One Blazing Night

by Jo Leigh

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, wait. If you do break something? Write down what you did, okay? I want to see if I can duplicate it, then create a fix.”

  “You’re such a geek.”

  She grinned for the first time since she’d left him that morning. “I know.”

  After she put her cell phone back at the edge of her work space, she felt Clark’s censure without having to look. He’d been grumpy all day. She couldn’t complain about it. This was taking up his Sunday, too.

  And Coulson, the prick, had been completely irrational about moving the deadline. Goddamn newbie. She was doing him a favor by even taking the contract. In her field, compromises were part of the landscape. There were too many unknowns to commit to anything hard and fast. It should have been a piece of cake. The upstairs crew were handling most of it on their own. But there’d been a problem with the power source that only Sam could fix.

  She was almost there. In fact, with a few more adjustments, she’d be able to run the 3-D simulation and make sure everything worked as planned.

  Then she’d get to see Matt. Though any time she got with him was now bittersweet, it was still more exciting than anything else in her life. Because it had an expiration date? Maybe. That was a better theory than the other—that she was completely, hopelessly in love.

  * * *

  MATT HAD A bruise on his chin that he hadn’t had that morning. It begged a lot of questions. Sam would ask, but she didn’t wake him. Not yet.

  She’d been later than she’d hoped, so it wasn’t a surprise he’d crashed. She liked watching him sleep, just as she had all those years ago on her sixteenth birthday. He looked comfortable on her ugly old couch. Friends had hinted that she might want to think about getting a sofa that didn’t look like something she’d found in a back alley. It was years out of date, but she didn’t care. The leather was worn in just the right places and it was perfect for watching TV or gaming. As if she had the time to do either.

  “Hey,” he said, in a croak that made something tug in her chest.

  “Hey. Sorry I was late.”

  “It’s okay. It stinks that you had to work.” He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. But he hissed in a breath at the move and winced for a good two seconds.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “What?”

  Sam pushed back the coffee table to give her room so she could sit down in front of him. “That bruise on your chin. The way you’re moving. Were you in an accident?”

  “No.”

  “What, then?”

  “I was working out. At a gym.”

  “Did you get into a fight over a machine or something?”

  Matt chuckled. “I was sparring.”

  “You mean how boxers spar?” Sam was almost afraid to touch him. “Because I don’t think you’re supposed to get hurt sparring.”

  “It’s not so bad. You should see the other guy.”

  “That isn’t funny.”

  “No, I’m serious. Juan looks a lot worse than me.” He laughed, but the wince came back and he touched his ribs.

  Sam reached over, lifted his blue henley and saw another couple of bruises right where he’d touched. “What the hell, Matt?”

  “Look, I can explain.”

  “Yeah, well, do that, please, while I get you some ice. Since when do you box?”

  “It’s a great workout, I swear. I’ve been doing it since college.”

  She pulled out a bag of frozen peas and two bottles of beer from the fridge. “I remember you occasionally had bruises, but you always gave excuses for them. I just thought you were clumsy. Why didn’t you say?”

  He applied the peas. “I didn’t want you guys to know.” With his free hand, he took a swig of beer. “It was a great way to get rid of pent-up energy. Punching the bag, then punching a sparring partner. I got into some mixed martial arts, too, and then, senior year, I did a little street fighting but quit fast. Too brutal for me. And my grades started slipping.”

  “Logan and Rick didn’t know?”

  “Logan figured it out. Gave me a hell of a lecture. But I never understood why. It’s a completely legit sport. Boxing, not the street fighting. Hell, he was into martial arts himself and going to the firing range... It doesn’t matter. It’s a sport, that’s all. This afternoon I went to my old gym. Just to say hi to the guys.”

  “That’s some ‘hi.’” She looked pointedly at his chin.

  “Complete accident. The helmet slipped.”

  “What happened to your ribs?” she asked. “Did your parents know?”

  “Jesus. No. Not then and not now.”

  Sam wondered why he hadn’t been at the apartment working, as he’d said he’d be, but she didn’t want to ask. “I don’t have to worry about you, do I?”

  “Yeah, but not about the boxing,” he said, his voice taking on a mischievous tone. “What you should be concerned about is the fact that we haven’t kissed once since you got home.”

  He leaned forward and she met him halfway, welcoming the feel of his lips on hers, his woodsy scent. But he pulled away too quickly for her liking.

  “Come over here with me.” He patted a spot on the couch. “I love your place, by the way. It’s totally you. The mantel with your action figures. Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Hermione Granger... Jean Grey from X-Men? I didn’t know they had one for her.”

  “They didn’t. I had it made for me. But now that I have a 3-D printer, I can make my own.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “Also? This couch is supercomfortable.”

  “Exactly,” she said, more emphatically than necessary. “Wait right there. I’ll be back in a sec. And points to you for knowing who everyone was on the mantel.”

  Sam hurried to her bathroom, where she found a big Ace wrap and a tube of arnica gel. He smiled at her return, causing a tingle to skitter all the way down her body.

  It felt both odd and intimate to be patching him up. Rubbing the ointment over his taut skin, then wrapping his chest, despite his protests.

  “I look ridiculous.”

  “You deserve it. Boxing. I’ll never understand it.”

  “It helps me let off steam.” He gripped her chin in his hand and pulled her into the first really good kiss since their morning had been interrupted. He teased her lower lip with the edge of his top teeth, then traced over the same part with his tongue. When Sam thought of all the men who’d kissed her, and there weren’t that many, Matt was in a class by himself. He made her nipples hard without even touching them, her thighs squeeze together with the flick of his tongue against hers. When her hand ventured up his thigh, she let him know it wasn’t a one-way dialogue.

  When they came up for air, Matt was breathing hard and smiling. “I’m so glad you’re home.” He grabbed his beer and leaned back, bringing her with him.

  “Wait,” she said when something poked her in the butt. “What’s...?” Sam found a picture frame that had been wedged behind the sofa cushion. “This is us.”

  “I found it on your mantel, too. Jesus, we were young.”

  “I was fifteen when this was taken.” She smiled at the images of Logan and Rick. “And you guys. Wow. I continue to be amazed that three such astonishingly hot guys were my protectors.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Except back then I was such a geek I didn’t know Logan and Rick were hot. But don’t tell them that.”

  “You didn’t mention me. Does that mean...?” Matt’s eyebrows were raised and he was grinning.

  “Shut up.” She smiled and studied the picture, thinking about what Kensey had shared with her about Matt covering the rent. Sam wished so much that she could thank him but she’d given her word. “You really were the best thing that could have happened to me back then. And after, when you took off to become a lawyer,
Clark swooped in and he was just as kind.”

  Matt took the picture from her and studied it, his smile melting into something else entirely. “I owe you a long-overdue apology.”

  “For not telling me about the boxing?”

  “No,” he said, meeting her gaze. “For the night you turned sixteen.”

  Heat spread through her like a wildfire. Of course she knew exactly what he was talking about. She could still see him so clearly, standing at her bedroom door, his hair rumpled, a lock falling across his forehead.

  He’d been at a party that night but rushed back to the dorm just past midnight. She’d been working late, unaware of the time. He told her he wanted to be the first to kiss her happy birthday. As if there would be a line.

  That night had been monumental to her. She’d already had a crush on him, but when he kissed her, she was a goner. She knew he’d simply intended to give her an innocent peck on the lips. But it hadn’t ended there. And it was all her doing. She’d pressed closer. Probably the bravest thing she’d ever done until that point. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it hadn’t bothered her. Before then, she’d hated the scent of beer, but she’d grown to love it over the years, starting with that night.

  The kiss had gone on a little bit longer, but when she’d parted her lips, he’d pulled away.

  “I should never have gone to see you when I was drunk,” he said.

  “It was sweet. I had such a massive crush on you.”

  “I know.”

  “What? How did you know?”

  “You’d just turned sixteen. You weren’t yet versed in the game. You were brilliant and also transparent. That’s what made what I did inexcusable. I didn’t realize I was being a tease. I let the alcohol take over whatever sense I had.”

  “But I wanted it. I was thrilled you’d kissed me.”

  “Thrilled? When I pulled back, you immediately thought you’d done something wrong. You begged me to try again, to teach you how to kiss me the way you should. You were so convinced you’d screwed things up, when you’d done nothing wrong. I felt like such a shit.”

  Sam shook her head, not remembering any part of what he’d described. “Are you sure this is me you’re talking about? I didn’t do any of that.” Her heart was thumping so hard she wondered if he could hear it. “Like you said, you were drunk. Maybe you don’t remember correctly.”

  “I wish...” He hung his head. “Evidently, being a prick sobered me up some. So sorry, Sammy. I think you might’ve rewritten some of that night. I can’t say I blame you. Then I made everything worse by falling asleep on your bed. Probably snored up a storm. And dammit, you were just a kid. I had no business being in your room at all.”

  “I’ll have to trust that you’re telling me the truth about what I did.”

  “You don’t recall me holding your hand while I sat next to you?”

  She nodded. He’d been so sweet. He’d told her she was young but he liked her anyway.

  “I told you that it was wrong that I’d kissed you. That you were too young, and then I asked you not to tell anyone. I made you promise to keep it from Logan and Rick. Do you remember that part?”

  “Perfectly,” she said. His recollection of that night’s events surprised her. She’d never felt resentful, and she didn’t now. Maybe a little sad that he’d spoiled her memories. She smiled, wanting him to believe that she didn’t hold him responsible for anything, even what happened afterward. “I must have blocked most of it out. All my recollections of that night have been ridiculously happy.”

  “Maybe, but you remember something else, don’t you?” He watched her closely, waiting, the regret in his eyes painful for her to see.

  “It’s nothing. It’s just—when you begged me to keep it a secret, I thought it was because you were ashamed of being with me. After that you hardly talked to me—”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, taking her hand. “I was ashamed of myself, not you. And I didn’t want to get my ass kicked by Logan and Rick.”

  “I can see that now.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Oh, my God, is that why you took up boxing? In case Logan and—”

  With a laugh, Matt brought her hand up for a quick kiss. “No, I’d already been going to the gym by then. But I admit I purposely kept my distance from you after that.” He looked into her eyes with a sincerity that brought a lump to her throat. “I hope I haven’t opened old wounds by filling in the blanks for you. I’m not sure I would’ve said anything if I had known that you remembered the night so fondly, but I’m sorry for that, too. Please forgive me, Sam.”

  “Oh, Matt.” She leaned in and kissed him hard. “Of course I do. In fact, you apologized to me that night.”

  He stroked her cheek. “Well, I’m glad that I somehow managed to find you again, now that we’re both older and wiser...”

  “Wiser? You?”

  “Hey,” he said, pulling her closer.

  “Your hobby is punching and being punched.”

  “First of all, I don’t have the time anymore. And second, there’s more to it than—”

  “I’ve seen the movies. No explanation is going to change my mind. Anyway, I don’t need to agree with everything you do to like you.” Or to be in love with him, she thought, but she would never tell him that.

  “And the reverse is also true, though I haven’t found anything I don’t like about you yet.” He leaned back and looked at her through squinted eyes. “You were captivating at the gala. Whether people knew who you were or not. I think you’ve overcome your social anxiety, Sam.”

  Sam rose and hoped her dismissive wave was enough to distract him. They had so little time left. It might ruin things if he knew that just looking at him gave her the same thrill as it had all those years ago. There were no two ways about it: she wanted this man. His friendship, his touch, his advice, his kindness.

  This was what love felt like. All the little things just fell into place. And as always, she was navigating this crazy new world of emotions alone.

  She knew they could never be together. She might have been useful on his arm for a night, but for the long run? They might as well live in different universes. Just knowing what his family thought about her would make it impossible for them to be together if he weren’t consumed with his job and she weren’t consumed by hers.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” he asked. “We haven’t planned out our night yet.”

  She stopped halfway to the kitchen. “Right,” she said, although they both knew where they’d eventually end up. “You have a choice, Wilkinson. Buffy marathon or ‘House of the Dead 2.’”

  “No way. You’ve still got ‘House of the Dead 2’? My God, woman. You’re a hoarder. That game came out in, what—”

  “In 1998.”

  “Hoarder! What would I find if I opened any of these other doors?”

  “Depends. If you’re lucky and don’t cry like a toddler when I kick your ass, you might find my bedroom behind one of them.”

  He was on his feet, frantically trying to unwrap his bandage. “First of all, I get a handicap.”

  “Why? Because you have a little bruise?”

  “Ha. Funny.”

  “Why, then?” She folded her arms, watching him fight the bandage. “We both know the game.”

  “You own the fucker. It’s been like eight years since I played it.”

  “What, you think I have time to play? And it’s a damn two-player game. You know I don’t like to play those solo.”

  “Fine. No handicap. And for the record, my ass isn’t the one that’s going to be kicked.”

  Sam giggled. She couldn’t help it. This was ridiculous, but she couldn’t wait to play him again. “You stay there. I’ll get the Wii. And the Perfect Shots. Oh, and dibs on being James Taylor.”

  “
Not fair.” Even Matt couldn’t deny he’d just sounded as if he were twelve. “God, you’re already cheating. You know I wanted to be him. I’m always James Taylor.”

  “Yeah, well, Gary, I suppose you’re just going to have to suck it up.”

  He caught her by the waist and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hard. “You know what I think?”

  “I’m afraid to ask. Who knows what goes on in that head of yours?”

  He gave her the half smile she liked so much. “I think we should have an appetizer first,” he said and bit her earlobe.

  She shivered in agreement.

  * * *

  “LOAD, YOU IDIOT, LOAD!”

  Matt turned the gun away from the game, seconds away from dying a horrible death at the hands of an ax-wielding headless killing puppet. His gun reloaded, he fired at the screen furiously until Kuarl was dead as a doornail. “Got ’im!”

  “Too bad you’re going to be killed by Zeal, sucker!”

  “Dammit, why didn’t you—”

  “We’re playing against each other. What am I supposed to do? Hold your hand?”

  The insult didn’t sting as much since he got to watch Sam slam her way through the Venetian labyrinth, killing zombies as if that were what she was born to do. There was no one in his life like her. She made him remember how it felt to be young again.

  Something caught inside his chest, and it had nothing to do with the injury he’d sustained in his sparring match. Nothing like that. Although an ache was the closest he could come to putting a name to the feeling. And he was pretty sure it had something to do with needing to tell her about London and then saying goodbye.

  She started screaming at him to shoot the damn zombies.

  Matt managed a smile.

  Goddammit. How was he supposed to move to London when he missed her already?

  15

  MATT WOKE UP SLOWLY, the scent of Sam and sex making him smile before he even opened his eyes. It was early, he knew that, and he hoped Sam was still sleeping. Moving slowly, he reached out to brush her arm, only to find nothing on the mattress but a note.