Chapter twenty one

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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

I thought that after the fight I'd had with Matthew the day before, my attraction to him would pull up short and go away. After all, I mentally concluded, what better way was there to douse the metaphorical flames of my passion than a screaming match with him in front of his parents.

I was wrong.

The air was particularly nippy and with the turning point to icy weather falling on a Friday, it didn't bode well for the weekend ahead. I felt darker than usual, my anger at Matthew having deflated, but barely. I wore faded charcoal jeans that hugged my skin and black boots with a small chunky heel and bright red laces. I'd zipped the black leather jacket I'd gotten for my birthday up over a grey sweater and a grey beanie that was the match to my fingerless wool gloves. I'd even done up my eyes darkly and opted to wear my contact lenses. It was as close to trying really hard as I got.

Matthew had accidentally dressed to match. He wore a sweater that was deep grey and made the color of his eyes look gold in contrast. The thick wool sat close but not tight. However it did mold to the hard, expansive planes of his chest and stretch across the width of his shoulders. It sat closer to his waist and tapered hips, emphasizing the square cut of his upper body and the V his body dropped towards. His jeans were black and those combat boots were on his feet again. As I turned around and saw him, he was getting into a black trench coat. I watched him button the coat and pop the collar up to shield his neck from the icy wind. He folded his arms and watched me watching him. He was absolutely gorgeous.

I glared.

He just looked at me. So I walked to the truck. He didn't say a word, just walked over and opened my door. He put a hand on my lower back to guide me, and I felt it deep in my core. I breathed in when I passed him, trying to be clandestine but unable to ignore the way he smelled. Like sea spray and mint and an undertone of lavender.

I was distracted and wearing shoes without much tread.

It was a cliché.

I raised my foot and tried to step on the foot rail. The ball, my weight fully pressed down on it, slipped off the edge. I wasn't going to kill myself, but I would bash my head into the door's roof and probably hit my shins pretty hard. I closed my eyes for the impact, but Matthew had the reflexes of a cat and threw an arm around my chest, catching my weight under my arms and helping me righten myself before I gave myself welts across my skull and legs.

"Why do you insist on closing your eyes and accepting whatever the hell is going to hurt you!?" he snarled, his breath hitting the shell of my ear and pulling up so my side was pressed to his chest. He sighed in an irritated gust, the warm air ruffling my hair and hitting the cartilage of my ear again. "Why do you take so much offence by it, God Damn!" I snapped, turning my face to glare at him. My hand was itching to rub down the ear he'd been breathing on to get rid of the tingles. I had to clench my fist to stop the urge, because it would be more than a little obvious.

"I take offence because for Christ's sake why the hell did I protect you from that asshole - any of them - if you're just going to close your eyes and accept being killed by something?"

So, I couldn't fault his logic.

"Fine." I snapped at him angrily. Realizing my tone was counter productive, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, Matthew filling my lungs. I blew it out and opened my eyes to find him smirking with an eyebrow raised. "You're right." it stung to say it. I watched his lips pull up at the corners. "I'm sorry, you're right."

I got to enjoy the sunrise, then.

Matthew smiling began in the upward turned twitch at the corner of his mouth that was his familiar smirk, which somehow curved up the rest of his lips. His eyes lit up and suddenly he was fully grinning at me, looking genuinely amused. "I'm right?"

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