***
"Hey, pretty girl." He turned toward me as I opened the door and got into the car.
"Hey. The traffic bad on the way over here?" I buckled up and stiffened a little as he leaned over and pulled me into a warm kiss. It only took a second of being pressed against him to loosen me up. How lame were my standards?
"Not bad at all. I'd drive anywhere to get to you though." He wagged his eyebrows before moving back into his seat. "So tell me about this gallery. I haven't heard much about it."
"It's locally owned, like a lot of the galleries around here. The artist actually lives in Paris, but his sister runs the gallery here for him. His pieces are abstract, complex, hard to decipher."
"Hmmm... sounds like my kind of guy."
"Very true." I clasped my hands in my lap and sunk back against my seat. "I'm so glad this week is over."
"I bet." He reached over and wrapped his hand around mine. "I'm looking forward to the weekend."
"Me too. It'll be nice to get out of here for a while."
"Who's watching Zek?"
"Lanie said she would do it."
"That's great, and are you planning on staying at my place tomorrow night or you want me to get us a hotel?"
"I think it might be best if you stay at your place and I get my own hotel. I'm on a business trip, and even though Kent is your father, I don't want him thinking less of me." I shrugged. "I mean, maybe it's a good thing that he doesn't know that we're working through our feelings together. It's not very professional of me to-"
"You're upset." He pulled his hand back into his lap. "I knew it. I knew the minute you hung up on me earlier that you were upset about me not mentioning us to my father."
"No, it's fine." I glanced over at him as the tightness in my chest got worse. "I get it. Honestly."
"It's not fine, but I don't want to drag my family in the middle of this until you and I settle on whether we're together or we're not. My dad already thinks I’m a flake. This will only make it worse. You mean a lot to him at the company and he’s on edge that I’m going to mess that up."
"And who's making that call?" I moved my arms up to wrap them around my chest, as if I could protect myself from the oncoming fight.
"We both are, Erica." He pulled onto the freeway. "Let's just have fun tonight. Can we? I know you’re tired of thinking about everything that happened. Let’s forget about it for one night and just enjoy each other’s company. I love being with you."
"Yeah, okay. You’re right." I let out a long exhale through my nose and reached up to turn on the radio. We could have fun together and not think about the consequences, but he would be ten shades of pissed when the night ended with a quick hug at my door and him headed home to jerk off alone. I wasn't making another move until I understood where we stood together. My heart couldn’t handle it.
"Cool." He let out a sigh and turned toward the art district. "You're gonna love how the portrait of you turned out. I'm a little tense about sharing it with anyone besides you."
"Oh yeah? Why?" I glanced over toward him as sadness filled my chest. We weren't going to move past our immaturities and ever become anything solid with the way we were headed. He wanted to pretend that we were together until it got too real, too uncomfortable, and then he would back off, leaving me standing there, holding the empty bag that I believed to be our future.
"Because, baby... You're insanely hot. That picture is going to give every man in the room a woody." He snorted. "I'm just not sure I want all that competition."
I let the conversation die, because the way my mood was souring, he wouldn't have wanted to hear my response to it.
"This it right here?" He pointed to the art gallery ahead of us.
"Yeah. That's it. The woman who runs it is a little odd, but you'll appreciate why. She lives alone with ten cats and a million abstract paintings." I smiled and unbuckled as he parked the car.
"Hey." He turned and reached out, grabbing my hand. "You okay? I feel a shift in our evening. I just want to make sure that you know that I plan on talking to my father about us."
There was no 'us’, but I was getting blue in the face from saying it.
"I'm good." I reached for the door and got out, feeling for the first time since meeting Matt that maybe we weren't evenly matched. He was brilliant and funny, and fucked like a wild man, but there was more to life than a few chuckles and a hot romp in the sheets. Where would he be when I needed him most?
How would he present me to other people? Like my father, who would flaunt me around as the best thing since sliced bread, or like my mother, someone to be brought in the limelight when it best served her or silenced when it didn't?
I was sure a couple of weeks ago, but now... not so much.
"You staying the night with me?" Matt touched my lower back as we walked to the door.
"No. I need to wash clothes and pack tonight. Maybe when we get back." I reached for the door and walked in, not giving him a chance to respond.
As much as I wanted to forget the fear of loss, I just couldn’t. There were no guarantees in life, but I needed more than he’d given so far. Maybe then I could step back into the unknown with him and really give ‘us’ a try.