I look down at my chipped nail polish, not due from wear and tear, but simply from the incessant picking at it all day during the conference. I might as well be back in Mr. Shanley’s classroom my freshman year of high school, doodling Matt’s name on my notebook. That’s exactly what this feels like. The way my heart speeds up at the thought of him, the way my palms get just a tiny bit sweaty when I’m about to feel his hand on mine, the way my body buzzes when he gets close to me. I love it but at the same time I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and that scares me to death. Needing a distraction, I do what I should’ve done days ago. I call Mom.
She answers on the first ring and I smile, knowing how much she lives for my phone calls, always needing to make sure that I’m happy and well. “Fran, honey, I’m so thrilled to hear your voice! How are you?”
“I’m good, Mom. I actually have a surprise for you,” I say, suddenly realizing I’m just as overjoyed about seeing her and can’t wait to tell her that I’m here in California.
“What kind of a surprise? Are you engaged?” she asks, her voice taking on a whole new level of excitement.
“No, Mom.” I laugh out loud at how crazy that sounds. “I’m not engaged. But…I am in Los Angeles for a conference and I’m going to fly you out so we can spend the day together.”
“That’s wonderful, honey!” she practically shouts through the phone. “Except I’m not home, I’m actually in Santa Barbara visiting my friend Vivian.”
“Even better. Then I’ll drive to Santa Barbara to see you. I think that’s only a little over an hour from here.” The thought of seeing Mom brings a smile to my face. We haven’t seen each other in nine months and I could use one of those hugs that only she can provide. “How about tomorrow, Mom? I’ll leave the conference a bit early, say around noon, and then I could drive out and we can have lunch together.”
“I would love that, sweetie. Oh,” she says, her voice filled with warmth, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, too, Mom. I’ll pick a restaurant and then text you the address. I’m going to rent a car and then I’ll head out when we break for lunch.”
She sighs heavily into the phone. “I’m so glad you called. You’ve made my whole day. Wait until I tell Vivian I’m seeing my baby tomorrow.”
I giggle and hop on the bed. “Yup. Your twenty-eight year old baby. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”
“Okay. Love you and drive safe.”
“I will. Love you, too.”
I hold the phone to my chest and smile, the idea that I’ve made Mom happy brings me a sense of joy. She’s had so little to be happy about over the years and I really want things to be different for her. Although she’s much better now, knowing Dad can no longer harm her and she doesn’t have to live in the shadow of fear, she still works two jobs and sometimes finds it hard to make ends meet. He beat her down until she lost her drive, first to live, and then later to pursue her dream of being a legal secretary, so she continued working at various restaurants and hair salons without ever looking back.
An audible sigh fills the air around me before I go back to obsessing about the evening ahead. Without a clue as to where we’re going, I dig in the closet to find something to wear. The decision is made for me once I spot the emerald green wrap dress, knowing the way it makes my eyes pop and how much Matt likes it when I look at him, or at least that’s what he said. “Fran, open your eyes.” The smooth, yet commanding tone of his voice went right through me and I shudder, even now. Plus, who am I kidding? I love looking into his eyes. Aside from the fact that they’re absolutely captivating, a smoldering blue I’m unable to turn away from, there’s a normal there and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt normal, but I desperately want to.
The clock reads 6:30 p.m. and after taking a few more glances in the hand-carved, full-length mirror, I shuffle to the bathroom to put on some makeup. I apply a couple sweeps of mascara and a hint of blush to pink my cheeks, but go heaviest on my lip gloss where it matters most. Perhaps I’ll get a kiss out of the deal.
Now for the verdict on the shoes. It’s a toss-up between the black or the green strappy sandals, and I opt for black. The green would be way too much and I don’t want to look like a leprechaun.
A ding signals an incoming text and I jump hurdles to get to it. It’s from Matt.
I’m coming for you.
The authoritative way he’s written that has my skin immediately covered in goose bumps. How can I get turned on from a text? Yes, my mind is seriously in the gutter. I can’t help myself. There’s something about the way he says things, an undercurrent of something sexual mixed with control. I know from what he’s told me that he has a need for control and I have to wonder if it extends to all areas of his life. I can only imagine it does.
I’m nearly jumping out of my skin and this feeling hasn’t left me all day. I’ve been fidgety and restless and now I’m biting my lip so hard I might just draw blood. I need to get a grip.
I text Peyton to let her know Matt and Caleb are on their way and she responds by telling me she’s running late and still primping. This boggles my mind because Peyton doesn’t need to do much of anything to look gorgeous. It comes naturally.
The glow illuminating the room from the city lights attracts my attention and I walk over to the window to admire the view, lost in the colorful haze until I hear the knock I’ve been waiting for all day. I take a couple of quick breaths and wring my hands out, releasing one final puff of air before I open the door.
Matt’s propped up against the doorframe, a lopsided smile alights his face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I whisper, and I’m struck dumb because not only does he look incredibly handsome, but his smile warms my insides and all my previous tension has been washed away.
“You look stunning,” he says, as he artfully scans my body with appreciation, moving over the threshold of the door and standing close to me. “Did you think about me today?”
“Eh,” I respond, taking my thumb and forefinger and pinching them together while doing my best to fight back a smile. But I did think about him more than I’m willing to admit and the realization hits me hard. That’s why I’ve been so on edge even though I can’t tell him that.
“Well, I thought about you,” he says in a low voice, “a lot.” He toys with a strand of my hair before gently pushing it behind my ear, pausing to stroke my cheek with his fingers, my skin heats at the contact and I want more. His head dips down and he brushes his lips against mine, once, twice, and then slips past the seam of my mouth to caress my tongue and I sigh into him, loving the feel of his mouth on mine. He weaves his hands through my hair, holding me in place until his kiss becomes softer and he lets go of me completely. “I think we should go,” he says, his tone hoarse, and I can tell he’s trying to maintain his composure.
“Where are we going?” I ask, aware of his fingers that just linked with mine to lead me out the door.
“There’s a bar down on Sunset called The Grand that we thought we’d try out. It opened last year but since I don’t get out much, I haven’t been there.”
“Don’t get out much, huh?” I laugh, giving him a shoulder bump.
“Well, when my movie collection calls…it’s hard to resist,” he replies on a shrug.
I press the call button for the elevator and say a couple of silent prayers for a smooth ride. “It’s a good thing I’m here then, you need a little excitement in your life.”
“I’m starting to think it’s a very good thing,” he says, and my eyes dart to his, a gleam of sincerity radiating off of them, but then he smirks. “And, I did re-arrange my magazines today.”