There was only one bed.
One deliciously comfortable, supremely large bed.
And Izabel couldn’t make her mind up as to whether she wanted the problem solved or not. It bothered Matt though, and she wished she understood the source of his distress about it.
As she unpacked her clothes, she looked around the room.
Matt sat in the chair, writing notes in his phone. His head bobbed, his foot tapped, and occasionally, he’d drum on the edge of the table.
“So that’s how the magic happens?” she said, sitting down opposite him.
“Huh,” he said, his body jerking as if she’d just snapped him back into it. “Shit. Sorry, what?”
She nodded at his phone. “I wondered what it must be like to write a song. Like what inspires it and what the logistics of it are.”
Matt sighed and leaned back against the chair. “It comes when it comes. Sometimes it’s a word, a feeling. Sometimes it’s a line of lyrics or a drumbeat. Sometimes it takes weeks, sometimes twenty minutes.”
“And you’re feeling inspired?
His eyes flitted to hers, his gaze intense. “Yeah, Iz. I am.”
A small piece of her hoped she’d been the source of it.
“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Wanted to let you know I’m just going to grab a quick shower,” Izabel said.
Matt’s eyes softened and he tipped his chin, and the gesture made her smile. He was so focused, so lost in the moment of writing.
There was a quick rehearsal for the wedding, then Harry’s parents had organised a buffet-style dinner. She and Matt would go down together, but he was going to wait for her in the bar while the rehearsal took place so they could go to dinner together.
Izabel stripped and tied her hair up. She didn’t really have time to wash and dry it, but the hot water was plentiful as she soaped the rest of her body. It completely perked up her spirits. With the light tan she’d gained through the summer, she decided to forgo a full face of make-up, settling for a little bronzer, some lip-gloss, and mascara for her naturally light eyelashes.
After pulling on her pink strapless sundress and putting her hair back into a slick ponytail, she added a gold necklace, a handful of stackable rings, and a pair of heeled sandals.
“Ready whenever you are,” she said to Matt when she stepped out of the bathroom, dumping her dirty clothes into her now empty suitcase.
He was still seated where she’d left him. He glanced up, half-distracted, and looked down at his phone before quickly looking back at her again.
His double-take completely warmed her inside. “You look beautiful, Iz.”
“Thank you.” She held the hem of the skirt out a little on either side.
“I feel like I should change.” Matt walked over to her until he stood in front of her.
“You look fine,” she said. “You showered before you picked me up. I smelled like oven cleaner.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to mention it, but I may need to air the car out when I get home.”
Izabel laughed and poked his chest. “How rude of you to notice.”
Matt grinned and reached for her hand. “Ready?”
His grip was assured, confident, but she’d never be able to tell him how much she loved it. “Ready.”
“So, I’m your boyfriend, right?”
Izabel nodded. There was something about the look in his eyes that made her thighs press together. “You are.”
“Well, I was thinking while you were showering. I get boyfriend privileges without you punching me for taking liberties, yeah?”
She wondered where he was going with the question. “You do.”
“It just occurred to me that likely includes kissing you at some point.” Matt glanced down at her lips, and she couldn’t help but run the tip of her tongue over her lower lip before she bit it.
“Possibly,” she whispered.
His hand cupped her cheek and moved closer to her. “I don’t want an audience the first time I kiss you, Iz. Even if it’s pretend.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head. “I don’t.” His lips were so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin.
He slid his other hand around her back, pulling her close. With her breasts pressed up against his chest she could barely breathe.
“So, kiss me then,” she said, her voice wavering.
Matt closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers. It wasn’t the powerful domination she’d been expecting. It was an emotional onslaught wrapped up in tender kisses and gentle tongues. Tenderly, he held her close. Her knees went weak, but it didn’t matter because Matt held her up.
Minutes passed, hours maybe. Izabel lost any sense of where she was. Matt was kissing her. And in a perfect world, it would be because he loved her as much as she loved him. Instead, it was a ruse, a plan to fool Harry. But it was enough. It was a ray of moonlight she’d hold close long after the weekend was over.
“Damn, Iz.” Matt rested his forehead against hers.
She fought to capture her breath.
Then he grinned. “I’m going to enjoy doing that again.”
During the kiss, she’d reached for him, her hands splayed on his back. Where she was still rubbing them up and down. She quickly pulled the away.
Matt ran his fingers down her cheeks. “Yeah. You see Harry in the next ten minutes, he’s totally going to believe we just fucked.”
The words were like a splash of cold water to her face. For a moment she thought Matt had felt something. Something powerful like she had. But perhaps it had just been part of the game. Steeling herself inside, she smiled the best she could. “Well, let’s go then.”
If Matt noticed the change in her demeanour, he was smart enough to not say anything. He led her out of the room and, like a gentleman, offered her support as she navigated the stairs in her heels. When they reached the rehearsal room, it was buzzing with her friends.
“Izabel,” Gemma squealed, flying in her direction, and squeezing her so hard Izabel could have sworn a rib cracked. “Hey, Matt.”
“See you in the bar?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, won’t be long. Right, Gemma?”
Gemma nodded. “Twenty minutes. Half an hour max. Ollie is gagging for a pint and his mum wouldn’t let him have one before the rehearsal.”
“Tell him I’ll go have one for him,” Matt offered. He caught a glimpse of Harry and Sophia out of the corner of his eye, Harry’s eyes focused on Izabel.
“Oh, God. Have a rum and coke for me, too, then.” Gemma turned when she heard her name called. “See you later, Matt. Come on, Iza.” Izabel watched her head back to Ollie.
“You okay?” Matt said, tipping her chin so she faced him. His eyes were focused on her with such intensity.
“No. Take me with you,” she pouted. “I don’t know why he had to bring her with him to the rehearsal. I thought it was meant to be just the wedding party.”
“You’re going to stay here and do two things. First, let the fact you look so fucking pretty in this dress give you enough confidence to stand in here alone without me. Second, remember…everyone in this room knows what Harry did and that says more about him than you.”
“You’re right. I’m fine. Big girl undies, right.”
“Right. Now kiss me goodbye.”
Izabel stepped up onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Matt.”
“Pathetic,” Matt grumbled, placing his hands on either side of her face. “You need to show Harry what he lost.” His kiss was one-step shy of being unacceptable in front of Gemma’s family. Yes, there were tongues. Firm and searching. And, oh, God, she might melt into a puddle any minute. She placed her hand over his and held on. When he finally let her go. “That’s how you kiss me goodbye, sweetheart.”
And with that, he turned and left the room.
Dear mother of God. She’d no idea what happened, but the kiss seemed to have removed her ability to walk. But it had also removed her nerves and evaporated any thoughts about her ex. Which she suspected was Matt’s goal.
She took a deep breath.
“Oh, Iz.” Gemma gripped her hand when she finally found her feet and leaned close to her ear. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? I know you said it was just for show, but that looked very, very real.”
Izabel watched him disappear down the hallway.
“We’re adults, Gemma.”
“Okay. But watch your heart. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at him over the years,” Gemma whispered as they stood at the top of the makeshift aisle. “Have you got your stories straight about how all this happened? How the two of you got together?”
Momentarily panicked, Izabel tried to conjure a story. Why hadn’t they considered his appearance by her side would bring questions. And worse, what if Matt was getting questions while he was in the bar. Shit. They should have talked about it, should have come up with a plan. Instead, they’d spent the car ride with her blathering on about nothing important.
“I know how to look out for myself, Gemma.” She wanted to say more but Harry edged closer to them.
“Yeah, but there was the whole train wreck with his brother.”
“We all make mistakes. Remember Gary Potter.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “God, yes. That loser wasted eight months of my life.”
“At least I only wasted eight hours on Jase.”
“True. You always were much smarter.”
“Girls,” Gemma’s mum snapped. “Pay attention.”
Thankfully, the rest of the rehearsal went smoothly and without any questions. As soon as it was done, Izabel hustled to the bar. She found Matt stood by a tall table with a pint glass in front of him.
“We need to talk,” she muttered quickly.
Matt looked up, his dark eyes fixed immediately on hers. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“No. No time for cute names.” No matter how much the use of one melted her heart. “Gemma reminded me. We don’t have a story if how we got together.”
Matt picked up his beer and took a sip. “Easy. Keeping it simple is the best. I helped you move into Luke’s after the split, realised I’d almost lost you to Harry. Waited a few months before making a move because I didn’t want to be a rebound. One day, I saw you in the lobby of the building, and talked you into coming up to dinner at my place.”
“What did we eat?”
“What’s your favourite?”
“I don’t know. I like shit food. My go-to comfort food is a fish finger sandwich.”
“Perfect. I made your favourite. You thought you were going to get some fancy meal when all you really wanted, because you’d had shitty day, was a fish finger sandwich. And, voila, that was what I’d made, and how you knew you loved me.”
“I love you?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
Izabel took his pint glass and took a sip. “By your logic, we’ve been dating for two months. Isn’t it a bit soon to know if you love someone?”
Matt grinned. “Iz. Our love is out of the ordinary. When the stars align to show us what’s in our hearts, how could we ignore it?”
“You should be a song writer, you know.”
“Really? Never considered it.”
Izabel laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yes, but I’m your idiot, the one who is going to get you a drink before you finish my pint off. What do you want?”
“The rest of your pint?”
Now Matt laughed. “Fine. Drink it. I’ll get another couple of pints.”
Izabel picked up the glass and sipped as she watched him walk to the bar. Man, he had a fine arse. And his shoulders? Iz sighed.
When the stars align to show us what’s in our hearts, how could we ignore it?
She hoped Matt would listen to them.
“He’s a dick. I know I’m marrying his brother in the morning, but I’m not looking forward to having a dick for a brother-in-law.”
Matt watched with amusement as Gemma held onto her glass and pointed a finger vaguely in Izabel’s direction.
Izabel, while not quite as inebriated as Gemma, nodded. “He is a dick. But Sophia is so gorgeous. Have you seen the length of her legs? No wonder Harry couldn’t keep his hands off her.”
Matt considered Sophia for a second before struggling to come to the same conclusion. If he had Izabel waiting at home for him, he wouldn’t look twice at Sophia, long fucking legs or not.
“Her legs were made for wrapping around a pole,” Gemma mumbled.
Izabel laughed. “I want to rise above here, say something about how women shouldn’t put other women down.”
“She fucked your boyfriend, in your apartment, on your new sofa, with pictures of you and Harry all over the walls. When a woman does that to another woman, they lose all access to the moral high ground.”
Izabel drank the rest of her pint. “Yeah. Fucked him with those long legs wrapped around his back. Even left her heels on. I didn’t even know Harry liked screwing someone in heels.”
Matt shook his head. Yup. It was time to get Izabel to bed before she drowned her sorrows in another pint.
“I’m gonna go talk to him about it.” Gemma slid off her stool and Matt reached for her to steady her.
“No, Gemma. Wait. I really think you should go to bed,” Izabel told her friend.
Matt agreed. The woman was starting to slur her words and while he really didn’t give a rat’s arse if the bride-to-be wanted to get totally shit-faced and go for a midnight swim in Lake Windermere the night before her wedding, he strongly believed she’d wake up on her wedding day regretting her life choices if she didn’t stop downing rum and cokes like it was water after a month in the desert.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” Gemma said defiantly. “I can do what I want.”
Matt glanced at his phone. Seven minutes to midnight. “Isn’t it tradition that a bride and groom shouldn’t see each other on the day of the wedding?”
Gemma glanced over Izabel’s shoulder at Matt. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Matt held his phone in her direction. “Then you better hustle.”
Gemma looked at the time and squealed. “Shit. Where’s Mum gone?”
As Gemma and Izabel tried to find Gemma’s mum, he thought about the cumulative scars left on a woman’s heart by the men they dated. They were like paper cuts. Small and innocuous but hurt like a motherfucker. They healed but left scar tissue, leaving the heart tougher. Making it harder to fall apart, but less open to love.
Lather, rinse, repeat each time and new man came on the scene. Careless actions. Unspoken or cruel words.
He looked at Iz who stifled a yawn behind her hand. Harry. Jase. Luke. All of them had left scars on Iz’s heart and he hated them for it.
Harry had ruined her trust. Luke had taken away her choice. Jase had made it so the two of them could never be together. Just thinking of Iz and Jase together made his throat constrict.
Circumstance weighed so unfairly against him.
He grabbed his phone. Papercut Hearts. It would be a good title. He jotted down a few more thoughts before sliding the phone back into his pocket.
Gemma hurried to Ollie and gave him a sloppy, drunken kiss which made Ollie laugh and hug her more tightly. He whispered something into Gemma’s ear that sent her all swoony. It should be ridiculous, but all Matt felt was envy.
Because despite the fact his mum bailed, his nan was widowed, and he had no idea who his dad was, he actually wanted to get married. To be with someone who totally accepted him for who he was.
He looked over at introverted Oliver who had sat with the same three people all night, and social butterfly Gemma who had flitted from table to table, laughing and dancing.
Izabel leaned against him, and he placed his arm around her. They’d been doing it all night. A gentle touch here, a sweet kiss there. Moments when Izabel had kissed him with more…intensity…than he could handle. He’d been half hard all night for the want of her.
He thought about the car ride, how she’d spoken about his music. How she’d sat down opposite him as he tried yet again to write the perfect song about her.
Then he’d think of Jase and his chest would squeeze.
Why couldn’t she be just his?
But when she’d stood between his legs as he’d sat on his stool, her back to him as she danced, it had been impossible to keep his eyes off her arse.
He’d love to profess to being a gentleman, but while his actions maintained a certain propriety, his thoughts had her naked, grinding up against his dick.
“Ready for bed, Cinderella?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Matt asked the bartender for two large bottles of water to be added to his tab and settled the bill. He grabbed the water in one hand, the other reached for Izabel’s.
His heart settled with a thud in his chest when she took it.
Izabel had long since removed her heels and carried them up the stairs in silence.
Matt let them into the room and Izabel headed straight for the bed. “Ah, ah. No you don’t. You’ll hate yourself in the morning if you don’t take your make-up off.”
“Urgh.”
Matt grinned. While he was a long way from sober, he wasn’t as drunk as Iz. “Come on, sweetheart.” He slid his arms around her middle and lifted her from the bed. “Let’s go. I’ll help you out.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
“I know, but you’ll hate waking up tomorrow and your skin a mess for the wedding. Here.” Matt bumped her up onto the counter. “What do you need?”
Izabel pointed. “Those cotton pads, that make-up remover.”
Matt grabbed a pad and poured the clear liquid onto it. He put the bottle down and reached for her chin. “Close your eyes.” She did as he said, and Matt carefully swept the pad over her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to do it.” Her words were uttered softly.
“Do what?”
“Jase. You. Me. This mess.”
His stomach flipped. Uncertain for what to say, Matt simply finished one eye and reached for a pad to clean the other before speaking. “We don’t need to talk about this, Izabel.”
“We do. Because this. Tonight. You and me driving up the M6 motorway on our won adventure. Waiting for me outside of work. Reliable. Steady. All of it. I wish it was always like this. And it can’t ever be because of Jase.”
“It’s water under the bridge.”
“It’s not. You told me to stand confidently in this dress. So, here I go. I was so lost that night. I was fed up with waiting for you to see me, Matt. Fed up with watching you hook up with women like Sophia with their long legs and perfect make-up and big tits. And Jase…well, he saw me. And I was lonely. He told me he’d help me get home. He was kind. He told me he’d been waiting for the right time to kiss me.”
He should move. Stop stroking fucking cotton pads over her eyes like he cared. “Izabel. Honestly. I can’t have this conversation with you.”
Izabel gripped his wrist and opened her eyes. “You have to Matt. You have to because it’s killing me.”
Tears threatened to spill over her lashes.
Matt shook his head, willing words to come, urging his feet to work and take him out of the bathroom.
“Yes, I’m drunk. But right now, there is no Luke, no band, no Jase. There’s just you and me and a fucking huge bathroom. I wanted you, Matt. And you never wanted me back. And I don’t know why, because it could always be like this if you wanted me too.”
“I did, Iz.” Matt realised he’d yelled the words. “I did,” he repeated softly. “When you and Jase…well, after everything exploded between Luke and Jase, Luke was gutted. My best friend. Losing your dad almost broke him. And I thought you and Jase might too. I realised I’d been young and stupid and thought you’d always be there for me because I was a fucking selfish prick, too. I figured give it a few years, get some success under our belts, and Luke would chill the fuck out on his rules, but Jase just made them worse. Your brother is my best fucking friend, my co-writer. He said he’d quit the band if Jase went near you again. I couldn’t risk it. You think I’m here because I felt like a trip to the Lake District? I’m here because I was selfish enough to think two days of make-believe about how it could have been with you would be enough to satisfy my curiosity.”
“And has it been so far?” Izabel placed her hands on his biceps, the heat from her palms seeped through the cotton of his shirt.
“No, Iz. It’s nowhere near enough.” He placed his hands on the counter either side of her and hung his head a hair’s breadth from hers. It would take nothing to turn and kiss her, just like he had been all evening. But here, in the bathroom, they’d both know it was real. “Why Jase, Iz? Of all the fucking men on the planet, why did you have to give up on me with my brother? With the one man who would sleep with you to spite me?”
“He didn’t do it to spite you.”
Matt lifted his head. “What do you mean?”
“It’s why I’ve always defended him.” Izabel swallowed and raised her gaze to his. “He told me he loved me. He told me he’d been waiting for me to see him, just like I’d been waiting for you to see me. I used him to take the pain away of you leaving with that red head. I slept with him anyway.”
“I really don’t want to hear the details of how you and my brother fucked. You’re pushing me.”
Izabel put her hand on his cheek. “I know. But you need to hear this. In the morning, in the hazy half-light between dreams and being awake, Jase made love to me, and I called out your name. I’d dreamt about you, and somewhere between those dreams and Jase taking me in his arms, I forgot who I was with. Or I pretended it was you. I’m not even sure.”
Emotions circled wildly through him. He was so fucking angry at her for sleeping with Jase, with Jase for taking advantage of her when she was so low. But, Christ, a part of him soared knowing the only brother she’d thought of was him. He didn’t want to hear the rest, but he knew he needed to know. Perhaps knowing the details would help him finally put the issue to bed. “Go on,” he said, gruffly.
Izabel let go of his arms leaned back against the mirror. “He stopped. But instead of being angry, he looked…devastated. I apologised. But he told me he loved me, that he’d been waiting. He’d thought it was the start of something more for the two of us. I told him it wasn’t, that it had been a mistake.”
Matt placed his hands on Izabel’s knees, sliding them just beneath the hem of her dress. “Why was it a mistake?”
“Because I’ve been in love with you since my fifteenth birthday and you bought me those gold studs from the money you earned from working with Uncle Allan over the Christmas holidays. Maybe I read more into the gift than you meant, but I imagined you putting them in for me. For your fingers to intentionally touch me. But then I realised you didn’t think of me like that. You saw me as a little sister, not a girlfriend.”
The words pierced Matt’s heart and the song idea from the bar flitted through his brain again. The scars men leave on women’s hearts. Was he as guilty? Had he made her think she wasn’t enough for him? “Izabel.”
“Yeah. I know. We can’t fix it. Jase left after I told him what I just told you. Catastrophe unfolded. Luke and Jase fought. New band rules keeping me from hanging around you guys. I know. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” He needed to know, needed to hear the words from like a masochist waiting for the next crack of the whip.
“What kept me away from Jase kept me away from you, and it really hurt. I wish I could go back and change that night. I wish I’d been more straightforward with you about how I felt. Because, perhaps, if I had, we could let this mean something instead of pretending it doesn’t.”
She reached for him, putting her forehead on his shoulder, and cried. Cried as if she were breaking inside. And he clung to her because pieces of him were breaking too.