She couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s natural. We all do. You have to cut yourself some slack. If I were to get up on a stage and try to do what you do, I’d fail too. But it doesn’t mean I’d beat myself up over it. You just have to know your limitations.”
He sat back beside her and nudged her playfully with his shoulder. “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t tried to play the guitar a time or two. Or sang into a hairbrush while looking in the mirror. Or in the shower—everyone does that one.”
“Oh, I sing all the time,” she quipped. “Just not well. And I’m okay with it.”
“Normally I am. I learned a long time ago it was better just to prove people wrong. But lately—”
“Okay, so what is it going to take for you to get over this?” she interrupted. “Because it seems like you are refusing to move on.”
“Move on? It just happened!”
“Weeks ago, Matt!” she cried. “I mean, I could see the first week, even the second, but now? It’s time to move on. You’re giving the press and the haters all the power. And, personally, I think you’re making it worse by hiding out.”
His eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
Okay, insert foot in mouth. Once again, there was no backing down. “Look, I’m not belittling what you’re feeling—”
“Um…yes, you are.”
She chose to ignore him. “All I’m saying is maybe it’s time to stop hiding and go on with your life. Clearly the hermit thing isn’t helping. The only thing it seems to be doing is making you obsess about it and doubt yourself. How is that a good thing?”
Stammering and partial thoughts tumbled out of his mouth for a minute before he stopped. “I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do! I’m lying low to help the band, so I don’t jeopardize our credibility. It’s not like I’m going to live in seclusion forever!”
“Says you,” she mumbled and took a drink of her water.
“What do you expect me to say, Viv?” he asked wearily. “What is it I’m supposed to be doing? Have you ever lived your life in a fishbowl?”
She shook her head.
“Then I guess it’s real easy for you to pass judgment. You have no idea what it’s like.” He sounded tired, defeated. “This is all new to me because it’s never been this intense, so I’m handling it the only way I know how. And it’s not fair for you to stand there as judge and jury and tell me I’m doing it wrong.”
Carefully, she put the cap back on the bottle and stood. “Okay, maybe I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, but I can see how it’s affecting you. And I know I don’t know you that well, but it doesn’t mean I can’t see what’s right in front of me.”
“Really?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, really.”
He made a snorting sound and walked away.
Vivienne eyed the back door and seriously considered just calling it a night. Clearly she wasn’t helping him in any way, shape, or form and was only serving to bring up an already-sensitive subject. Besides, she wasn’t good with confrontations. It was one of the reasons she enjoyed working from home—no drama.
So without a word, she simply made her way across the room to the door. Her hand had barely touched the doorknob when she felt Matt’s hands on her shoulders as he spun her around to face him. She gasped in surprise. “Matt? What—?”
“What do you see right now, Vivienne?” he asked, his voice low, a near growl.
“I don’t… What do you mean?” There was a tremor in her voice and it was breathy and very unlike her.
He stepped closer and her back came in contact with the wall. “You said you can see what’s right in front of you. So tell me, what do you see?”
It was a loaded question, she thought. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d blurt out how she saw a sexy-as-hell man who turned her on simply by being in the same room. But there was no way she could admit to that, and she knew it certainly wouldn’t help the situation.
“I see a man who is struggling with his identity,” she said, swallowing hard.
His eyes narrowed. “Seriously? That’s what you see? That’s all you see?”
There was something in his tone that warned her this was going in a completely different direction than she thought and all she could do was nod.
“Then you honestly can’t see what’s right in front of you.” Now his voice was gruff and so deep and so close that Vivienne almost purred from the sound of it. “Because I’m not struggling—I’m a bastard. I’m selfish. And you know what? I don’t even care.”
She shook her head.
“Trust me. I know what I want, and it’s right in front of me.”
Her eyes went wide as she softly gasped.
And then he pressed against her fully and kissed her.
Chapter 4
Holy shit.
He was kissing Vivienne.
And she was kissing him back.
Damn.
Matt couldn’t believe he had made the move and yet now that he had and she was slowly wrapping her arms around him, he was glad. Slowly, he lowered his hands from her shoulders and skimmed down her arms and then moved to her waist. She was soft and warm and curvy, and as he banded his arms around her, he marveled at just how right she felt.
And familiar.
Wait… What?
Vivienne sighed as his tongue teased her lips and she seemed to press impossibly closer to him. He could feel her from head to toe, and he wanted more. Her hands raked up into his hair. His head angled so he could take the kiss deeper, and when he felt the soft swipe of her tongue against his, Matt’s knees went weak. Over and over, his lips claimed hers with a need that threatened to overwhelm him.
How was this even possible? Hell, he knew from the first moment he’d seen her a week ago he was attracted to her. A man would have to be dead not to want her—she had incredible curves and was beautiful and had an amazing smile and laugh… There wasn’t a thing about Vivienne that Matt would change. It seemed like fate that she had come back into his life at this point, at a time when he needed someone like her—someone with her light and gentle spirit and fiery determination. He sent a silent prayer heavenward that she hadn’t seen him at his worst, when he had been drinking heavily and partying and…
Holy. Shit.
Matt roughly broke the kiss and lifted his head and looked down at her with equal parts embarrassment and horror. “We’ve done this before.”
Her eyes snapped open, and it seemed to take a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, she moved out of his arms and took a few steps away before turning her back on him.
“Vivienne?” he asked impatiently. “Am I right? This isn’t our first kiss.”
“I should go,” she murmured and tried to open the door, but Matt slapped his hand against it to stop her. He waited for her to turn around, but she wouldn’t. Instead, she rested her head against the door and sighed. “I really should go,” she said quietly.
“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been back here for a week—we’ve seen each other every day, and you never mentioned it had only been…two years since we’d seen one another. Why?”
Slowly, she turned around. “To what end, Matt? Why would I bring it up, especially in front of my brother?”
Crap. He hadn’t thought of that. “You left that night—”
“I was escorted out of the building,” she corrected. “And none too gently, thank you very much.”
“Viv, I had no idea—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “It was a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter.” A flush crept up her cheeks, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I…I really should go.”
“No,” he said. “Not yet. I think we need to talk about this.”
She looked ready to spit nails. Seriously? He wanted to talk about this when she was clear
ly hostile? Did he have a death wish?
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said firmly. “I went to the concert and came backstage to say hello. You’d obviously been drinking, and we kissed. It’s not a big deal.” And then she mumbled, “Clearly.”
Before she could move away, Matt grasped her arm and pulled her close. “Clearly?”
“Oh please! You didn’t even remember it happened up until a minute ago. So yeah…I’m going with it not being a big deal.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It was a big deal. It is a big deal!”
“Why?” she cried, her frustration at this conversation difficult to ignore. “Do you carry on like this over every woman you’ve ever kissed?”
Matt reeled back as if she’d slapped him. He released her arm and then took a step back. He noticed a glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she too took a step back.
Without another word to him, she turned and reached for the doorknob again.
That was it? He was just going to let her leave like that? Like hell he’d beg her—even though it was exactly what he wanted to do.
“This isn’t over, Viv. Sooner or later, we’re going to talk about it. I’m not going anywhere for another couple of weeks. You can’t avoid me the entire time.”
She didn’t comment, and she didn’t look at him. She simply walked out the door and closed it behind her.
And left Matt standing there, wondering if she was stubborn enough to stay away.
He cursed and slammed his hand against the door before turning and walking away. He wasn’t sure what was bothering him more—the fact he had crossed the line and kissed Vivienne tonight or that he’d done it before and hadn’t remembered it until now.
Collapsing on the couch, he let his head fall back against the cushions as he sighed. It was all coming back to him.
The concert.
How disillusioned he was at that point with the band and how much he had been looking forward to taking his career in a whole new direction.
And…kissing Vivienne.
Seeing her standing in the doorway that night had struck him as odd, especially since he hadn’t recognized her right away. But once he had, he’d been pleased. Unfortunately, he was more than a little buzzed, and by the time Mick had barged in and had Vivienne escorted out, Matt’s reflexes were too slow to stop it all from happening.
He remembered being pissed off, yelling at Mick for throwing her out and for stepping in at all. But in typical Mick fashion, he had found a way to distract Matt, and by the time he’d been ushered to the waiting limo, it was hard to say if he had even been aware of what had just happened.
Hell, he remembered questioning if it had happened at all.
One minute she was there and he was kissing her and feeling like the missing piece of the puzzle of his life was finally in place, and the next she was gone.
Between Mick’s incessant chatter all the way to the after party, the party itself, and all of the media attention they were getting for it being the end of the tour, the end of Shaughnessy before they took a break, Matt didn’t have time to think. And by the time he came out of his alcohol-induced haze, he thought he’d imagined it all.
That’s when he’d realized he had to quit drinking so hard. When you hit a point when you aren’t sure what is reality and what isn’t, it’s time to call it quits.
So the first three months of his preparations for Broadway had been spent doing a little self-imposed rehab. There was no way he was going to go away for it—not when he and the band were still in the public eye. So he’d spent a lot of time with private counseling. It was grueling and brutal, and there were so many times when he’d just wanted to quit, but in the end, he’d stuck it out and was glad he did.
Now he could have a beer and know he didn’t have to drink the six-pack. Or he could have one glass of wine without finishing the bottle. And really, he only drank when he was with others—and even then, Matt primarily limited it to social occasions. In the past few weeks, he’d been tempted to go back to his old ways—it would offer him a bit of oblivion from everything that was going on. But now that he’d had this revelation with Vivienne, he was even happier he hadn’t.
Vivienne.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
The obvious answer for tonight was nothing. It was clear she had been upset and couldn’t get away from him fast enough. It stung his pride for sure. But what about tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the one after that? He was staying at Aaron’s, and there was no way he was going to leave just because things might be awkward.
“Might,” he murmured with disgust. “Good one.”
The thing that seemed to have him by the throat was that, in any other circumstances, he would have been more than happy to let a woman walk away. Matt didn’t do relationships, and he certainly didn’t like drama.
“Only this time, it’s you creating the drama, dumb ass.”
Yeah. This was quite possibly the first time he was the one who was looking to cling, looking to push for more, looking to… Hell, he was looking to see where this all could go.
The timing sucked.
The circumstances sucked.
And Vivienne’s opinion of him certainly sucked.
Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to put in an effort to win a woman over. Seduction was easy because, in most cases, he didn’t have to do a damn thing. Women were thrilled just to say they’d been with Matty Reed. That wasn’t going to be the case with Vivienne and, if he was being completely honest, he didn’t want this to be like anything he’d done before. It was Vivienne, and she was special.
She wasn’t one of his groupies, and she wasn’t someone easily swayed by his charm.
And there was a very distinct possibility she was going to be the first woman who had the ability to break his heart.
* * *
She had to hand it to herself—walking away from Matt had taken Herculean effort, but she’d managed it.
Now, as she stripped and changed into a pair of comfortable pajamas—the silky, lounging kind—and made her way to her bed, she realized just how out of her element she felt. Again. Thanks to Matt.
Dammit.
Tossing back the comforter, she scolded herself. She was an intelligent, levelheaded adult. Dating never made her nervous or stupid, and she was somebody who enjoyed a healthy sex life when the opportunity presented itself. So why was it that Matt Reed only had to kiss her to turn her mind to complete mush and make her jittery like a virgin? It was annoying as hell, and she had no idea what to do about it.
Avoiding him would be the perfect solution, but unless she started coming and going from her home through a back window, she was bound to see him. Or maybe she’d take a page from his book and just hole up in her house and vow not to be seen in public. Well…maybe if she hadn’t gone on and on all night about how ridiculous he was being about isolating himself. With her luck, he’d probably take her up on her little pep talk and start venturing outside more and more, and then she’d have to see him all the damn time.
“Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?” she questioned with a sigh, climbing into bed. Reaching over to her bedside table, she grabbed her tablet and made herself comfortable. It was a nightly ritual—a little reading, a little downtime—and after the night she’d had, Vivienne most definitely needed it.
Her library of ebooks was overwhelming, even to her, and since she had finished the latest romantic best seller the night before, she wasn’t sure what to start on next.
“Bad boys, bad boy CEO, billionaire, the boss, the hockey player, biker dude,” she murmured as she scanned the titles. “Geez, can’t a regular girl meet a regular guy anymore?” A little farther down, she found one that stopped her. “The rock star.”
Interesting.
“When bad-boy rocker Max Adams stumbles on pr
im and proper Hailey Noelle in an elevator during a blackout, sparks fly. Their all-too-brief encounter leaves Hailey running for cover and Max hot on her heels…”
A snort of disgust came out before Vivienne could stop it. “Seriously? How prim and proper could she be if she’s doing him in an elevator? Come on!” Deciding it wasn’t the book for her, she started to scroll down the page but somehow ended scrolling right back up and clicking on it.
“There’s nothing wrong with being curious,” she said out loud, as if needing to justify her choice of reading material to her collection of decorative pillows. “Maybe poor ole Hailey has her reasons for letting the bad boy get up close and personal in that darkened elevator. We don’t know.” She paused. “And now I have to know.”
Two hours later, Vivienne wanted to throw her tablet across the room in frustration.
Sexual frustration.
Good Lord the book was explicit. And the entire time she’d been reading, it hadn’t been the least bit difficult to picture herself and Matt in the roles of Max and Hailey. Now she was wide awake and even more turned on than she had been in Matt’s arms earlier, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
It was just a book. A really sexy book.
Filled with the kind of sexual escapades she wished she could be experiencing right now.
“Gah!” she cried out and kicked the blankets off of her before jumping from the bed. With a loud sigh, Vivienne stalked from her bedroom and went down the stairs, to the kitchen, to get something to drink. “This is ridiculous,” she murmured, pouring herself a glass of water.
Glass in hand, she walked over to the front window and noted that the lights were still on at her brother’s house. Maybe Matt was awake, or maybe he just left them on. She didn’t know. But for some reason, she really wanted to know. What was he doing? Was he still beating himself up over the fact that she had called him a coward for not moving on, or was he maybe, just maybe, beating himself up because he had forgotten about their kiss?
Maybe he wasn’t beating himself up at all, she realized. For all she knew it was a normal, everyday occurrence for him—kissing random women and then just forgetting about it.
One More Kiss Page 9