Page 74 of Point Proven
He inhaled, slowly loosening his hold on me as he pushed himself away from the counter. Scratching the back of his neck as he came to stand, he cleared his throat, but I didn’t miss the light blush on his cheeks.
“I’ll… go shower.”
“Okay. I’ll heat the spaghetti, baby.”
Was it okay to call him that?
His reply came as what I assumed was second nature as he headed down the hall. “Okay, dove.”
Smiling for the first time in days, I turned around, opening the fridge to pull the container out. Slapping spaghetti into a bowl, I finally loosened a breath. He was home. He was everything, and I would prove it to him one step at a time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MATTHEW
Standing in front of the mirror, I slicked back my wet hair, water dripping onto my fresh shirt. My phone sat on the edge of the counter, a smile plastered across my lips. “Okay, thanks for the update, Thorne. Glad you two worked it out.”
“Thanks for letting me crash there. I appreciate you.” He paused briefly, taking a bite of whatever Oren had made for him. “Now maybe do something for you, yeah? Like call Levander?”
Rolling my eyes, I snatched up my device, cracking the door open as I stepped out. “Anytime. You’re more than welcome here, because you’re family. And… should I? I mean, I?—”
“Christ, Matt. You’ve never been so… speechless around another man before.” His chuckle followed, an audible laugh from Oren echoing in the background. “Where’s your confidence? Your balls?”
“Oh, shut up! Fine. I’ll give him a call right now.”
“Yeah? Or are you going to text him because you’re too paranoid you’ll say the wrong thing?”
Biting my lip, I searched through my contacts to pull up his information. “I don’t like you at times. I’m hanging up now tocall, okay?”
“Best friend. I’m your best friend. Iknowyou. I live in your fucking walls, Matthew.”
“You…Goodbye.”
With his resounding chuckle flooding the line, I ended the call. Staring at my phone, my finger hovered over his icon. Fuck. Just press the damn thing, or youreallydon’t have balls. Just?—
My finger spasmed, knocking into the phone icon, and a resounding squeal tumbled from me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I was about to hang up when the ringing died, that familiar, sultry voice flooding through that immediately sent an ache to my cock.
“Matthew Harveil.”
“Y-Yes. I am him—I mean…” Slapping my palm against my face, I blew out a shaky breath. “Are you free? Right now?”
Oh, dear fuck.
“Free?” he crooned, but I could decipher that fucking smile. “As in… you want me to come over?”
Digging my nails into my dresser, I bounced on my heels. Not a pussy. I have balls. Ihavethem…. “Yes.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Without giving me a chance to reply, he hung up. Staring at the blank screen, I realized I hadtenminutes to prepare. Ten minutes to make my small ass apartment presentable.
Floating around the space, I tossed discarded clothes into the laundry room, dishes into the washer, and sprayed some type of scented Lysol to disinfect the place after drowning Thorne’s sorrows in beer and pizza. Trash was next as I slammed everything into the bag, shoving it down to make room for the extra shit on the counter.
God, how long had I been cleaning for?
