“Yeah, for showing up on time for his gigs, paying for his fuckin’ drinks, and bringing me business with his band. Christ, the guy even keeps his bandmates in line, but I sure as hell wasn’t saying he’s a good guy for my sister’s best friend.” Matt ran his hand through his hair, took a ragged breath, and walked over and crouched down in front of me. “Emily.” He sighed. “I know after your dad . . .” He took my hands, and his thumbs rubbed back and forth on the back of them. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent, and sometimes when you miss them you end up looking for a replacement of sorts. Someone to ease that missing link. Sculpt isn’t that guy. Has he told you anything about his past?”
I shook my head.
“That’s because not a single person knows anything about it. He is closed off, and that means he’s dangerous.”
“He’s friends with Georgie, and he knows Deck and—”
“And he’s been playing at my bar for months, and no one knows his real name. Not even his bandmates. I don’t like it, Emily.”
Ever since grade school when Kat and I had started hanging out, Matt had been there for the both of us. I’d snuck in Kat’s bedroom window numerous times after running away from my mom’s when she brought a new boyfriend home. Matt never kicked me out, never told me to go home, nor did he call my mom. Instead, he bought me a cell phone, programmed his number in it, and told me if I ever needed to leave home that I was to call him, and he’d come get me.
I loved him and Kat; they were my family, but I saw in Sculpt something Matt couldn’t. I saw the truth in his words. The meaning in his touch and the sweetness in his kiss. There was something more to him than he let everyone see. A vulnerability beneath his confidence.
“Matt,” Emily said. “I get why you’re worried but—”
“Oh I’m more than worried, Emily.” He stood and walked toward the kitchen where he opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, and popped the cap. “You’re not dating him.”
I stood, hands on my hips. “Matt.”
“No. You live under my roof, you’re following my rules.”
Kat gasped jumping to her feet beside me. “Matt. No.”
Anger pulsated, and I strode over to him but stopped just out of reach, afraid of getting too close and slapping him. “I pay rent. You have no say over who I date. And I’m dating Sculpt.”
Matt slammed his beer down on the counter, and it foamed up over the sides. His face was beet red as he glared at me. But I wouldn’t on this. “No, you’re not. Jesus, Emily, he’s a fuckin’ illegal fighter. I already dragged Kat out of that underground shit and you . . . you took off on his fuckin’ motorcycle.” Oh. I guess he saw us leave. He hadn’t mentioned it, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask. “Yeah, I saw you. I spoke to Kite who told me you didn’t want to be there and just needed a ride home. Sculpt provided.” Thank you, Kite. “I let it go, because he brought you straight home, and you weren’t hurt.”
“God, Matt we’re not kids anymore.” Kat came up beside him and placed her hand on his arm.
His gaze turned to her, and his brows rose. “You wanna go there, Kat? Beets not enough?” She scrunched up her nose and made a face as soon as he turned back to me. “End it, Emily. Now.” He picked up his beer and strode from the kitchen. I could hear his feet pounding up the stairs to his room.
I jumped when the door slammed.
Kat put her arms around me, and I slunk into her embrace. “Don’t worry. He’s just shocked, that’s all. Give him time. He’s never seen you date before, and Sculpt is . . . well Matt is just worried. Give him a few days, he’ll settle.”
I didn’t think so, and I was guessing Kat was just trying to make me feel better. Since I’d moved in with them on my eighteenth birthday two years ago, this had been the first fight Matt and I had, and I really didn’t like pissing him off. Matt was very protective. That’s why Kat and I had never told him about my attack a couple months ago. Well, Kat had wanted to, but I insisted otherwise. I knew how responsible he felt toward both of us, and it would have only hurt him to know that he hadn’t protected me. Even though he wasn’t to blame—at all. Matt was the type of guy who took all the responsibility onto his shoulders. Guess that happens when you’re so young and need to suddenly grow up and become a parent to your ten-year-old sister.
Kat went to the fridge, pulled out two beers, and cracked off the caps. “So, you going to tell me what’s up with you and Mr. Fuckable?” Kat passed one to me, and we tipped the necks, clanking them together. “’Cause last I heard, he was slamming you onto your back in some old barn.”
I took a swig of my beer and smiled. Then I told her.
Chapter 4
I fell harder each day we spent together. Harder than I wanted or maybe should have, but Sculpt was protective and sweet in his own way. And cocky and demanding. He liked to call it self-assured and challenging.
I’d discovered Sculpt’s passion stretched beyond vanilla ice cream to motorcycles. There wasn’t once when we passed an ice cream parlor that we didn’t stop for a scoop, and when he saw a parked motorcycle he liked the look of, we stopped and he admired. It was cute. I liked it—a lot.
He picked me up every morning to take me to the coffee shop. I disputed that the TTC and I were old friends, and it wasn’t a big deal taking public transit if it was too late at night to walk. He said no. Of course I said, “Don’t be silly,” and he raised his brows and gave me that don’t argue with me look. I glared. Then he kissed me and had been picking me up ever since.