Page 48 of Honeybees and Sexy Tees
At that moment I was sure I would love this man unequivocally for the rest of my life, mostly for traits he didn’t see in himself. It was enough that I saw them.
“I promise you, Mattie,” I whispered into the silent night, “we will find a way through this together.”
His arms tightened around me in response, and that alone helped me drop off to sleep.
CHAPTER 12
I rolled over slowly, my sleep-drunk mind realizing heavy arms were no longer holding me down. Overnight, the rain had come in, slashing and beating against the windows as we huddled together in bed; Mathias sleeping comfortably, both arms grasping me like, well, a lifeline. I was anything but comfortable. I was a jumbled mess of emotions.
I struggled to sort through them every time a rumble of thunder would rouse me from sleep, but I didn’t come to any solid conclusions. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but at the same time, the way he spoke, the way he acted, and the way he held me were all new and exciting. It was also scary. I would always be his friend and his assistant. I would always be there for him when he needed comfort and grace, but that wasn’t what this felt like.
Last night felt like he needed me just to breathe.
That he neededme,not justanyone.
It was almost like that connection between us hit him in a completely different way, and suddenly it all made sense to him. He could feel the connection of our minds and hearts. He’d never had to go without the sense of peace, calm, and happiness I brought him before. Faced with those hours of uncertainty, he became certain.
“Hey there, sleepyhead.”
My eyes opened at his voice and focused on his clean-shaven face and purple-T-shirt-clad body. “Morning,” I whispered. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost eight.” He handed me a cup of coffee once I’d sat up. My tank had slipped down, and his eyes closed on a moan, the cup he held tremoring slightly. I tugged up the shirt, took the mug, and drank from it with the hunger of a caffeine-deprived woman.
“Thanks,” I sighed after I’d finished half the mug. “You always know how I like my coffee.”
“I figured after worrying you for hours yesterday that I better come bearing coffee. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. The better question is, how are you?”
He settled a wooden breakfast tray between us filled with toast, jam, fruit, eggs, bacon, and more coffee. I noticed a cup next to the plate with several small pills in it. I picked it up and tipped it toward him.
“You thought of everything.”
I swallowed them down with coffee while he climbed back onto the bed. I had never seen him have so little confidence in himself before. Worry filled me when I noticed that his eyes were still dull and scared. “Sometimes,” he agreed. “Sometimes I’m a bonehead. It’s a guy thing.”
I laughed and shook my head at him as I grabbed a piece of bacon and took a bite. I would have to try and lighten the mood if we were going to get any work done today. He lounged against the headboard, and I hated how sexy he looked dressed in nothing but jeans and a T-shirt. He was barefoot, but his hair was perfectly coiffed, which meant he was trying to put his defenses back in place. Part of me was proud that I was able to help him through last night with grace, and part of me hoped he didn’t forget the feeling of connection that we’d shared because of it.
I glanced around the room but bit back the sigh that wanted to escape my lips. We’d done this before, sharing breakfast sitting on a hotel bed, but this was far more intimate than a hotel. We were in his bed, in my house, after spending a night spooned together. Granted, he had been vulnerable and only seeking the comfort of a friend, but telling my stupid heart to shut up and stop pounding was taking a lot of extra effort on this dark, rainy, and oddly intimate morning.
I waited for him to say something, anything, but after I finished the toast and washed it down with orange juice, he was still quiet. All his concentration was focused on me, and I was trying not to feel naked and exposed under the scrutiny. A clap of thunder rumbled the house, and I jumped, more from the charged feelings in the room than the thunder. I already knew the storm in this room was far more dangerous than the one outside.
I waited for the rumbling to quiet before I spoke. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Moving the food tray to the floor, Mathias slid down the bed to rest his head on the pillow. Once we were nose to nose, he held my neck in a protective yet tender grasp. “I can’t answer it truthfully. I don’t know how I’m feeling. I can say that it feels like every aspect of my life has been thrown into a blender and mixed until I can’t sort out the separate entities anymore.”
“I’m not sure I understand, but if you do, then that’s what matters.” Selfishly, I ran my finger down his cheek. Maybe it was wrong of me to take advantage of the intimacy we shared at the moment, but when you’d loved someone the way I had loved him for so many years, it was impossible to hold back.
He laughed and this time the sound was genuinely amused. “Honeybee, I don’t understand it either, which is why I say I feel like a blender. Everything is so chopped up.” He stroked the scar on my arm, raising goose bumps across my skin. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Honey. I’m so sorry for every insensitive, immoral, flippant thing I’ve ever said or done to you. For years I’ve used you as my verbal punching bag, my fallback when I didn’t want to be alone, and often—without you even knowing—my excuse.”
“Excuse?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
He nodded, biting his lip for a moment as he stared into my eyes. “My excuse for why work didn’t get done. Work that wasn’t your responsibility. My excuse for why I couldn’t go to dinner with someone or why I backed out of a deal. Over the years, I used you in ways that if you had known, you’d probably never forgive me.”
I pushed myself back a hair, just enough to give me breathing room while we talked. “I think that’s part of the best friend creed. We get to use each other as an excuse when we need an out.”
He shook his head and slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, tugging me closer again. “I don’t think so, and the reason is, I didn’t feel right when I was doing it. It felt bad and wrong, you know? Like I was betraying you.”
“But you did it anyway,” I finished, my mind working on sorting out and keeping up with his ramblings.
