I liked Karen. She was smart and clever. Even more beautiful than Marc had described, with long, wild black hair and olive skin tone. Her teeth were a bit crooked, perhaps from a lack of braces, but it only added to her charm.
“Pam stood up for us, you know? To Max… at the care center. I know she doesn’t understand Matt being gay, but she’s been really supportive anyway. I like her,” I said, following up with a whisper, “even if she does look like the Marlboro man.”
She sighed loudly, placing her empty bottle back into the cardboard container. “Let’s go. I’m sure Marc needs somewhere to put his hand. And your man looks like he could use one of these,” she said, pointing to the beer. “You know where they are.”
“Thanks, Karen. Hey, are you guys coming? Next weekend?” I looked down at my shoes. “For the wedding?”
“Hell yes. No one does a wedding like the gays,” she teased. “My brother got married as soon as Pennsylvania became legal. They had a Cher impersonator. Fuckin’ right.”
“Fuckin’ right,” I agreed. “Although I don’t think my mom hired Cher for ours.”
She shrugged. “Eh, I’m sure it’ll be great anyway, even without her.”
As we opened the sliding glass door, I whispered in her ear, “I wonder if Madonna is available.”
Chapter Eighteen
I sat on the bench as the children started to filter in for our last class. Little Finn scurried out of his mother’s arms and ran directly toward me, clutching onto my leg.
“Fin! We missed you!” he squealed.
“Yeah?” I asked. “Sorry, I was gone last week. Did you guys have fun?”
“Yeah, but Miss Sally doesn’t know how to play piano, so she just played a tape. It was boring.”
“Boring?” I questioned. “Miss Sally? I don’t believe it.”
“Finn,” his mother said softly. “Leave Mr. Fin alone. He’s working.” She smiled at me apologetically, whispering, “Sorry. He’s never met a stranger in his life, unfortunately.”
“He’s great,” I assured her. “I don’t have a fan base yet. He’s my only admirer.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. It’s nice to have someone play a real instrument rather than listening to the recordings, you know? They love the interaction. Sally says you may start instructing yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “She mentioned it, but I’m still not sure.”
She let Finn’s hand go as he squirmed to get away, jumping onto my lap with a bounce. “Well, you should think about it. The kids love you.” She stretched her hand out. “I’m Cheryl, by the way.”
“Cheryl, I’m Fin… but you know that already. Sorry,” I said shyly.
“Line up, guys!” Sally shouted.
I lifted Finn off of my lap and set him onto his feet. “Go line up, Finn.”
He leaned in and placed his small hands on my shoulders before brushing his lips to my cheek. “Bye, Fin.”
♂♂
As soon as I cracked the door, Matt pulled me into his arms. I hadn’t seen him in over forty-eight hours, leaving a day after the funeral to fly directly to Denver.
“Hi!” I exclaimed with a laugh as Matt pressed his mouth to mine desperately. “How was the game?”
“Missed you so much.” His lips moved feverishly over mine as he tugged the tucked hem of my oxford out of my wool pants.
“Will you at least let me take off my coat?” I teased. I pulled away from him, purposefully taking the time to walk to the closet and place it carefully on a hanger. “Not going to ask me how my day was?”
He moved close, pressing his lips to my throat. “How was your day?” he mumbled.
I let his lips wander as I recapped the events. “Well, there is the sweetest little boy in that last class. He kissed me.”
“What?” he murmured, unbuttoning the shirt slowly. “He kissed you?”
“On the cheek, honey. He’s five,” I said with a smile. “Anyway, Sally wants me to take over some classes. Just me, you know? As the instructor?”
Matt tugged at the last button and pulled the crisp cotton over my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. He bent his knees and licked over my nipple, sucking it into his mouth. “Are you gonna do it?”
I clasped the back of his neck as he moved farther south, dragging his tongue over my navel. “I think so. I’m nervous, I guess, but I love teaching.” The clink of my belt buckle sounded as he dropped the leather strap to the floor. The shoes came next, quickly tugging them from my feet one at a time.
His fingers worked the zip fly of my slim-fit trousers, pulling gently at the sides and sliding them off before aggressively palming over my hardening dick. “You’re a great teacher,” he whispered as his tongue slid up the front of my Armani briefs. “God, I love this underwear… the way your perfect ass looks.”
“I knew you were coming home,” I groaned, tossing my head back as he wet the material with his eager tongue. “You want to move this to the bedroom?”
He quickly stood and lifted me, tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before smacking my cotton-covered behind.
I let out a laugh as we moved quickly through the house and onto our giant mattress. He kissed me languidly, moving his rigid cock against mine with a groan. When he pulled away, it was slow and wet, our lips making an audible melody.
“Do you want one?” he asked quietly, pressing his lips to my ear.
“Want one what?”
“A baby?” His hands roamed my sides as he ground his body against mine.
“You want to talk about this now?” I asked as I tugged at the drawstring of his warmup pants.
“Maybe not this second, but we’re getting married on Saturday,” he returned, pressing his lips to my neck. “We should probably have that conversation.”
He was right. We hadn’t even discussed the basics. Now, with five days left until our wedding, I supposed it was time.
“Okay,” I said, lifting up into a sitting position. “We should talk.”
Matt laughed. “Now?”
“Yes, this is important. We’ve got five days to get everything out in the open.”
He sat up and readjusted himself, tucking his erection back under the elastic band. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Yes,” I spoke quickly, “I’ve thought about it. I can live without a baby if you don’t want one, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t be a little disappointed. I mean, it wouldn’t even have to be a baby. We could adopt an older child… or foster, maybe. I don’t know… I’m babbling. What do you think?”
He smiled and clasped my hands. “I want one too. I was worried that you might not because you’ve never mentioned it.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know that I thought about it until we met. I guess I never thought about the future much.”
“What else?” he asked. “Big stuff. Bring it on.”
“There was an article in the news the other day—”
“And by news, you mean the Attitude Twitter page?” he teased.
“Whatever. Anyway, it said that we should know a few things before doing this. There was a list.”
“Of course there was.” He smiled and scratched the hair on his face. “What was number one?”
“Kids.”
“Okay… and the others?”
I pulled my phone off of the bedside table, flipping through for the bookmarked article. “Second one’s about money. We’ve already talked about that. As soon as we’re married, you’ll be the secondary listed on all of my accounts. You can set up your salary to be direct deposited in there or you can keep your current separate account. That’s completely up to you, but the money I have is available to you. You don’t have to ask… I don’t want you to. I mean, if you’re planning to buy an island, I’d like you to consult me, but otherwise… what’s mine is yours.”
“Fin…”
“Next subject. Have we discussed chores?” I looked around at our spotless bedroom, not an item out of place. “I guess
we don’t need to focus too much energy on that one. Okay… health histories, both physical and mental?”
“Well, I’m healthy… I get a physical every year and no red flags. I’m at prime weight… no disease. Full screen for everything – nothing sexually transmitted or otherwise. Not mentally disabled either, as far as I know,” he responded.
“I’m underweight, as you can see. Doctor would like to see me around thirty pounds heavier, but you can thank my mother for that one… and disease-free, as you know.” I looked at the next topic with a smile. “Is my partner affectionate to the degree I expect?”
“He made me wait this evening so that he could hang his coat. Unacceptable.”
“Torture,” I teased. “You had to wait one minute to maul me.”
“You love it.”
“Do we openly discuss our sexual needs?” I asked with a lift of my eyebrow.
“I discuss them with you and you turn me down.”
“Take this seriously, Matt. Do I give you what you need?”
He pressed his lips to mine. “You give me things I didn’t even know I wanted. I mean that.”
“Will there be a television in the bedroom?” I glanced over at the sixty-inch monitor bolted above the dresser before moving my eyes to his.
“Hey, you use that as much as I do. How else would you watch RuPaul’s Drag Race?”
“I watched it once,” I replied. “Once!”
“You knew their names, Fin.”
“Fuck you,” I grumbled. “Okay. Do we truly listen to each other?”
“I listen to you.” He held my hands, rubbing our fingers together. His glass-blue eyes stared into mine. “Do you think I listen well enough?”
“Yes,” I whispered, leaning in again. “Do we need this list, Matt?”
“I don’t need a fucking list to know how much I love you. And I certainly don’t need one to know you feel the same way. If you ever feel like I’m not listening enough or that I’m not being the man you need me to be, baby, just tell me.” He traced my face with his fingertips. “I want to be that man for you.”
“You are. I… I’ve been thinking about maybe – I don’t know – taking your name. You know, maybe hyphenating or something. If you don’t want me to, then—”
“Fin… are you serious?”
“You hate it, right? I won’t. It’s stupid,” I murmured.
“No, it’s not stupid. I-I don’t know what to say. Finlay Carrick MacAuliffe-DiFiore,” he said with a laugh. “You sure about that?”
“Only if you are.”
“What if we both did? I mean, what if I took yours, you know?”
I swallowed a dry gulp of air. “Really?”
“Why not? I love your name. I’d be proud to take it.” He locked his thumbs into the elastic of his pants and worked them down his legs before reaching for my briefs. “Now… let’s openly discuss those sexual needs.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Mom.” I sat on the sofa, watching her buzz from point A to B, waving her hands wildly as the wedding planner, Marla, explained every last detail to her. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
She smiled at me tightly. “Busy, honey. Wedding’s tomorrow, you know.”
“I do. That’s why I need to talk to you.”
She shrugged apologetically toward Marla and followed me back into the bedroom where I carefully shut the door quietly.
“Mom, there are fourteen of us total… that includes me and Matt. Why did you hire her?”
She bit her lip with a smile. “Are you mad, bunny?”
“I’m not mad. I just don’t understand why we need her. We’re getting married in the living room. It’s being catered, so why couldn’t we have just hired a caterer and a florist or something? Honestly, this place looks nuts. It’s too cold to have the ceremony outside, but you’ve hung enough string lights out there to light up downtown.”
“Too much? I can get the guys to take a few strands down if you want. And it’s not that cold. It’s unseasonably warm for November. Besides, I’ve got five outdoor heaters being delivered later this afternoon.”
“Mom, don’t you get it? This is supposed to be a nice, quiet ceremony. That’s it. We don’t need doves to fly out of a fucking cage or a symphony to play, you know?”
“I only hired a pianist and a cellist… that’s it, I swear,” she responded.
I laughed and lowered my lips to her forehead. “That’s more than enough, okay? No more, Chloe. Stop.”
“The florist hasn’t even arrived.”
“Okay… when they do, I want you to keep it simple. No giant archway or ridiculous place settings, okay?”
She nodded. “Simple. Got it.”
There was no way that front room would be anything less than a spectacle. “You can keep the heaters. Someone may want to smoke out there,” I teased, goading her about her little habit.
There was a quiet knock on the door before Matt poked his head in. “Is it safe?” he asked.
“Come in. Mom was just leaving.”
Matt kissed her on the way out before wrapping his arms around me. “You two killing each other yet?”
“She hired a cellist,” I replied, laughing softly. “But the good news is she says she can have a few strands of lights taken down.”
Matt and I looked out of the floor-to-ceiling window at the same time, reveling in the display. “I think it’s beautiful, actually. She’s done a great job.”
“It’s too much,” I complained.
“It’s beautiful. Tell her that, okay. She’s freaking out and thinking you hate it.” He leaned in and took my lips in a short kiss. “It’s really gorgeous, honey.”
“You’re right. She’s right. This whole thing is just a lot to handle, you know?”
“Second thoughts?” he teased.
“Nope. I can’t wait for you to be my husband. Fiancé is so last week. Is Em at the hotel?”
I planned to spend the evening with Emily at the Conrad, partially because we hadn’t seen each other, but mainly because I was superstitious about sleeping in the same bed. Matt assured me that I was being ridiculous, but I knew he didn’t like for us to be apart… not even on the night before our wedding.
“Yep. She called. Just checked in. She said that she’s wearing a bathrobe and slippers while eating strawberries. But, she also said that she’s still hungry and wants you to – and I quote – get your ass down there. She wants a steak.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
I kissed him slowly, lazily touching my tongue to his. “Mmm,” I moaned. “Maybe in an hour.”
“Go,” he responded, pulling away with a smile. “If you stay an hour, I won’t be able to let you go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“The suits? Are they ready?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you serious? Go. Wait… give me your ring.”
I slipped it from my finger and handed it to him. He placed it on the dresser and kissed me one last time.
After tomorrow, I would never take that ring off again.
After tomorrow, he would be my husband.
“See you at the altar.”
♂♂
Emily was on her second Cosmopolitan, gushing over the truffle fries in front of her.
“Seriously, Mac, eat one of these. They are in-saaane.” She moaned aloud, closing her eyes. “I’m getting coconut cream pie too. And we should get a bottle of champagne, right? Conrad Hotel, mothafuckas!”
I smiled at her. “Technically, it’s the Capital Grille,” I responded, pointing to the hallway connecting the hotel to the restaurant.
“And I’m letting you pay,” she responded. “I’m takin’ the bathrobe and the fancy soap. Getting married… what?”
She held her flute in the air, cheering me. I lifted my water glass and lightly touched her glass to mine. “I know, right? Who would have thought?”
“Seriously though, Finny. Finbo. Finny Mac.” She leaned in, glassy-eyed and full of
affection. “You deserve this. I know you’ve always thought of yourself as undeserving, but I never understood that. You’re the nicest guy I know.” She drained her drink and set it down on the bar with a thump. “You’re certainly the fucking hottest.”
“Okay,” I answered.
“You have no idea, do you? Runway models in fucking Milan aren’t as gorgeous as you. Matt’s the lucky one, if you ask me.” She motioned for the bartender to bring her another drink, pointing at her empty glass.
“I never thought I could love someone like that,” I confessed. “I never thought someone would love me back like he does.”
“See? That’s what I don’t get. Why do you say shit like that? You are beyond fucking brilliant, you’re beautiful, you’re sensitive… and have I mentioned that you are the sexiest boy on the planet?”
I laughed aloud. “You certainly have.”
She pulled at her long red hair, separating it into two pieces, before starting to braid one of the sections lazily. Once both sides were complete, she knotted the ends and smacked her hands onto the top of the bar. “Have you seen the dress I’m wearing?”
I shook my head. “When would I have seen your dress?”
“It’s in the closet upstairs. I took the flower girl thing a little too seriously, I’m afraid. It’s about five inches above the knee and has a fucking sash. I got the shoes at the Hustler Hollywood store.” She snorted loudly, drawing the attention of several patrons surrounding us. “And what are you wearing, my love?”
“Valentino,” I responded shyly. “I’ve always wanted one.”
“And our Matthew?”
“Gucci, I think.”
She threw back her head in laughter. “And how’d you swing that one in two weeks? Does your dad know a guy?” she teased.
“Something like that.”
“Your dad seriously knows a guy for everything. Think he could find a guy to take care of Kenny?” she asked with another snort.
“What’s the matter now?” I rubbed her arm as she took another swallow of her fresh drink.
“He said he doesn’t want to fuck me anymore. Says it feels wrong.” She put emphasis on the last word, ending it with a hard laugh. “What kind of pussy says it feels wrong to have no-strings fornication? He says he wants a relationship,” she added, lifting her fingers into air quotes. “Kenny Fucking Todd: the relationship guy.”
Fin&Matt Page 20