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Authors: Nicola Haken

The Making of Matt (9 page)

BOOK: The Making of Matt
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I decided right then I needed to change the security code for the gates. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get the making fun of me over with already.”
Asshole.

I stomped over to the sun loungers, sitting down and staring absentmindedly at the soft ripples on the surface of the pool.

Sawyer followed, taking up the seat next to me. “I’m not going to make fun of you because what you’re going through right now isn’t funny. I’ve been there, remember? I was there for over ten years. You’re not going to find the answers you’re looking for in a book, and definitely not in a porno.”

I tipped my head back, sweeping away the hair that had fallen over my eyes. “Well where the hell
can
I find them?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I’m tired of you blaming all this on me. I’ve tried calling. He doesn’t answer.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? He’s your best friend and he’s struggling. He needs you.”

“You’ve spoken to him, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Sawyer admitted quietly, narrowing his eyes as if trying to assess my reaction.

“How is he? What’d he say?”

“So you
do
care?”

“Of course I fucking care,” I snapped. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if I didn’t.”

Sawyer hummed, looking across to the water. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Do you think you’re getting so hung up because you’ve fallen for a guy, or because you’ve fallen for anyone at all?”

I opened my mouth to give the obvious answer, but closed it again when I realized it wasn’t obvious at all. “I don’t know. How stupid is that? I mean, yeah, he’s a guy. I feel like I should be totally weirded out by the thought of kissing him, but when I remember how it felt…” I trailed off, closing my eyes and trying to shove the memory away. It provoked a thousand different emotions that I couldn’t even begin to piece together. Also, I didn’t want to get a hard-on in front of Sawyer, which happened every single time I thought back to that moment in the utility room.

“You need to stop trying to put yourself in some sort of box,” Sawyer began. I opened my eyes to look at him, genuinely interested in what he had to say. “You’re not a conventional guy, Matt, and life isn’t black and white. There’s no rule that says you can only be attracted to certain people, or that you can’t change along the way. Sexuality is a long spectrum, and it’s okay to land anywhere on it.”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying you connect with
people
. Always have. Not their gender, religion, sexuality or whatever. Just
them
. You’ve fallen in love with a
person
, with what’s
inside
, and I think that’s what’s scaring you the most.”

“Whoa…back the fuck down. You think I
love
him?”

“Hell I don’t know! Only
you
can answer that. But really, if it was anything less, I don’t think you’d be struggling so much.”

“So you’re saying I should just forget he’s got a dick?”

“Fuck no! For one, that would be impossible if you were ever to sleep with him. Have you even thought that far ahead? Do you
want
to sleep with him?”

“I’ve thought about it,” I confessed. There was no point lying to Sawyer. He knew me well enough to smell my bullshit three states away. “And it scares the shit outta me.”

“Scares you?”

“It’s like, I’ve been having sex since I was fifteen years old. I like to think I’m pretty experienced.”

“There aren’t many people who would argue that,” Sawyer interrupted, grinning.

“But with a
guy?
I wouldn’t have a clue where to start. I’d be like a virgin all over again.”

“I say this from experience. A man’s ‘heavenly warmth,’ doesn’t feel all that different from a woman’s. It’s common knowledge you’re a professional at giving it up the ass, so I think you’ll be fine.”

My head jerked back, sending a shock of pain down my neck. It wasn’t a lie, but also not something I’d advertised in the freakin’ newspaper. “How the fuck is that common knowledge?”

“You really have no idea how honest you are when you’re drunk, do you?”

“Wait…” I raised my hand, realization smacking me in the face. “Without going into how the hell you know that about me, you’re right. It’s always been my favorite way to take a chick. Do you think that means I’ve been secretly gay for all these years and not noticed?”

Sawyer laughed. Not an amused laugh, more a chuckle of disbelief. “No, Matt. I don’t. You can’t
not notice
you’re gay. The fact you like fucking ass means you like fucking ass. Some people like using dildos, doesn’t mean they want to marry one. Love, or whatever it is you feel for Alex, doesn’t come with a rulebook. You’ve found a connection with someone that goes beyond sex and attraction, probably for the first time in your life. That’s all that’s going on here. I don’t know if it can or will go any further, but like I’ve said a thousand times, you won’t know until you talk to him.”

I sighed heavily, finally resigning myself to the fact he was right. “But he won’t take my calls.”

“Then
find
him. Come on, dude. You know where he lives, where he goes. The only reason you haven’t spoken to him is because you didn’t want to.”

Nodding weakly, I offered a half smile. “Thanks, Saw. For everything.”

“Stand up,” he asked, rising to his feet and opening his arms. “Let’s hug it out.”

“Um…”

“Just fucking do it.”

Shrugging casually, I reciprocated Sawyer’s bear hug. “You didn’t used to be such a sappy shit.”

“It’s what love does to you, dude. Be prepared,” he joked, clapping my back before releasing me.

“I can’t help thinking what if this is all some kind of phase and I end up looking like a giant tit.”

“Aw, Matt,” Sawyer said. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re already the biggest tit we know.”

“Funny. Asshat. You know, if the press got ahold of this, they’d say you turned me.”

“Maybe I have. Maybe it’s been my master plan all along. Kip’s up next.”

I laughed, slapping his upper arm. “Good luck with that one. When you got an ass as hot as Elle’s waitin’ at home only an imbecile would go elsewhere.”

“Ugh, man, she’s practically my sister.”

“You know I don’t discriminate. I’d even tap your mom if she wasn’t such a cold-hearted bitch.”

Sawyer scrunched up his nose, shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge an image in his mind. “Aaaaand...time for me to leave before I throw up in your pool.” I laughed as I watched him walk away, intrigued when he paused just before stepping inside the house. “Find Alex!” he called over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

Still out by the pool, I traced the cracks between the tiles with my foot before looking out and allowing my gaze to linger on the magnificent view. A subtle pink hue snuggled the hills in the distance, signaling dusk was imminent. I decided to interpret that as it being too late to reach Alex and I’d try tomorrow instead. Then I realized tomorrow I’d find another excuse, just like I’d been doing for almost three weeks.

Groaning while picking up my cell, I started tapping out a message. I re-wrote it four times and then just stared at it for a few minutes, periodically swiping across the screen after it automatically locked. It quickly became apparent that the deeper I dug for the courage to hit send, the faster nerves would fill the void.

Quit being such a fucking pussy.

I quickly pressed the screen before my mental pep talk had time to wear off.

 

Me: Enough of this shit. Where the fuck r u?

 

I felt breathless, my heart thumping in my throat, as I watched the progress bar travel across the top of the message, like I’d not taken in any oxygen for hours. Impatience gnawed at my stomach as I wondered if he’d even bother to reply, or if I’d have to literally trawl the fucking streets to find him.

 

Alex: Beach

 

Vague much?

 

Me: Which beach?

Alex: Santa Monica. By the pier.

 

I idly wondered what he was doing out there but dismissed it, car keys already in hand.

 

Me: Don’t move. On my way

 

I opted for the Lambo. Being black, it was the least conspicuous of my collection. It was impossible to predict what would happen between Alex and I tonight, but regardless it was something I didn’t want documenting in the press. Butterflies bred in my stomach, multiplying by the thousand the closer I got to the beach. It was an alien feeling to me, I didn’t unnerve easily, and I felt physically sick by the time I put the car in park.

Donning my beanie hat and aviator sunglasses, I set off for the five minute walk to the pier. The disguise would never fool a professional paparazzi but it was often enough to deter the public. People generally needed to be one hundred percent certain a celebrity was who they thought they were before approaching them, fearing embarrassment at being mistaken I assumed.

Dusk had settled, the immediate sky illuminated by the bright lights of the pier. I stepped onto the sand, cursing myself for not wearing more beach-appropriate footwear. Thankfully most of the buzz appeared to be happening on the pier and I spotted Alex straight away by the water’s edge, wearing a white vest and black jeans rolled up to his knees, his feet bare and allowing the soft waves to caress his feet.

Tentatively, my pulse thudding, I crept up behind him, the warm sand cushioning my footsteps. “Where the fuck have you been, Alex?”

“I needed some time to think,” he said, refusing to turn around.

“Yeah. Must’ve been so difficult having a guy coming on to you.” I was being an ass but I was angry with him. Alex was my ‘go to’ guy, and fuck after everything I’d been dealing with – losing my mom, developing a business I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do with, falling for a fucking dude – I needed to be able to fucking
go to
him.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, ignoring my sarcasm.

“Awesome. Fantastic. Top of the fucking world. How do you think I’ve been?”

“Matt I’m-”

“No, Alex!” I cut him off, frustration simmering in my veins. “Why the fuck are you pissed at me? What have I done so wrong? You can’t even look at me dammit!”

I heard an all too-familiar click just as Alex’s body began to turn. My eyes followed the sound and I spotted two photographers snapping shots of us in the distance. I huffed, my fists clenching by my sides. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Come home with me?”

Alex shook his head. “I’m staying at a hotel not far from here. We can talk there.”

Eager to leave, I didn’t pause to ask why he was staying at a hotel when he only lived thirty minutes away. Instead, I bowed my head, waited for him to pull his tennis shoes back on and then followed his brisk pace up the beach. I tugged his arm, pulling him in the direction of my car when we reached hard land. He told me his hotel was just a minute’s walk but I wanted to drive around for a while until I’d lost sight of the press closing in on us.

Not one word was exchanged while I drove. Every so often I would risk a glance in Alex’s direction as I tried to decipher the expression on his face. He looked sad as he stared apathetically out of the window. It made my chest feel weird. Achy. A month ago I would’ve emptied a bag of potato chips over his head or squirted him in the face with a shaken can of soda to cheer him up. Now, I just…hurt.

What happened to us?

I didn’t need to drive far before I felt it safe to make a sharp U-turn and ask Alex where to head, breaking the painful silence. There was a small parking lot attached to the back of the hotel and I reversed into a spot, letting Alex get out first so I could take a deep, steadying breath.

Shadowing Alex as he led me into the hotel, I briefly noted that it wasn’t up to the standard I was used to. I could almost hear my mom chastising me for my snobbery and it made me smile. I felt her with me every single day in some way or another. It was a bittersweet sensation, knowing she was still looking out for me but not being able to thank her with a hug.

“Matt…” The sound of my name snapped me out of my untimely grieving. Following Alex in a daze, I hadn’t even noticed we’d reached his room and that he’d unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Entering the room, I wished I’d worn a shirt with buttons so I could un-pop a couple. I felt strangled by the neck of my t-shirt as I made my way over to the double bed. It was the only place to sit in the basic room which was fitted out with only a bed, closet and small nightstand.

“So…” I began as I settled my butt onto the firm mattress, trailing off when I realized I didn’t know where the hell to start.

“So…”

As he stood in front of me, hands tucked into his pockets, I noticed his hair had grown. His cropped style was completely gone, his curls even longer now, covering the tips of his ears. It surprised me how much I wanted to feel it beneath my fingers.

BOOK: The Making of Matt
7.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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