Chapter Twenty-four
True Art
REMINGTON'S POV
I heard it from outside the cottage. The faint sound of music; the deep base drawing me in as I unlocked the front door and quietly stepped inside.
There was a strong smell of coffee, and I smiled as I heard a voice singing along with the music. I didnât mean to sneak in, but I wanted to see what was going on. The kitchen door was open, and I leaned against the door frame, a huge smile spread across my face as I took in the scene before me.
Matthew was standing with his back to me, a crutch under one arm as he made toast. The music blared, and he bobbed around, shaking his ass in a way that had me both chuckling and aroused. He stumbled a little but steadied himself against the kitchen counter, and the song changed. It was fast, a club song, with rather provocative lyrics.
My eyes nearly fell out of my head as Matthew started shaking his ass, twerking in the kitchen. Or, at least, what I assumed was twerking. It wasnât as if I had the faintest idea what that really was, other than glimpses Iâd caught in music videos. Was this really happening? I couldnât peel my eyes away from the sight, his cute little butt bobbing along with the music. It was the most mesmerizing thing Iâd ever seen.
Matthew was dressed in tight PJ bottoms that hugged him in all the right ways, and he had a loose t-shirt which skimmed his lean body. His blond hair flopped around in rhythm with the music. I was stuck to the spot, not wanting to move or make a sound. I could watch this for hours.
But another part of me wanted to walk right in there, grab that ass, hoist him up onto that counter top, and push his knees apart, pulling him against me. My thoughts made me dizzy, and I shuffled as my erection throbbed in my trousers. As I moved, I nudged the door, and it creaked.
Matthew swung around, screeched, and lost his balance, tumbling to the floor.
âShit. Are you alright?â I raced across the kitchen, lifted him up, and held onto him firmly. âAre you okay?â
I studied his face, the smooth outline of his striking features, the aquiline nose, and the hint of those dimples that Iâd sell my soul for. Matthew reminded me of the most glorious statue, carved in alabaster and made to be worshipped.
âGod, how long have you been standing there?â
âLong enough to enjoy your kitchen twerking.â I grinned at his cute face and berated myself for questioning whether we could make this work. I wanted to, and that was enough.
âIâm so embarrassed,â he groaned.
âDonât be. It was highly entertaining. Come on, sit down, and Iâll finish this up for you.â I helped him to the seat and went back and buttered his toast for him. âYou shouldnât be walking around doing things yet,â I scolded, suddenly feeling guilty that I wasnât there to help him, and that he could have been hurt again when he slipped.
âWell, you werenât here when I woke, and I was hungry. Anyway, the doctors said I needed to move. The quicker Iâm on my feet, the faster Iâll heal.â
I knew he was right, but I still should have been there. âI had to leave to run errands and stuff. I grabbed some fresh scones and pastries from the bakery for you.â I nodded towards the brown bag that Iâd tossed on the counter as Iâd ran to help him up.
âOh, thanks. Thatâs nice of you.â He took a bite of his toast and then smiled. âSorry about that. You know, the dancing.â
âWas that what it was?â I teased, and my insides melted as those sexy dimples reappeared on Matthewâs cheeks.
âExcuse me, Iâm a great dancer. What are you insinuating? Or is it that, back in your day, everyone was waltzing?â
I feigned shock. âBack in my day? How old do you think I am? Careful now, Matthew, or Iâll have to teach you a thing or two.â I was joking, trying to regain the fun, light mood weâd had before.
âI wish you would.â
That statement was enough to undo me. âWhat?â
Matthewâs eyes were piercing in the morning sunlight. He was so young, so beautiful. He looked angelic as the soft light filtered in, and yet, there was this twinkle of mischief that made my heart pound in my chest. And of course, his comment...
What was I supposed to do with that?
âI think Iâll try to get some emails answered,â I said, standing up and reaching for my laptop on the counter. I needed a minute to compose myself. âWhat are you planning to do today?â
He chewed on another bite of toast, and I could tell he was hesitating.
âYou need help with something?â I asked, and he blushed.
âEh, sort of. I wanted to take a shower and change my clothes. But I, uh, might need some help getting in and out of the shower.â
I remained as normal as I could, pretending that the idea of assisting Matthew in the shower wasnât threatening to cause me to keel over. âThatâs no problem. Iâll give you a hand. Iâve seen it all before. No need to be embarrassed.â
His eyebrows rose. âYou sure? Thanks.â
âFinish up your food, and when youâre ready, let me know, and Iâll get you sorted.â
He nodded and continued eating his buttery toast while I clicked on my emails, completely unable to focus on anything on the screen.