Chapter 3 - "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."
Unsurprisingly, Matt didn't cancel on Sunday. As far as he knew, if I didn't spend the afternoon with him, I'd be spending it with Sam. Small things like that bothered me to a certain extent because it was almost as though he didn't trust me.
He knew I'd never cheat—or at least I hoped he did. If he had any idea how strongly I felt about him then he'd know I'd never stray. Then again, we didn't talk about it much because he claimed that he wasn't very good at talking about feelings. His usual line was 'you know how I feel about you'. Sometimes it was still nice to be told, though. He could say it enough over text but wasn't comfortable talking about it face-to-face.
Right now, as we kissed passionately on his sofa, it was hard to believe that Matt didn't want my company. It was the same every time. We didn't spend much time together at school, but when we were alone it was a completely different story. As I deepened the kiss, he pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. My fingers twisted in his hair as he pressed me closer against his body, sliding his hands under my top.
When the kiss came to a halt, he smiled sweetly at me, looking at me as though I was everything he'd ever wanted, like I was amazing and special. Kat could say what she liked about Matt's feelings, but how could I possibly believe he didn't feel anything when he looked at me like that? People could lie easily and say things they didn't actually feel, but you couldn't fake a look like the one Matt was giving me. There was so much passion in his eyes, yet mixed with tenderness and love.
"What?" I smiled, stroking his face tenderly.
"Nothing. I'm just thinking."
"About what?"
"About how lucky I am," he replied with a smile, his hands sliding to my hips.
My own smile widened and as I opened my mouth to reply, my phone started to ring.
"Who's that?" Matt asked casually, his hands stroking my hips, kneading me gently.
"It's okay. I can ignore it." I leant back to his mouth to resume the kissing but he moved his head away.
"It's fine. Answer it."
My heart sank as I looked at the caller ID. Sam. Perfect. I answered it, though, because if I didn't then that would seem even more suspicious to Matt.
"Hey," I said brightly. "What's up?"
"Hey yourself. What time can you play tennis today?" Sam asked. "I'm thinking...four?"
"Don't I get any say whatsoever in this decision?"
"No. So when can you play?" he persisted.
"I can't, Sam. I'm with Matt right now."
Matt had been staring out of the window, but upon hearing Sam's name, his head snapped back around to me with interest.
"I'm sorry," I told him sincerely. "We'll play next weekend."
"You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do."
Matt was apparently regretting his decision to let me answer the phone. In an attempt to distract me from Sam, he leant to my neck and started to seductively kiss me, his tongue darting between his lips every so often. It felt criminally good.
Despite dating for almost a year, Matt had only recently discovered how much I enjoyed my neck being kissed. That was probably because it had taken a while for our physical relationship to progress. Matt had been a virgin, too, and he'd been too nervous to make any of the first moves. It was only within the last month or so that he'd started to try different things to see if I liked them. And even those different things were probably completely normal to most couples, not to mention completely normal to do within the first month of a relationship, never mind a year...
"No, you don't mean it," Sam insisted. "You're only saying it to satisfy me for now. And then you'll blow me off next weekend too."
"I'm just not so great anymore, Sam," I admitted, trying not to let the pleasure show in my voice. I attempted to lean away from Matt but his hand slid to my back, pulling me closer.
"How is that a problem? It would be humiliating if you beat me, anyway."
Matt was now dragging down the neck of my t-shirt, exposing more skin to kiss. As he got dangerously near to my cleavage, I decided it was probably best to end the call with Sam.
"I've got to go now, Sam," I told him quickly. "See you tomorrow."
And then I put the phone down as soon as he'd mumbled an unimpressed goodbye in return. Tossing my phone onto the table, I took hold of Matt's face in my hands, locking my eyes onto his.
"That was very cruel," I told him, trying to remain serious.
A playful, yet devious smirk played upon his lips. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."
We kissed heatedly for two minutes, and just when I was about to contemplate removing clothing, he pulled away. My lips were tingling from where he'd been ferociously kissing them, but Matt didn't seem quite as flustered as I did.
"So what did he want?" he asked casually, extending his arms above his head to stretch.
I slid off his lap and resumed my place next to him. I could always tell when Matt was no longer interested in getting hot and heavy, and I wasn't prepared to face another rejection by attempting to carry on with the kissing.
"He was pestering about that match we were supposed to play this afternoon."
"Oh, was that today?" he asked, as if he'd genuinely forgotten. He didn't fool me; I knew he'd remembered otherwise he wouldn't have made such a song and dance over Sam talking to me at lunch the other day.
"Yeah. But I didn't want to play anyway, to be honest."
Matt's arm slid around my shoulder and I snuggled down into him, feeling at ease again as I rested my head on his chest.
"You used to be good at tennis," he said.
"Well, I haven't played in a while."
"You should take it up again. You loved playing."
"I don't have much time at the moment."
"Do you remember when we had that tennis match in the summer?" Matt asked, laughing to himself as he recalled the memory. "You were such a sore loser!"
"I was not a sore loser!" I disputed. "I was just frustrated because I'm a much more skilful player than you, and yet you beat me on pure fitness and dirty tactics!"
He laughed again. "I don't call standing at the net dirty tactics. It's not my fault you couldn't get the ball past me."
"Well, whatever. You know I'm actually much better than you."
"If you say so," he teased, but he kissed my forehead softly to show he was only messing around. "We should play together again sometime soon, though. It'd be a shame to waste your potential."
The conversation came naturally, without any effort to keep it going. Being with Matt in general felt natural and right. We'd been friends for seven years and gradually grown closer. At one point, I'd even considered him my best friend, and I think that was maybe the point that the lines between platonic feelings and romantic feelings became blurred. We talked constantly, about anything. We spent every minute at school together, and then we'd text for hours into the night. It was almost ironic that now we were actually in a relationship, Matt didn't seem keen to spend so much time talking to me at school.
Despite that, though, he was still the one person I could confide in who I knew wouldn't judge me, and he was the one person who was always guaranteed to make me feel better. Dating had just felt like a natural step. Kat would never understand how hard it would be to give that up, to pretend it had never happened and to move on with my life, without Matt in it. Maybe things weren't perfect all the time, but no relationship was perfect. This made up for it, though. I couldn't imagine having this with another person, this easiness of being together. Matt knew all my flaws. I knew all of his. He was always honest with me, but sensitively honest, a skill that Kat was yet to master. To an outsider, like Kat, maybe it did appear that he didn't treat me that well, but she didn't see us alone and understand how good he could be.
Over lunch, something else hit me. I'd miss his family. Thinking about splitting up with Matt was something that was on my mind a lot, mainly because Kat kept bringing it up. But it was something that upset me. He was a huge part of my life and I just wished Kat would realise that. She was so obsessed with us breaking up that she refused to accept how I actually felt and how a separation might affect me.
"How are your family, Isobel?" Matt's mum asked me.
"They're fine thanks," I replied politely, trying to disguise the flavour of the baked beans by embedding them in mash potato for each mouthful. I hated baked beans, but I'd always been too shy to admit that to Matt's family. And as time went on, it became too late to admit that I hated them, and so I just had to quietly get on with it and hope that my taste buds would develop and eventually accommodate the foul flavour.
As we headed back up to his room after dessert, Matt's younger sister, Emily, called to me from inside her bedroom
"Izzy! Help me with this?" she asked pleadingly, appearing in the doorway.
Matt's arm wound around my waist. "She doesn't have time, Em. She's leaving in an hour."
"It's fine," I told her, shooting Matt a quick, reassuring smile. "It won't take long. What's up?"
I followed her into the bedroom and stood behind her chair while she explained the work to me on her computer.
"We're supposed to translate these for homework but I left my book at school and I don't know some of the words—"
"Use a translator?" Matt suggested impatiently.
"Matt, it won't take a second," I assured him, my voice firmer this time.
Ignoring his protests, I began to help her out with the Spanish words that she didn't know. Matt's hand slid around my waist again, squeezing slightly to remind me of what I was missing out on by helping his sister. He'd already made a comment about me leaving in an hour, so I knew exactly what he was wanting to do.
Ten minutes later, the work was done. Emily thanked me profusely, while simultaneously glaring at her brother, and then we continued to Matt's room. He sat down on the bed and immediately switched on the television.
"It's just quicker than typing all the words into a translator," I explained, taking a seat next to him.
"I guess," he murmured, flicking through the channels.
I inched closer and waited for him to put his arm around me. He didn't. He settled on a channel and then leant backwards, resting against the wall with his hands linked behind his head in a relaxed pose.
"Are you pissed?" I asked bluntly.
"Why would I be pissed?" he replied calmly, not taking his eyes from the screen.
I ignored him, refusing to entertain his immature mood-swing; I certainly wasn't going to apologise when I hadn't done anything wrong.
We didn't spend my last fifty minutes doing what we'd planned, but that was so often the case. Sometimes it was like Matt didn't care if we made the most of our time together or not. I'd just learnt to accept that. After all, relationships weren't just about the physical side of things.
At three o'clock, Dad texted me to say he was outside. Matt walked me to the door and we shared a brief hug and a peck on the lips. I waited for a few seconds as we gazed into each other's eyes.
When it became clear that Matt had no intention of saying anything else, I simply smiled and said bye once more before pulling the door open and heading down the path to meet my dad. I didn't understand the big deal. Matt said he loved me enough times over text; didn't he realise it would mean more if he said it to my face? I'd never said it to his face, but purely because I didn't trust him to say it back. And that ate away at me more than Matt probably realised.
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Thank you for reading :)xx