Okay, so this story is getting ultra-complicated, but I'm really, really loving it. Please stick with me! Love yall forevs and evs. Please note this glorious gif of Matty, opening those purty eyes. How hot are his little freckles tho???
{Play "Campus" by Vampie Weekend, and "Heavy Metal Heart" by Sky Ferreira}
ONE MONTH LATER
{Claire's POV}
The library at uni was quiet, the smell of dated paper saturatning my nose, the sounds of papers shuffling and keys tapping a joyful murmur in my ears. I was cradling my Hello Kitty thermos of coffee in one hand, and my math textbook in another, trying to make sense of the letters and symbols with no avail.
It was a week from Halloween, and I was stressed out, as usual. Matty and the boys were in the studio from mid-morning until late at night, making my precious time with him scarce. I longed for the days of pillow-talk, and late breakfasts with him; now they were far and few between.
I was so happy for he and his boys, though. They were living out their wildest dreams, and I was set to see them record tomorrow morning. Being the good girlfriend that I am, I had planned to bring a basket of blueberry muffings and coffee to give them fuel so that they could work their magic.
Nautrally, I had Facebook stated the fuck out of Harper Halifax the minute I realized she was Matty's ex (sort of) and that the two would be spending a lot of time together in the studio. Matty loved me, I know, but the uneasy feelings crept up the back of my spine nonetheless. Harper was going to be in the studio with him, tuning all of their instruments and assisting the producers as Matty played songs he fucking wrote about her years ago.
Harper was really pretty, no surprise there. She had dark auburn hair and was petite and sweet-faced, but you could tell she was stone-cold on the inside. Matty never gave me the full story.
"It's not even worth telling, love," he had assured me over and over.
But I knew it was. Especially when Tinsley mentioned some of the post painful, gorgeous songs Matty had never written were about her.
I sipped my coffee once more, the pumpin spice fueling my soul as I continued trying to make sense of my math book. Matty was one of those rare gems who excelled at both right and left-brained studies, but I was strictly right brained. I was also squirming by my math class with a C.
A fucking C.
I'd begged my professor to bump it to a B, to give me extra credit opportunities, but he hadn't budged. Instead, he'd suggested I hook up with a free tutor at the library. Groan.
"Well, if it isn't Claire the Arsonist," I heard an American voice say behind me.
I looked up from my book to see a vaguely familiar face. One that I had only seen one night, several months ago.
"Hi," I looked up at Nick, the guy who I had fake-flirted with and unintentionally burned with the cherry of my cigarette. "How's your arm?"
Nick smiled. "All better."
Nick sat his leather side-bag down on the table and pulled out some text books, one matching mine. He was really handsome, in a American Jew kind of way. His arms were muscular, his eyes a gorgeous shade of hazel, more green than my slightly more brown.
He took his hipster-preppy looking jacket off and slung it across the chair before eyeing my Hello Kitty mug.
"Cute," he said, opening up the textbook and rummaging through his bag to get a pen.
I didn't know how to respond to this, because I couldn't quite detect his sarcasm.
"I almost forgot you were American," I said to him in a library-appropriate voice.
Nick put his pen in his mouth and flipped through his textbook to see where I was at.
"USA all the way, babe," he murmured. "Page 239 right?"
I nodded.
"Small world," I said.
Apparently, I was doing my homework completely wrong. I was so behind that Nick had to turn two chapters back to get me on track, and I still wasn't able to completely wrap my head around the mathematical jargon he was spitting. He was engineering major and could multiply and divide Albert Einstein level shit in his head, where was I could barely recite my times tables.
Matty usually helped me with my math homework, but our limited time together was reserved strictly for having sex and fawning over each other.
An hour later, when I felt like I was going to stroke out if Nick said the word "syntax" one more time, he suggested we take a break and have coffee in the shop next to the library. The autumn air was silly, but I adored it so. The leaves were all gold and auburn and the sounds they made were heaven.
Nick pulled out my chair for me and sat at the table across from me while each of us enjoyed our pumpkin spice lattes. On the outside, he was a handsome, intelligent young man, bearded and well-spoken. On the inside, he white-girled just as much as I did over the PSL life.
I was cozy in my cable-knit sweater, leggings and grey infinity scarf, and Nick was wiggling out of his Express coat as we sipped coffee and talked about mising the states. My eyes quickly scanned the intricate tattoo on his bicep, and my fingertips reached across the little table raise the fabric of his shirt.
"My grandfather liked telescopes," Nick explained the gorgeous black tattoo on his arm, a Leo symbol that started at the top of his bicep and ended just near his elbow.
"That's really neat," I said.
"What about you?" his hazel eyes glistened.
I tossed my infinity scarf across my shoulder and pulled the fabric of my sweater down, exposing my half-moon tattoo that adorned my collar bone.
"I got it a couple weeks ago. Georgie has one, too" I explained, recalling the night my best friend and I got friendship tattoos.
George's was on his wrist.
Nick sipped his coffee and nodded. "Cool. Is George your boyfriend?"
I shook my head and smiled. "No, no. He's my best friend. Matty's my boyfriend."
I could say it a hundred times and never believe it.
"Ah, little guy from the bar? He reminds me of a white Prince," Nick laughed to himself.
I giggled at his association. Matty loved Prince.
"He and George's band actually are recording an album now. They're going to be a big deal, it's great," I smiled to myself, still so proud of my boys.
Nick returned my smile, his lips framed perfectly by his little beard.
"No shit? They're pretty good."
I reached for my phone and texted Matty to see what time he'd be home tonight. I didn't want to disrupt his work, his art, but I was really craving him right now. The thought of going home to an empty apartment with nothing but a muted TV and endless novel-reading used to thrill me, but now a day wasn't complete without my man to send me off into the night.
"What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked Nick.
Nick bit his full lip and raised a brow. "Not exactly."
A chuckle came from my lips when I realized how much my father would like Nick Cohen, aside from the tattoo. He was an All-American boy, born and bred in Brooklyn. He was tall, dark, handsome, and absolutely worshipped all of my father's favorite things: football, baseball, Bob Dylan, and the effects of climate change.
Nick had big dreams, and something about him made me understand he'd reach every one of them. I also quickly realized how much I liked hanging out with him, even if he was just babbling about math.
"I have to run," I said, standing up gathering my belongings. "I have Women's Lit in fifteen minutes."
Nick and I said our good byes and I turned on my heel to walk away from him, but his large, warm hand cupped mine as I had turned my back to him.
"Wait," he said, his fingers lacing into mine briefly before taking my phone and tapping his thumbs against the screen, entering his phone number.
"Text me if you get lost in numbers," he winked.
I smiled at him.
"Will do."
=
{Harper's POV}
(flashback//two years ago//)
Matty was perfectly nestled against me in his bed, our solace in this wild, wicked world.
He had just fucked me senseless, for the third time tonight, and was kissing the tattoo I'd gotten for him months ago, just under my left breast. It was a drunken, stupid mistake of a tattoo, but that was essentially my relationship with him.
The tattoo was a black ink of the chrods to a song called "Sex", which he'd written about me. I know I'd have it blacked out someday. But for now, he had branded me. And even when I looked at my reflection in the mirror, gazing at whatever I'd eventually cover it up with, I know I'd still feel his body against mine, his voice in my ear.
"I love you," Matty whispered, his delicious mouth meeting my tattoo.
"No you don't," I giggled at him.
Matty perked his head up, his long mohawk flopped to one side, just framing his gorgeous chocolate brown eyes.
"What does it matter if I lie to you?" his devlilish lips formed a smile.
I playfully shoved him off of me, because I knew my boyfriend would be expecting me in half an hour. But Matty was back on top of me in a flash, his mouth kissing up my jawbone and meeting my ear.
"I said, I fucking love you Harper," he said forcefully into my hear.
His handsome face was a stretch the neck away from my own.
He was my world, although he never intended to be. I knew he didn't mean it when he said he loved me, but him murmuring "I love you Harper" into my hear could be the last phrase I ever heard and I would die happy.
"I love you," I spoke into his mouth.
And then, once again, his body was all over mine.
=
"She's got a boyfriend, anyway," Matty's voice rang into the microphone of the studio as I watched he and the boys record.
The boyfriend he was singing about was called Alex, and he and I had broken up the instant he'd caught Matty and I in a compromising position, me bent over the cocaine-dusted bathroom counter of a club The 1975 played at back in the day.
Matty was so coke-fueled and drunk that he didn't even notice at first. I was gasping from his thrusts, gasping from the look on Alex's face.
I loved Matty that way. The way we were. The drugs coursing through our veins, the sweat of our bodies, the way his mouth moved when he spoke the words that stole my heart.
He was different now. Less dark. There was a light about his face, his voice pleasant as he could occasionally mention Claire. His hair was longer, a luxurious curly mop, and his body was adorned with more tattoos.
I was different as well. I was still a party-girl, but I saved the wild nights for weekends only, staying focused on my job. I'd been in an out of rehabs, never fully recovering from my vices. Matty probably hadn't either, he still smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish. He was still the most handsome thing I'd ever laid my big blue eyes on.
"Claire's here," he said as I was adjusting Adam's headphones for the boys to beging their next song.
I had rolled my eyes. Not that I was bitter, I was certainly happy for him. But whoever Claire was, she was surely mistaken if she thought Matty was apparently this changed man, now soft as a hotel pillow now.
Hotel pillows.
I bit my lip in amusement, remembering the time Matty and I had taken the weekend to explore Paris. Remembering how good the drugs were, how beautiful the city was, how loud I screamed into the hotel pillow when he gave me his all.
My eyebrows raised, nonverbally asking Adam if he could hear okay.
Adam gave me a thumbs-up. He was always such a sweetie, and my absolute favorite.
George was still the same, too. Big, goofy, really hot. Ross was his usual laid-back self, but had a sense of maturity about him now that he was apparently going to be a father.
A light-tap on the door made me cock my head and swing my red locks across my shoulder.
"Claire-Bear!" George grinned, shoving his headphones down to his neck and getting up to twirl her around.
Claire was apprently George's best friend, and by how tight he was grabbing her, I had no doubt in my mind that they'd fucked around before. She was pretty, big eyes, long, dark hair, a curvy figure framed by a longsleeved black top and high-wasited skinny jeans. Very girl-next door looking.
I supressed a smile when I realized Matty was probaly the first boy that ever made her orgasm. How boring was she
"And I brought muffins," Claire smiled as George put her down.
My smile faded when Matty took Claire from beneath George's arm, and wrapped his own arms around her. He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, and whispered something (probably extremly dirty) into her ear that made her blush.
She brought her thumb to his mouth to wipe the lipstick off of it, but he just kissed her some more.
Ugh.
"I brought muffins and coffee," Claire said.
"Mmm, I love your muffins," Matty mumbled.
Double ugh.
I scoped out the area of the recording studio, trying to configure my exit strategy. I was over Matty, but I wasn't quite ready for this. Not sweet, innocent, dumb Claire oozing over everything Matty did.
She had no idea who he really was.
"You okay, Harp?" Adam asked me, taking a headphone from his ear.
I gulped. "Just dandy."
"Hi!" Claire's voice chirped as she rushed over to me and shook my hand.
Her teeth were so pearly white and perfect, like she'd had braces and dental work from a dentist to the stars. Her makeup was flawless. She smelled like fucking flowers and vanilla frosting as she stood close to me, the notes of the luxury perfume her likely rich and snobby parents had probably bought her.
Man, Matty must have had the time of his life seducing this one.
"Hello," I gritted my teeth.
Matty was still all smiles, pretending like this wasn't one of the most awkward moments of his life.
"I'm Claire McDaniel, Matty's girlfriend," she said, still shaking my hand.
Matty was still cradling her opposite hand like it was a fabrege egg.
So gross.
"Yep," I nodded, removing my hand from hers and sticking it in my back pocket. "Ah, Harper."
Perfect priss Claire walked around like a pageant queen, handing the boys their muffins and coffee, and chatting briefly with Ross about how Tinsley was starting to show. George devoured the muffin in about four bites then poked her shoulder for another.
"What are we doing next, Harper?" Matty asked.
The way he said my name still made my whole body crave him.
I reached for the notes on the producer's desk. "Chocolate," I told him, not making eye contact.
"A bit compression," Matty requested, and I gave it to him, adjusting his mike before sitting down on the lounger.
Claire sat right next to me and I groaned internally. She crossed a thick thick over the other and was smiling ear to ear. Matty winked at her and put his headphone back on before George and Adam came in the with the beginning of the song.
I nodded my head nonchalantly along, thinking of countless times I'd heard this song. Subconciously, my lips moved with every word Matty sang.
So were Claire's, her full lips mouthing the words "guns hidden under our petticoats."
She probably thought the song was actually about chocolate.
I had to endure Claire's head bobbing and cheerleading throughout "Heart Out", "M.O.N.E.Y.", and "Talk", and Matty's endless winking and smirking at her.
I was relieved when the boys decided to pause for lunch, and seriously contemplated not returning from mine if Miss California was still going to be here.
Through eavesdropping, I'd heard that Claire was meeting her friend Nick to study. What the hell did she and Matty even talk about? Jesus H. Christ.
"Bye, Georgie," Claire said to George, reaching on her tippy toes to embrace him.
The two "friends" kissed each others cheeks, and George's hand was a little too close to her ass.
Of course, Matty laid a big, soft kiss on her lips as they said their goodbyes and he again whispered something into her ear that made her blush.
He never did things like that with me. I was probably the only girl who that shit didn't work on. If anything, I'd have been the one to make the blushing happen in our relationship.
Claire trotted her happy ass out of the studio, and the rest of the group followed her. Matty was guzzling a water bottle and I went to opposite of the room to grab my purse. I needed Chinese food and a cigarette, stat.
"Hey," Matty said before I walked out the door.
The two of us hadn't spoken many words, and I much preferred it that way.
"What's up?" I asked him, turning around on my black Converses in the door frame.
Matty stepped toward me, his body resting comfortably against the doorframe. Mine was on the opposite side, and I was cozy as well. If I wanted to, I could pull him in right now and he'd be caught in my web, no mercy shown.
"We're cool, right?" he asked.
Oh, the dreaded conversation regarding the status of our forming fling turned professional relationship. I didn't want to have it. It was just an excuse for Matty to use big words and feel better about himself.
"Ice cold," I nodded.
His mouth twisted up in a half smile and he placed a cigarette in the corner of his lips.
"Great," he said, palming his pockets for a lighter and completely ignoring the fact that we were in a non-smoking building.
"Cool," I said, rolling my eyes a little and starting to twist around.
But Matty grabbed my wrist and brought me towards him. I blinked up at him, my face incredulous as he worked those chocolate brown eyes and the smirk still plastered on his face.
Matty's arm wrapped around my waist and his fingertips went into my back pocket, plucking out my lighter.
I bit my lip at his flirtation.
He brought the flame to his cigarette and took a long, slow drag from it, his eyes still on me as he exhaled.
"Thanks, Red," he said, putting the lighter into my palm and walking away from me, his lanky frame meandering slowly down the hall.
I blinked.
He hadn't called me Red since the last time we slept together.