Page 25 of Breaking Matt
"Yes," he answered while he watched me. He drained his coffee before he set it down on the table.
"I can't," I said, shaking my head. I couldn't be close to him and be affectionate when I felt the way I did. It hurt so much now that it would be unbearable.
I couldn't even look at him anymore so I spun around and left the kitchen, needing space, but his footsteps behind me told me he wasn't going to give me the space I needed to wrap my mind around what he was asking. I turned to face him. Trying to hold on to what little control I still had left, I dug my nails into the palms of my hands.
"I won't," I reinforced.
"You have to," he said with a steeliness in his voice that left no room for negotiation. This side of him was so different. It was my first glimpse at the person who had the control and discipline to be a bodyguard.
I shook my head. There had to be another way. Racking through my muddled thoughts I tried to come up with a reason why it wouldn't work, but the only argument I had was that it would be difficult because of my unwanted feelings. I couldn't let him know I still cared about him.
"This threat is real. Your life is in grave danger," he said, trying to use fear against me, but I wasn't going to allow it. Six months after my father had been promoted to district attorney, he'd started receiving threats. At first it had only been toward him, but later the threats had started to include my mother and me. None of those threats had ever materialized.
I had made it clear when I had started college that I refused to have a bodyguard. The fact that my father had gone behind my back and hired Matthew to protect me told me the threat wasn't to be dismissed like they had been before. There was no use fighting my father on it—he would do as he wanted. He would hold paying for college over my head. My father was ruthless at getting what he wanted. And I would be stupid to put my life in danger if there was someone out there determined to harm me. I swallowed the fear that rose up in me.
"No," I said stubbornly, with no logic behind my words. I was making decisions purely based on the pain I was feeling.
"Unfortunately you don't have a say in it," he shot back. I glared at him, knowing he was right.
I wasn't one who allowed myself to get bullied into something, but I knew he had the backing of my father, and my father could make my life very difficult if I refused.
"No one is going to believe it," I said with new determination. I lifted my chin and glared at him defiantly.
"And why not?" he asked, looking at me with mild curiosity.
"Because there isn't any chemistry between us anymore," I informed him, feeling smug that I'd thought of this. "No one will be fooled."
He looked at me with challenging eyes.
"No chemistry?" he questioned softly as he took a step closer. I refused to back down and I nodded, determined to prove him wrong.
He reached for me and before I could react he had pressed his lips to mine. I pushed against him but as his tongue swept into my mouth I found that I was unable to stop myself from responding. My mind was screaming at me to stop and pull away, but my body refused to obey. I held on to his shirt, pulling him closer as I groaned against his lips and deepened the kiss.
Then he pulled away and looked down at me.
"No chemistry?" he questioned with a knowing smile—daring me to lie.
It had been a lie and he'd proved it. I was left breathless and even angrier with myself for my reaction to his kiss. He knew I still wanted him and no amount of words could change the truth revealed by my actions only seconds ago.
Iwas still fuming. I refused to look at him as he drove us to the college; instead, I kept my eyes on the scenery out of my window.
How was I going to pretend he was still my boyfriend when all I wanted was to throttle him? I pressed my lips together as I fought the urge to refuse to allow him to tell me what to do. A voice in my mind reminded me that he was just doing his job, but kissing me hadn't been necessary.
I was also mad with myself. The moment his lips had touched mine all my self-control had evaporated into thin air and I had been putty in his hands. What made me feel disgusted with myself was the fact that if he hadn't pulled away I wouldn't have stopped him from taking me. I hated myself for being weak. It didn't matter what I said—my actions spoke louder than my words.
I snuck a sideways glance at him but his concentration was on the road ahead of us. Now and then he would look in the mirror to check if we were being followed. It was something I'd never noticed before; but now that I thought about it he was always quieter when driving. It was like he'd always been so preoccupied that we didn't really talk while he drove. Was he more careful because the stalker who had been after Taylor had caused an accident to get her? I tried to remember back to what I'd read. Matthew had been injured in the accident and had been knocked unconscious. He'd been unable to stop the crazy guy from kidnapping Taylor.
For a moment my curiosity got the better of me and I turned to face him. He gave me a quick glance before concentrating back on the road.
"Is that why you're always so quiet in the car?" I asked.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the road.
"Taylor and the accident," I answered, and I watched as his lips thinned and his hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly.
He took a while before he answered. "What do you know about it?" he asked.
"Everything I read in the article," I said. "It said something about her going missing and the only other person who was found at the scene was you, her security."
