’m falling in love with you.”
I have no response to that. We haven’t known each other for that long. Only a few weeks. It doesn’t make sense to me.
“I know it’s crazy, right?” he whispers into my hair. “For Masters, he said it was immediate. First time he saw Ellie, his wife, he told me the earth moved. I didn’t realize the earth was moving when I saw you the first time. I didn’t realize everything in my life was changing because it happened slowly. One meal, one conversation, one kiss at a time.”
My cheeks are wet again. I’ve never had anyone say these words to me before. I don’t know if they’re false. They don’t feel false. But can I even trust my instincts anymore?
He sighs again, and the breath ruffles my hair. I dig my face into his chest because I don’t want to talk. I don’t have the words for what I’m feeling right now. Happy, angry, sad, confused, elated. They are all inside of me, fighting for domination. The cocktail of strong emotions is making me dizzy and weak.
Matty rubs my arms slowly. “I swear to you on a stack of Holy Bibles, my grandmother Betty’s grave, and the Outland Trophy I won for last year’s season that I did not know who you were when we met at the Brew House or when I ate with you at Crowerly’s. I knew who you were when I found you baking cookies that night at Ace’s place, but I slept with you because I wanted you, not because of Ace. I hate that you have a relationship with Ace. It makes me jealous as fuck. And I’m not thrilled I’m in this position with Ace, but Coach laid it on me.”
For some reason, this sets off my bullshit meter. I push away from him so I can see his face.
“Coach told you?” I ask with some skepticism. “And you just do it?”
Matty raises his eyebrows. “I’m guessing your mock trial is set up a little differently but in football, your coach is your daddy, the Holy Trinity and the President of the United States all wrapped up into one foul-mouthed body. If he asks you to murder someone, you respond with ‘Should I use a knife or a gun?’”
“That sounds healthy,” I say sarcastically.
“It’s just the way it is,” he admits. “But he has us for four years, or in my case five since I redshirted, but for the time that we’re here, he owns us. We’re his chess pieces on the big green board.” Matty leans back against the cushion and stares at the ceiling. “I think that’s why college coaches suck as pro coaches. Here we do everything he says, but once you’re out and making money, he doesn’t have as much control.”
Matty tips his head and points his startlingly blue eyes directly at me. “I’m not going to lie to you. I sat in the back of that room when you delivered that closing thinking how you were the perfect person to deliver the message to Ace because you’re so amazing. If you came to me, with a passionate and reasoned argument like you delivered, I’d do just about anything. So yes, in all honesty, I did use you but not in the way you’re accusing me.”
I suck my lips into my mouth and mash them between my teeth. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to think or do right now.”
“You don’t have to make any decisions, but I’d like a chance to prove myself to you.” His gaze doesn’t waver, and I can’t see anything but sincerity in his eyes.
“How?”
“I won’t bring up Ace again.” He shakes his head slowly. “I’ll be honest. I feel like I’m outkicking my coverage. Not only would I want you to be my lawyer, but I’m not sure I’m worthy of being your boyfriend.”
“Is that what you are?” I ask. My heart is telling me to believe. I’ve lived my whole life being careful. Do I want to be careful again? I think back to the agony I felt when I thought he’d betrayed me. Thought? As in past tense? Had I forgiven him? Was there anything to forgive? “My boyfriend?”
“Damn straight I am.” He squeezes me. “I’m buying a letterman’s jacket and you’re wearing it.”