Chapter Thirteen
Teague
“This is officially the best wedding I have ever been to,” Harper says, biting into her second piece of chocolate cake with raspberry filling and white buttercream frosting.
“Are you allowed to say that when you crash the wedding?” I ask. We’re sitting in the lobby of the swanky hotel venue, my duties officially over for the night. Before Gabrielle flew to Paris, she made sure I understood I was at Mindy and Leah’s disposal while she was gone. I love working with them, so this isn’t a hardship like I think she’d hoped it would be. In fact, helping to create one-of-a-kind dream weddings is turning out to be more rewarding than I’d anticipated.
“I made this wedding.” Harper points her fork at me. “Mr. Andersen said so.”
My best friend swore no one would notice her. Which is like saying no one would notice a pink elephant on the dance floor, so I should have known better. Five minutes after she sneaked into the reception, and the second after the bride and groom had finished their first dance, Grandfather Andersen had set his sights on “the girl in the blue dress.” To Harp’s credit, she had the older man laughing, dancing, and acting nicer than he had in years. That’s what his daughter-in-law said, anyway, and the reason she played along and told guests Harper was a second cousin once removed, or something like that.
“Did I tell you he wants to take me to Hawaii?” She licks the tines on her fork.
“No! You didn’t tell me that.”
“He’s lonely. He misses his wife and said my spirit reminded him of hers.”
I put my cake plate down on the table beside the fancy couch we’re sitting on. “That’s sweet, but also kind of creepy. He doesn’t mean that literally, does he?”
“I think he does.”
We look at each other, visibly shiver, and then crack up. There was this one time in college when we swore the ghost of Harper’s grandmother paid us a visit, but then we realized we were drunk and seeing our roommate in her bathrobe. Needless to say, our roommate was not very happy with us. (She did get rid of the old-lady robe, though.)
“I’m glad you decided to crash this party,” I say.
“What else was I going to do? Use your Hollywood Bowl ticket?” She puts her plate down and rubs the pad of her thumb over the corner of her mouth.
“You could have.” The truth is even if I hadn’t had to work tonight, I’d texted Brendan that I couldn’t meet him. He’s nice, but my mind is on someone else, and it wouldn’t be fair to Brendan to pretend otherwise.
“He wears a suit,” Harp says, the duh loud and clear in the tone of her voice. She’s generally attracted to jeans-and-T-shirt guys. “Not that I wasn’t tempted, because damn those brown eyes of his were sexy.”
“I don’t think he would have worn a suit to the concert.”
“You’re probably right, but thankfully I chose wedding crashing so I could make Mr. Andersen’s day.”
I lay my head on her shoulder and close my eyes. “You made mine, too. Let’s just hope Mindy and Leah don’t tell Gabrielle you were here.”
“So what if they do? The party went off without a hitch—that’s all she should care about.” Harper’s phone buzzes with an incoming text. I feel her slip it out of her small handbag. “It’s Elliot,” she says.
I open my eyes and straighten. “Mateo’s roommate, Elliot?”
“Yeah. He says they’re having a few people over and he wants to know if I’d like to join.” She taps something back.
“What did you tell him?”
“I’m down.”
“Wait. I thought you weren’t interested in him.”
“I’m not going for me, silly.” She briefly meets my eyes. “Is it cool if I bring Teague?” she says while typing.
“Hold on!” I try to swipe the phone from her, but she’s too fast.
“Send.” She looks up and smiles at me.
A response immediately sounds. “‘Hells yeah,’ he says with an exclamation point. So, you ready to go?” She gets to her strappy stiletto feet. Only in heels does she stand taller than me.
I walk beside her toward the hotel’s entrance. “Maybe you should drop me off at home. It’s been a long day and my feet are killing me.” Both true, but the biggest truth is I’m worried about seeing Mateo.
“If that’s really what you want, okay.”
We step outside into the lukewarm night air. May has been a really hot month so far, and it’s still nice out. I lift my hair off my neck as Harper hands over her valet ticket. “How long do you think you’ll stay?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She wraps an arm around me. “How long would you like to?”
“Harp.”
“Look, Mateo has probably guessed you didn’t go out with Brendan now, so come with me. We’ll leave whenever you want. Besides, I have no idea where they live and you do.”
“Okay, fine.” I know. That was really difficult. “Should we stop and change first?”
“Hell no. You look fucking hot in that LBD.”
The valet pulls Harper’s car around, and we climb in. Luckily, I remember how to get to places I’ve been, so I give her directions as we drive.
To Mateo’s house.
I can honestly say I never pictured being back there, but now that we’re on our way, my brain runs through a dozen different scenarios of how this will work. Will he greet me with a drink? Be too busy with some other girl to notice I’m there? Will our eyes meet across the room and everyone and everything will vanish but the two of us?
Sometimes when he looks at me, it really is like that, and I think he feels it, too. I’m not stupid, though. I know he wants in my pants. But he’s also shown he wants to know me. That he cares about me. Which makes whatever we’re doing even more confusing.
“Okay, Miss Thinksalot, quit deliberating over there. You are not going to marry this guy. You are not going to date this guy. You’re going to have some fun with this guy and that is all.”
“But what if I want—”
“Pfftt!” She presses her thumb to her fingers in the shut-it gesture she likes to use when I protest too much. And I think spit actually came out of her mouth with the irrefutable sound.
“Harp, you know I can’t—”
“You can. You just have to allow yourself. There’s nothing wrong with two adults who are attracted to each other acting on those feelings. Make out with him. Let him get to third base. Then say ‘that was fun’ and move on.”
“That’s just it. I have real feelings for him.” I’m a happily-ever-after kind of girl. Period. Watching the wedding tonight, planning with other brides, hearing the deep-down joy in my sister Erin’s voice when we talk about her fiancé, Troy, all remind me I want to fall in love and get married. Sooner rather than later.
“I know you do, sweetie, but maybe you can ignore them this time and focus on the sexual ones.”
Can I do that? Let my body rule over my mind—and heart—for just this once? It kind of already has, considering all Mateo has to do is look at me a certain way and I feel warm everywhere. A tingly shudder runs through me at the thought. No other guy has done that to me before.
We get to Mateo’s and park around the block from his house, since parking on his street is by permit only. This area is on the border of Hollywood, so there’s a lot more energy and busy-ness here than on the quiet residential streets of Beverly Hills.
Rather than knock on his front door or ring the doorbell, Harper walks right in. “Hello!” she calls out.
“Back here!” someone yells.
“Back here” is outside through the open sliding French door that’s straight ahead of us on the other side of the family room.
“Or here!” someone else calls from our right. I recognize his voice so head that way while Harp heads the other. I step through a large oval doorway to find a nice-size kitchen. Standing at the stainless steel fridge and pulling a couple of beers out is Mateo. He’s wearing jeans that hang low on his narrow hips and a thin heather-gray T-shirt. His feet are bare. The casual look is ridiculously hot.
“Hi,” I say.
He turns and takes one look at me, and one of the beers slips through his fingers. The can hits the hardwood floor and rolls toward my feet.
“Thanks,” I say with a chuckle, and bend over to pick it up. “But isn’t this for someone else?”
His eyes are on my chest when I straighten. A swallow works its way down the smooth tanned skin of his throat. I glance down and am reminded my dress has a low neckline and I probably just flashed him a nice view of my cleavage.
“He can get his own beer. Fuck, Knox, you trying to kill me?” His gaze travels over my body like he’s never seen a girl in a little black dress before. “Please tell me you didn’t go out with The Suit dressed like that.”
“I didn’t go out with The Suit.”
“No Hollywood Bowl?”
I shake my head. “Andersen wedding.”
“You look…” He stands right in front of me now, having sneaked closer without my noticing. “Unbelievably hot.”
“Thank you.” Up close, Mateo is all the things, and my body’s reaction to his nearness is, I’m sure, similar to a volcano about to erupt. I need to down this beer to calm my crazy nerves. I start to lift the tab.
“Wait.” Mateo covers my hand with his. His touch makes my nerves go even more haywire. I hate this reaction I have to him, but I also never want it to end. It feels good everywhere. “Take this one.” He exchanges my beer for the one in his hand. “Yours could explode when you open it.”
Oh my God. He can sort of read my mind.
I feel like I might explode. The way he’s still looking at me, stealing glances at my chest, then my mouth, is super arousing. I want to rub up against him until I relieve the pressure building inside me.
“Bro, how long does it take— Well, hello there, beautiful.”
Mateo turns. The guy walking in from the backyard looks like Zac Efron, and I do a double take. It’s not him, is it? I’ll die if it is.
The guy extends his hand. “I’m Sullivan, and you are?”
“Teague.” We shake hands, and he holds on a little longer than etiquette dictates.
“She’s with me, Van, so turn your ass around and go back where you came from. Here.” Mateo hands him the beer that fell to the floor, then winks at me. Mateo’s jokey but possessive tone leaves no room for argument.
“Huh.” Sullivan looks from Mateo to me. “Got it, Captain. See you guys out back. Nice meeting you, Teague.”
“You, too,” I say.
Sullivan flips the tab on his beer as he turns, and beer sprays out, catching him by surprise. “What the hell?” He hurries to the sink to deal with the can.
Mateo laughs.
“Payback’s a bitch,” Sullivan says. He doesn’t sound mad. More like prepared to continue something that probably started a long time ago.
Mateo takes my hand. “Come on.” He leads me out of the kitchen and toward the hallway.
“Captain, huh?”
“Van and I played soccer together, and I was captain of the team.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Mateo seems like a natural leader. “Where are we going?”
“My bedroom.”
I dig in my heels to slow our progress. I need time to process this.
He looks over his shoulder. “Relax, gorgeous. I’m not taking you there to strip that dress off you.” His eyes dip to my breasts. “Unless you want me to.”
My cheeks are so hot I could melt butter on them. I clear my throat and banish the not-so-fleeting thought that yes, I do want him to get me naked. “And ruin what I’m guessing is the first time a girl’s been to your room for something other than sex? No way.”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it. I assume because he can’t refute my claim.
His bedroom is at the end of the hallway. He opens the door, and we step inside. It’s the master with a bathroom off to one side. His bed is made, if you count haphazardly throwing your comforter over your pillows as made. There are clothes lying on the floor even though a wicker basket that I guess is for laundry is right outside his closet.
His desk is tidy, though, with a laptop, headphones, and an iPad. The walls are slate blue, the furnishings chocolate brown. There’s a wood-trimmed glass door that opens to a side yard.
It’s lived-in and homey. I could stand being stuck in bed for a while here. Not that I’m picturing myself in his bed or anything.
I’m not sure what to do with myself, so I hang out by the door.
“You can come all the way in, Knox. I’m not going to try anything.” Mateo pulls a T-shirt out of his dresser. “In fact, put this on.” He tosses the shirt to me.
I catch it and sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t understand.”
He takes the shirt out of my hands and puts it over my head. He pulls my arms through the openings. I glance down and see “UCLA” written across the front. When I look back up, Mateo is smiling down at me.
“Better,” he says, before sitting next to me. He falls onto his back, his feet on the floor, and stares up at the ceiling. “I can’t have you looking so hot around my friends. They’ll be all over you.”
Oh. Half of me wants to tell him to quit it. I’ve told him I don’t need protecting. But the other half likes that other guys looking at me bothers him. I toe off my shoes before lying back on the bed, too.
“Is that the moon?” It’s a dumb question. I can see the small painting on the ceiling clear as day.
“You’re the first— Never mind. Yeah, it is.”
The reminders of Mateo’s extracurricular activities never feel good, but I tell myself he’s here with me, and all the other things I know about him are very likable. “Does it have some special meaning?”
He rolls his head to the side to look at me. I keep my eyes on the ceiling. “How did you know to ask that?”
“It looks like there’s an eye”—I point to the spot I’m talking about—“near the top there, like the moon is looking down on you as much as you’re looking up at it.” It isn’t a literal eye, but the round, light blue shading makes me think of one.
Mateo turns to his side and props his head in his hand. He’s watching me so intently I have no choice but to gaze back at him. Neither of us speaks, but I’m afraid he can hear the pounding of my heart.
“I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now,” he says, breaking the silence.
Before I can respond, he drops away, giving me his profile.
“When you’re ready to touch my lips, Knox, let me know, and I promise I’ll touch yours back.”
His vow elevates the tension between us. He wants to kiss me. And while I want to kiss him, too, I know one kiss won’t be enough. I know kissing won’t be enough. I close my eyes and visualize being with Mateo. It’s hot and scary-good. I’m not a terrible lay or second-rate. I picture us laughing. Breathing hard. Afterward, I want more.
But Mateo isn’t a more kind of guy.
“When I was in elementary school,” he says, “I wanted to be an astronaut. My best friend Ryan did, too. We both got telescopes for our tenth birthdays and spent an insane amount of time running back and forth to each other’s houses to watch the sky and take notes. We thought for sure we were going to set foot on the moon one day. That was our dream. To walk on the moon or discover a new one.”
Mateo’s voice, the voice that does so much to me, is softer than I’ve ever heard it, and something tells me this story doesn’t end well. I lace my fingers with his atop the comforter.
“Ryan died when we were twelve. She had leukemia. Before she died, she told me not to be sad because she was going to hang out with the stars before me. She said whenever I looked up at the moon that she’d be looking down at me, too.
“The day she passed away, I asked my mom if I could have a moon painted on my ceiling. I didn’t want one night to go by when I didn’t get to see it. She had the painting done the next day. Moving here, I wasn’t quite ready to give it up and had the artist paint the same one in this room.”
I squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry you lost her.” Hearing that Ryan was a girl, I wonder if she would have been more than his best friend when they got older. That he still feels something so deeply says a lot about the relationship.
“You’re the only person who’s noticed the eye.”
“I like to find details in art, and FYI, it’s the best moon I’ve ever seen.” I don’t look at him, but I sense he’s smiling.
Out of the blue, something bangs on a nearby wall. Bangs again. And again. I jolt up. “What is that?”
“Our cue to head to the backyard.” Mateo gets to his feet and offers his hand to help me up. There’s an odd expression on his face.
“Is someone banging on a wall?”
“You could say that.” He picks up my shoes and carries them out of the room.
I follow him, his T-shirt falling to the middle of my thighs, below the hem of my dress. The banging is louder in the hallway. And is that a bed squeaking as we walk by a closed door?
That’s when it hits me. Someone is having sex.
“Oh my God, Levi! Yes!”
Levi apparently.
Mateo speeds up his steps. I try not to giggle too loudly and pull on the back of his shirt to slow him down. “It’s not like I haven’t heard someone having sex before, Mateo.” Not that I’ll tell him about it, because I’m pretty sure that would make me hornier than I already am.
He spins around but continues to walk backward. “Really? This I’ve got to hear. I thought I needed to save your virginal ears, but I guess not.”
“I’m not a virgin. I’ve been with one—” I stop, but it’s too late. Mateo now knows I’ve only been with one guy. I’m grateful his expression remains playful.
“That’s right. Big Dick.”
“Who has a big dick?” a guy says, patting Mateo on the back when we enter the family room.
“I do,” Mateo says proudly. He puts my shoes down beside the couch.
“Since when?” The guy is baiting Mateo. I get the sense they’ve known each other for a long time, too.
“Screw you, Puck,” Mateo teases back.
“You’re pretty, but you’re not my type.” His eyes take me in like I’m exactly his kind of person. “Who is this heavenly creature? And how dare you cover her in Bruin.”
I can’t help but smile. First, all of Mateo’s friends are easy on the eyes. Second, he’s wearing a USC baseball hat, which makes my UCLA shirt all the more fun. And third, he called me “heavenly.” “Hi, I’m Teague.”
“My friends call me Puck, and I definitely want to be your friend. Nice to meet you, Teague.”
Mateo edges Puck out of the way. He mumbles something that sounds like “why did I think this was a good idea?” and takes my hand. “Teague’s a Bruin all the way, my friend.”
Puck twists and walks with us into the backyard. The space is bigger than I expected and well-kept with a stone patio, outdoor fireplace, and grassy area. Trees and ivy-covered fencing give the yard privacy. “Have you tried an SC man, Teague? Because I’m positive I could change your mind.”
“I haven’t,” I say, ignoring his blatant flirting. “Why mess with the best?”
That earns me dimples that really are incomparable. I can’t help but grin back at my UCLA man. We join the small group of people sitting around the fire. Mateo introduces me to the two guys and one girl sitting with Harper, Elliot, and Sullivan, and answers the question of my attire with, “She was cold.”
Sullivan chokes on his beer.
Harper looks at me, puzzled. “Later,” I mouth to her, and because there’s limited seating, I decide to squeeze in next to her on the cushioned chair. Mateo wraps his arm around my waist and sits me down on his lap instead. I wiggle to get comfortable, pressing a little more fully against his jeans.
“If you keep doing that, you’re going to feel more than you bargained for,” he says under his breath.
I freeze. “Sorry,” I whisper.
“So what’s the deal with Levi and Kayla?” Puck asks. “I thought they were broken up for good this time.”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on with them, but I wish she’d sink her claws into someone else,” Elliot says.
“She’s not a nice person?” I ask.
“No,” Mateo says.
“Then why is he…?” I trail off. It’s none of my business.
“Fucking her?” Elliot says. “Good question.”
“You don’t have to like a girl to fuck her,” Puck offers.
“You would know,” Elliot says without judgment.
Mateo tightens his hold on me. It’s a little surreal sitting here with him, listening to his friends talk like I’m part of the group. Having his arms around me and feeling his breath on the back of my neck.
“Bro, you forgot something.” Elliot waves a clear vial filled with weed in the air before putting it down on the patio table.
“I knew I went in the house for something,” Puck says. He jumps to his feet and returns seconds later with a glass bong.
I try to act cool, but my muscles tense. I don’t mind other people smoking. It’s just not my thing. I did it a few times in college, and that was enough for me. Harper and I exchange looks. She raises her eyebrows in question. You want to go? She’ll leave right now if I nod, but I can see she’s enjoying herself, so I turn to Mateo and say, “Did I see a hammock outside the door in your bedroom?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. Uh-oh. What did I just get myself into? We stand and without a word to anyone, he takes me around the patio to the side of the house. The grass is cool underneath my feet. A motion detector lights the private area.
“This is my second-favorite place in the house,” he says. I’m guessing his bedroom is the first.
He climbs onto the two-person hammock first, then extends his hand. There is no graceful way to get on a hammock, especially in a short dress, and I’m worried I may tip us over if I try to be careful, so I just go for it. I lead with my back and jump on. The tightly woven cotton dips and swings as I land on my butt, then quickly lie flat.
Mateo rolls into me. “Nice move,” he says, before righting himself so we’re side by side, our bodies touching from our shoulders down.
We’re quiet while the hammock stops swinging. I practically melt into the soft material. It’s super comfortable. Stars are scattered across the dark sky, and the moon is a small sliver of a smile. I find myself wishing it were full.
“When did you change your mind about being an astronaut?” I ask quietly.
“The day Ryan died.”
I snuggle closer to him, wanting to offer comfort. “I should have guessed that. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. For a long time I didn’t like to talk about her, but it’s easier now. Or maybe it’s that it’s easy with you. Anyway, we were supposed to do the space thing together, and even though she told me not to give up the dream, it didn’t mean anything without her.”
He takes my hand and lifts it so our arms are extended, his fingers laced with mine. “See right there?” he asks, pointing toward the sky. “That’s my favorite star.”
“The really bright one?”
“Yes.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Bright Star,” he says seriously. He’s such a jokester.
“I mean is it part of the Big Dipper or Cassiopeia or is it a planet? Sometimes we can see Venus or Saturn, right?”
He drops our arms and tucks me close, so he’s spooning me. “Knox, you keep tossing out words that make me want to do very bad things to you. You like the stars?”
I hope he doesn’t feel the shiver he just triggered. “I took an astronomy class in college and remember a few things. Plus, I’ve wished on them a lot, so I think of them as…”
“What?”
“You’re going to think I’m an even bigger dork than I already am.”
His mouth is right under my earlobe, his nose is in my hair, and all I can think about is how badly I want him to touch me, to ease the ache growing stronger with every passing minute. “I promise I will only think of you as even more adorkable.”
That makes me smile. I take a slow, deep breath. “I think of them as friends. They can be comforting, you know?”
“I do know.”
The light from the motion detector blinks off, and we’re shrouded in darkness. Mateo’s hand, the one that’s been resting on my stomach, starts to very slowly move lower. My body immediately throbs.
“Have you ever come while on a hammock, Knox?” His voice is low, thick. And so sexy it’s like an aphrodisiac.
I shake my head.
“I want to make you come. I can feel you, and how much you need the release.” His hand inches even lower. “Can I fuck you with my fingers? I need to make you feel good so goddamn bad. Please tell me I can.”
That he can read my body so well and he’s asking for my permission makes me lightheaded. And a little confused. I like being the girl. The one still hanging out with Mateo because we haven’t slept together. Not that this will lead to that.
But his dirty talk sets me on fire, and my body is shouting at me to take him up on his offer. I remember Harper’s instructions to have fun and move on. I’m twenty-two, and if I want to have an orgasm with a friend, I can. Only an idiot would say no.
“Teague,” he whispers, like he’ll die if he doesn’t get to touch me. It’s his voice and sincerity that help make my decision.
“Okay,” I say.