CHAPTER TEN

Buttery light fell across our bare feet padding down the carpeted corridor as Matt's fingers loosely pulled me towards the pitch dark living room. Outlines of furniture casted shadows across the walls, my eyes making humans out of their shapes.

"It's a little creepy out here at night," I whispered, eyeing the slender black mass forming near where I'd seen a standing lamp earlier.

Matt tried poorly to stifle a laugh, and I could make out his head shaking in the low light. The back of his hair was a mess of matted down waves, and somehow that only made him hotter. The butterflies in my belly started flapping so hard, it was difficult to hear over the sound of them mixed with the pounding in my chest.

Matt led us through the kitchen down into an alcove Chris hadn't shown me on our tour. I squinted against the dark towards a tall rectangular shape to which I assumed was a door. I leaned into Matt's back. "You're not about to murder me are you?" I whispered jokingly. But really, where were we going?

"I guess you'll just have to trust me," he breathed.

Well, that was reassuring.

A piercing screech came from the hinges as Matt eased the door open wide enough for us to slip through. I sucked in a breath at the shrill noise, worried it would wake the others, but the breath left my lungs just as quickly as it had entered when I registered what we were looking at.

Milky moonlight poured in from all angles, bathing the sunroom from floor to ceiling. All around the room were miscellaneous bean bags, patterned throw pillows, and a two-person loveseat positioned against the back wall facing panoramic windows, offering a full view of the woods adjacent to the cabin.

An involuntary gasp escaped my lips as I followed the view upward. The sunroom's roof had been constructed out of slanted glass that made it look like you were standing outside beneath the sky. The stars seemed to have tripled since we first went to bed, blanketing the night in pinpricks of light.

Matt clicked the door closed behind him, stepping down into the room beside me. "What do you think?" he said, a little above a whisper.

My mouth was practically dragging on the floor as I took in our surroundings. A pleased smile spread across his face.

"It's...it's-" I couldn't find the right word. Amazing? Stunning?

Breathtaking.

"I know," he finished for me, walking to stand in front of the windows. A thin veil of mist settled along the glass. I traced a runaway dewdrop as it raced towards the ground.

"Chris didn't show me this," I said.

Our shoulders were touching and I could feel his rise an inch. "This has been my favorite place since we were kids. He probably assumed I'd show you eventually." There was so much affection in his voice, I didn't stop myself when my fingers found their way to his and gave them a delicate squeeze.

All of the sexual tension I'd felt earlier had softened into something far more intimate. This whole time I'd been scared of talking too much about myself, my past, believing it would scare the boys off, but now, I understood that that was my brain's last ditch effort at control. Deep down a part of me was clinging onto the idea that if I kept my walls up it would force them to stop trying to break through, and prove to myself they were no different than anyone else who'd let me down. But that perception couldn't have been further from the truth.

I held onto Matt's hand as we stared longingly out into the night. Our breaths leaving patches of fog along the panes.

"What do you love so much about it?" I asked. Though the view alone was reason enough.

Matt was watching a raccoon waddle across the tree line followed closely behind by two babies. Their plump bodies rocking back and forth with each step.

"Believe it or not, I enjoy being alone." He pulled his gaze away from the animals.

Every time I looked at him it was like my brain was sent into overdrive, rerouting his features, discovering new details I hadn't noticed before. Shadows contoured his cheekbones, intensifying the heavy look in his normally light eyes. His face was relaxed, but the muscles in his jaw protruded slightly, carving out the sides of his face as if he'd been hand-chiseled.

Forcing myself to stop thinking about his mouth, his jaw, I blinked the intrusive thoughts away, centering myself. "But you're not alone now?"

I'd forgotten that our fingers were still intertwined until he ran a thumb along the inside of my wrist, sending electricity through my veins.

When we'd first met he told me, Sometimes it's nice to get away from all the noise. I'd assumed he meant the never-ending party life of Los Angeles, but really he meant all of it. The vlogging, the streaming, the guest appearances. Part of me felt that he even meant away from his brothers, though I knew it wasn't because he didn't want to be around them, but rather that he needed a place to let it all go.

Hesitantly, I snaked my free arm around his waist, worried he'd pull away. Instead, he dropped my other hand and wound his arms around my back, bringing me in until I was flush against his chest. The muscles roped in his forearms, tightening their hold on me. I relaxed against his embrace, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

From the outside, we probably looked like two people who desperately just needed to be held, and if his heart wasn't pulsing so furiously beneath my cheek I would have been inclined to agree, but this was so much more than that. Did I think we both were leaning into the fact that the other was willing to feed their emotional needs? Sure. Was there a very high probability that this puddle of feelings splashing around my chest was nothing more than my brain's way of trying to make sense of an uncertain situation? Absolutely.

But seeing past all of that, my heart was telling me that Matt was breaking himself open, showing me who he was down to his core. And that realization made me feel more connected and vulnerable than I ever had with my clothes off.

-

For hours, we lounged across bean bags in front of the windows, talking quietly. Time stopped existing as we watched the world dream, the only noise other than our voices came from the hushed drumming of rain that had started up again.

"I haven't really thanked you for how kind you've been to me," I started, keeping my eyes trained on the stars above.

Matt shuffled in his bean bag, the vinyl cover rustling. "You don't have to thank me."

He was being sincere. I had a feeling that he could take a bullet for me and that would still be his answer.

"But I do." I lulled my head to the side, facing him. He was already staring at me, that same indecipherable look on his face that I was beginning to believe never went away. "You don't understand how much your presence has meant to me the last few days." You don't know how badly I never want it to leave.

"I have a pretty good idea." He held my gaze.

Why was it so much easier to open up in the dark? Even though the room was bathed in - what was probably now early-morning shadow - it felt effortless exposing myself, letting all of my innermost thoughts spill out. With Matt, and Nick and Chris, I knew they'd be safe -- I'd be safe. I never wanted this night to end.

"You and I aren't that different," Matt said, propping his head up on his arms.

He must've felt the incredulous look on my face because a smirk tugged at the corners of his pale lips.

"Don't give me that look." He smiled, and I rearranged my face.

"What look? I'm not giving you a look."

A single tendril of dark hair fell across his eyes as he rolled his head to look at me. I wanted to brush it away so I could see through him the way he saw through me.

"Yes you were. You had that 'how could we possibly be the same' look plastered across your face. Don't lie," he said casually.

I huffed. "Fine. I did. But in my defense, what'd you expect?"

He rolled onto his side, facing me fully, and I did the same. I raised a brow urging him to explain.

"You're right, we couldn't be more different when you look at the basics. My upbringing is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum from yours and I live a glamorous lifestyle in comparison." The sarcasm wasn't lost on me. "But, that's not what I'm talking about."

His fingers grazed the spot above my heart causing a breath to spill from my parted lips. He pressed subtly.

"You're missing something in here. We all are. That's why you agreed to contacting your father, isn't it? Because no matter what you tell yourself, a piece of you is holding out hope that if you meet him, you'll finally find what you've spent your whole life searching for."

I was staring dumbly at him. Where the hell did that come from? Suddenly, I felt too exposed. My mouth went dry as the Mojave.

Was I possibly this transparent?

What aggravated me the most was that I wished he was wrong. That none of what he'd just said was true, but of course it was. All of it. That was exactly how I'd felt my whole life. Going through each day trying to ignore the dull throbbing in my sternum. Choking back tears when I saw friends, even strangers, having "father-daughter dates." But none of that yearning made up for the fact that my father knew I existed. He knew I was growing up in a deadbeat town with a mother who never found a way to stitch herself back together, and yet, he made the active choice to stay gone. Still, here I was, praying to a God I don't believe in, that seeing me in person would somehow change his mind.

And hearing how pathetic it sounded coming from Matt only made the ache in my chest heavier.

I locked in on his face. "Then what are you searching for?" The words came out breathless, desperate. If I was going to feel this vulnerable, so was he.

A shadow fell over his features, darkening his irises. I watched them flit back and forth from my lips up to my eyes. He leaned in closer until our noses were almost brushing. I held my breath.

"When I find out, you'll be the first to know."