Open House

by TC Matson

  He just rejuvenated my soul with five words…

  Chapter 23

  “When are we going to tell Lucas?” Trenton asks on the other end of the phone. I haven’t seen him since he left the morning after the best night of my life and that was a week ago.

  “I don’t know,” I answer feeling small.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “What if you don’t like our life? I mean, I have a child who keeps me pretty busy. He’s my single most important person. What if he doesn’t like it? Or you? And if he does, what about Brian?” I didn’t think that completely through.

  “What the fuck about Brian?” he snaps harshly.

  “Are you okay with having to see him? There’s eventually going to be a time you two cross paths,” I explain.

  “I’m the one in your bed. I’m the one holding you. And I’m the one working for your heart. As long as that doesn’t change, I could care less about him. I want in your life, not out of it. We already know Lucas likes me. Now we’re down to what if he doesn’t like the idea of us dating. And honestly, you’d be foolish to let him decide that.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just don’t want to add any more stress on him.”

  “Lucas isn’t stupid, Angel. If you’re happy, you know he’ll be happy.”

  “What happens when he gets attached and you leave?” Yet another question without thought.

  “Who says I’m leaving? I want to be with you and if I’m not making it clear, I need to step up my game,” he says with a chuckle.

  “Tomorrow. I’ll tell him at dinner tomorrow.”

  “Am I invited? I’d like to be.”

  “And what if he flies off the handle?” I ask.

  “We’ll deal with it when it comes. I’m not sweating that. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

  I have felt sick all day today. My stomach has churned, threatening me with throwing my guts up many times today. Efficiency has been out the window since waking up. This morning, I could barely look at Lucas in fear he was able to read my mind through my eyes. I know it’s stupid, but this is big—life altering big. And if Lucas isn’t happy, it will destroy me. If he isn’t okay with me and Trenton dating, it will shred me to pieces and tear my heart apart layer by layer. And although I agree my happiness is my happiness, I want the most important piece of my life to be happy too.

  My thoughts are every-freaking-where. I’m making meatloaf with mashed potatoes—Lucas’ favorite—just in case. May as well butter him up for this.

  I gulp in air when the most anticipated knock on my door sends my heart into a marathon. Lucas glances over the couch at me with a dumbfounded look. We’re not used to getting company.

  Trenton oozes confidence in his smile when I open the door. Unlike him, I’m in cardiac arrest and sweating like I’m standing beside a fire in ninety-degree heat.

  “Nothing to be worried about,” Trenton whispers.

  “I can’t—”

  “Mr. B.!” Lucas shouts his elation. “I didn’t know we were practicing today. Let me go get my ball.” He leaps from the couch, tossing the remote behind him.

  “Lucas, wait,” I call after him. He skids to a stop and bounces off the wall. I point to the couch with a shaky finger. “Come here for a minute.” My voice quivers.

  Trenton pats my shoulder as he passes me and takes a seat beside Lucas on the couch. “I’d like to ask you something. It’s pretty important.”

  I’m going to throw up.

  “Would it be alright with you if I date your mom?”

  Lucas smirks. “Mom always said girls give you cooties. You must really like her.” Sarcasm drips from his tone.

  I cover my mouth to stifle my laughter.

  Trenton chuckles. “I do.”

  “I’ll still get to see Dad, right?” Lucas asks me.

  “I’m not taking you away from your dad, ever.”

  “You’ll still be my teacher, right?” he asks Trenton.

  He nods. “Won’t change a thing at school. I promise.”

  “Fine by me.” He shrugs like he doesn’t care.

  If there’s a stronger word than relief, I just felt it. The world lifts off my shoulders and I don’t know if I want to jump for joy or cry, or both.

  “Mr. B.?” Lucas looks to his hands. “I don’t feel like practicing. I’m tired and I want to be lazy.”

  Trenton scruffs his hand through Lucas’ hair. “Me neither. Hold the couch down while I help your mom with dinner.”

  He’s smirking in triumph when he wraps me in his arms, looking down at me. “I told you.”

  I rest my forehead on his chest. “It’s possible I wouldn’t have started dating you if I knew how this day would’ve felt in the beginning.”

  He chuckles kissing the top of my head. “Nothing to fret about.”

  “Please tell me you like meatloaf.” My trepidation is muffled by his chest.

  “Relax, Angel.”

  I tiptoe and kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

  There’s something mystifying about his eyes. They hold knowledge and passion, clutching my heart as I fall into them.

  Dinner falls into play, perfectly. It’s like life never missed a beat and Trenton has been here the entire time. We share our daily ventures minus my anxious shenanigans, and of course, the boys know more about each other’s day since they spend it inside the same four walls together. And when soccer makes an appearance, both become exuberant and gush over it.

  Trenton helps me clean the kitchen with flirtatious remarks, dumping the scraps in the trash and wiping off the table. But the moment his hands enter the soapy water and he begins washing the dishes, my knees almost buckle under me—instant turn-on.

  “I’m going to leave before Lucas goes to bed,” he says.

  I give him an ironic glance.

  “Several things come into play. First, I want him to see me leave. Second, we both know once we’re alone things will quickly become something we can’t control.”

  I’m not enthused by his decision, but I am pleased at him trying to make a good impression with Lucas. That means a lot to me.

  He says a quick goodbye to Lucas and places a chaste kiss to my cheek, one that leaves me with an ache because I’m not able to get my fill of him. He winks, and then he’s gone.

  Chapter 24

  Trenton texted me earlier and said he’d pick me up at six thirty, but he wouldn’t tell me where the heck he’s taking me even when I pressed him with a little ineffective provocative texting. I failed severely. He didn’t budge, no matter how much I tried.

  I want so badly to tell Lucas not to say anything to Brian about Trenton and me, but I don’t feel it’s right to teach him to hide things from his dad, so I keep my opinion to myself and drop him off in the driveway without getting out—my normal routine.

  Once back home, I rush to take a shower and then change into jeans, a pretty pink blouse, and twist my hair into a ponytail just in time for him to arrive.

  His eyes scan over me before settling into a charming grin. “You ready?”

  I lean on the door frame, crossing my arms. “Not until you tell me where we’re going,” I pout playfully hoping to get something out of him.

  He turns on his heel and starts off my porch.

  “Hey!” I titter. “This isn’t fair.”

  He turns spreading his arms to his side. “Coming or not?”

  I snatch my purse from the table and follow him to the truck. “You’re not playing fair.”

  He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Never intended to.”

  He takes the same scenic route as he did on our first date, down the same windy road, and then turns into his driveway. I don’t realize how nervous I am until the moment I step into his house. He clutches my hand and, without a word, leads us through his living room, past his cream colored sectional and out of the French doors to his back porch.

  “Trenton…” I trail off.

  He’s dec
orated just for tonight, covering a small square table with a gray cloth and centered roses in a tall vase. The sun is on its descent behind the trees, lighting the sky with a deep shade of purple, transforming into a lighter blue, and morphing into a soft orange glow. The lake lies still in the early light of dusk, deepening the romantic ambience and offering a spellbinding backdrop.

  From a stainless-steel cooler, just big enough for the bottle, he pulls out wine and pours me a glass.

  “It’s so beautiful out here,” I tell him taking the wine.

  “I was hoping you’d like it,” he says holding up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”

  He disappears into the house, quickly returning with a tray of fruits and cheeses. “Really hope you’re not starving.”

  I giggle. “I swear you’ve said before you’re not romantic.”

  “I can be. Take this as a thank you.”

  I’m bemused. “For what?”

  He pulls out his chair and takes a seat before answering me. “Nothing in particular, but everything specifically.”

  I laugh.

  He takes my glass from me, sets it on the table and pulls me into his lap. “For looking at me the way you do and smiling so beautifully.”

  Yep. I’m blushing.

  He runs his nose along my cheek. “I’ve made it a priority to engross your thoughts. Tell me, Angel, have I achieved it?”

  I feather a kiss over his temple. “You have.”

  “I want to be in your sights even when I’m not around,” he says.

  A faint smile pulls my lips up. “You are.”

  “I need you to understand when I love, I love immensely strong.”

  “Are you telling me—”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not saying anything, Angel,” he interrupts. “I’m merely warning you for the future.”

  “What if this is only lust?”

  Am I deliberately trying to run him off?

  “Do you believe in fate?” he counters.

  “I’ve never put much thought into it.”

  “The first time I saw you, the floor disappeared. You walked down the hall and rattled my brain for a reason. You fumbled on every nervous word for a reason. Attraction? Absolutely. But attraction doesn’t feel like this. Whatever this is, it’s taken over my existence.”

  I’m feeling brave as if the guards securing the vicinity around my heart have loaded their muzzles and are determined to protect what hasn’t already fallen for him. “What does this feel like to you?”

  His eyes dance between mine and his lips twitch. He stands, forcing me to my feet, and hustles into the house with me in tow.

  “What are we doing?” I ask following in his wake.

  He doesn’t answer and continues to guide us through the house and down a long hallway with several black picture frames. I can’t make out the images. I try stealing glances into each room we pass, but he’s moving too swiftly. I’m not able to catch but a bathroom and a room with workout equipment.

  We come to the end of the hall and into a bedroom holding a king-sized bed with black covers tucked tightly and gray pillows lining the top. He spins me in front of him and takes the sides of my head into his palms, crashing into my mouth. His tongue slides along my lips as he backs me up, pulling my shirt over my head. Wasting no time, he undresses us before placing me on the softest fucking bed I’ve ever felt.

  Resting his body against mine, his movements are purposeful and slow, energizing the blood coursing my veins. Soft touches scatter goosebumps over my skin as he feathers just the tips of his fingers along my thighs and up to my palms.

  Moonlight peeking through the blinds offers the only light and outlines his figure, concealing his flowing edges into the blackness. The same faint light allows just enough glow for me to see hints of his ardent gaze watching me and seeking something.

  He pushes into me, slowly.

  Delicate lips and touches ignite a warm, gentle heat to blanket over me. He rocks, pressing his body into mine, his chest rubbing against mine with a blissful friction. He tugs my bottom lip before kissing me slowly and steadily.

  There’s something behind it—intimacy.

  Our breaths are synced with quiet exhales. Our bodies are united, connecting on a deeper level…a soulful bond.

  I skim the sharp curves of his shoulder blades as we move together, scraping my fingers down the muscles of his back. Time seems senseless. Each breath holds a purpose.

  He clutches my hand and presses it against his chest and for this moment, the beat is so powerful, so robust, I can feel it throughout my body.

  He rests his lips against my ear. “What’s this feel like to you?” he sighs huskily with smoldering affection.

  Profound intimacy, I want to tell him. Falling completely in love…

  Instead, I tell him the next thing I feel safe saying. “Cherished.”

  “Completely,” he rasps, continuing to rock earnestly. “And every time I see you, it gets more intense. Further out of control.” He grazes my cheek with his lips. “Does this feel like lust to you?”

  I rock my head back and forth, unable to voice a damn thing, submersed by the overpowering, conquering passion erupting between us.

  One strong heave and I’m overcome with a startling, glorious feeling.

  He covers my mouth with his, absorbing my cries of delight and quickens his pace.

  My past, present and future sear behind my eyes. Blasts of my hopes, dreams and expectations flash vividly.

  “Angel,” he groans and it sounds like a silent plea, which slams me back on the ground just in time to witness him lose it, bucking wildly, and rooting deeply.

  He drops beside me, breathing savagely, and slides his arm under me, pulling me against him. His heartbeat is fierce as we lie here—my head on his chest, his arm tightly around my shoulder.

  He’s drawing circles on my shoulder, our breaths slow. “Stay with me,” he says into the dark.

  I smile. “I was hoping you’d ask that.” Truth be told, I don’t want to leave. Not after what I just felt. All these emotions are intense, but they don’t make me want to run away. Instead, they make me want to run into them without hesitation.

  He kisses the top of my head.

  “You feel safe,” I murmur because I’m still emotionally raw and I want him.

  “That’s because I am.”

  I peer up to him, sliding my head on his shoulder. “You always say the right things.”

  “I feel them. They’re not rehearsed, Angel.”

  “It’s different.”

  “I’m different.”

  “I know,” I say.

  “Do you?” His tone carries a seriousness.

  “Yeah.”

  “I want your love, Angel.”

  My heart stops, or maybe it jumps to my throat, or even drops to my stomach. I freeze without knowing what to say. “You’ve walked away from me once.”

  I feel like kicking my ass for saying the first thing that popped in my mind.

  “I had to. Even though I didn’t want to and it hurt like hell, I did it for you. I know it’s hard to end one thing and start another, especially after being devastated, but don’t step backward because you’re scared. Don’t look behind you. I’m not back there. I’m presenting you with a future, but I need you to see me.”

  “I do,” I say softly.

  “I’ve never been afraid to say how I feel, but I protect myself nonetheless. I know the time and place to lay claim to my words.”

  I don’t say anything.

  “Let yourself feel, Angel. I see it in your eyes you’re scared. Love is scary, but my promise stands. I’m not going anywhere. My plan is to have you. Make us something.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you to be so sensitive.”

  “I lost both parents so close together. I learned the hard way to always show how you feel. There are times it’s imperative I remain collected. But you’ll never worry where I stand with you.”

  “Where
do you stand?”

  He rests his forehead to my head. “Beside you.”

  Silence penetrates our conversation.

  I move, placing my head back on his chest and begin trailing the soft skin of his stomach. “He’s got the most beautiful hazel eyes with flecks of green that shimmer in the light and are more transparent in the mornings. He has a smile he wears every time I see him and it’s the sexiest I’ve ever seen.”

  “Who is this?” By his tone, he knows.

  I ignore his question and continue while my courage is still present. “I really like him, but truthfully, I’m petrified. I know if it’s too good to be true, more than likely it is and I don’t know if I’m good enough. I’ve got scars, recent ones that are still visible. They’re mad, ugly, red, and swollen from the fresh lashes across my heart.”

  “I can promise you the man you’re talking about already knows this and is taking his time to dress and nurse the open wounds. He’s a patient man who’ll wait for them to heal, but as he does, he’s going to fall in love. It’s out of his control. But I can guarantee you he’s holding your hand, tugging you down the fall with him.”

  I silence.

  He squeezes me. “Good night, Angel.”

  Chapter 25

  I wake up alone in an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by his scent embedded in the covers wrapped around me. I stretch and pull myself up taking in the room. The disheveled comforter and our clothes scattered on the floor brag about our mind-blowing night. The blinds are still pulled tightly, but behind them, the night has given away to the dawn as the sun channels through each crack in a vicious attempt to brighten the room.

  I gather my clothes and get dressed before setting out to find Trenton. The walls of the hallway hold images of what I’m assuming are his parents. His mother was a stunning woman with soft facial characters, shoulder-length blondish-silver hair and a dazzling smile, but he certainly gets his looks from his father. He’s a spitting image minus the salt and pepper hair. Their smiles are the same. The mischief in their eyes are identical.