Chapter Forty Six - Bite Me

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sitting right next to my phone the entire evening, just waiting for it to buzz with a text from Matt to invite me over.

Our usual time to train was six once he'd come back from the gym, but his car had never left the driveway. But then, I don't think he'd even looked at it after the crash, so maybe he'd taken Aiden's car.

I made a quick note to ask my parents for the money later to pay Matt for the damage.

It was 6:30 p.m. and there was no word from him, so I decided to finish my homework, but my mind kept going back to what could possibly be taking him so long.

Maybe he's finally using the handcuffs like they're supposed to be used.

I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head to clear those images from my head. But the more I pondered over it, the more real it felt. Like they were actually hooking up in his room in that exact moment. Who cares? I rolled my eyes and shrugged to myself.

I do. Dammit!

Finally, at 7 p.m., my phone buzzed with a text.

Matt: She just left.

Oh, great! Finally.

Rebekah: You skipped gym?

Matt: Yes, but it was worth it.

I wasn't supposed to feel this pang in my chest. Assuming that they were hooking up was very different from knowing that they were actually hooking up.

Rebekah: Gross, Williams.

I kept my phone aside and focused on my homework. There was no way I was going to his house now just to sit in his room like some tool minutes after they'd got it on in there.

My phone buzzed again.

Matt: That's not what I meant.

Rebekah: Then what?

I patiently stared at the three dots as he typed something, but without sending it, he went offline, and I blinked at my phone. What the hell?

Rolling my eyes, I tossed it on the bed, screen down, and flipped the pages of my notebook, annoyed.

After five minutes, a knock on the door made me look up, and before I could say anything, it was swung open, and Matt walked inside, taking me by surprise.

"Hey!" he greeted. The spark in his eyes was hard to not notice.

"Hey." I shut my notebook, trying to keep the scorn out of my voice as I asked, "Had your fun?"

"I did. The best one hour of my life." His eyes were bright as he grabbed my study chair, dragged it next to my bed, turned it backwards, and sat down in it, facing me. I eyed his actions skeptically. He was acting differently.

Was he drunk or just... too happy?

Swallowing, I leaned against the headboard. "You better not be here to tell me about it. I'm least interested in listening."

"You have to."

My lips curled with disgust. "Matt, no."

"You're the reason it happened. I took your advice."

"I don't remember giving you any advice on sex. Hell, that's the last thing I know about."

Amusement flashed in his eyes. "Who said anything about sex? I ended things with her."

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Whatever it was, casual or not, it's over. You were right. Just because she meant nothing to me, it didn't mean I meant nothing to her. She took it really bad."

"How bad? Did she curse at you? Throw things at you?"

"There was definitely some cursing, and I was too focused on tuning it out to dodge the pillow she threw at me, followed by my cologne. Thankfully, I caught it. It's expensive."

"If you ask me, you deserved that." I crossed my arms over my chest. "You had it coming."

"You're supposed to say something like it's okay, Matt. Look at the brighter side. You got rid of that crazy broad."

"But I won't." I smiled sarcastically.

"I know." He mirrored my sardonic smile before folding an arm on the backrest of the chair and placing his chin on it. Then, he let out an exhausted sigh.

Was Matt Williams trying to look cute? Was it working? Yes.

Stifling a smile, I concentrated on the textbook in my hands and picked up my pen to solve questions.

"What are you studying?"

"Math," I replied.

"Yeah, you need to."

"Thanks." I forced another smile, outstretching my legs and crossing my ankles. "Can we not train today? I've got another test coming up, and I barely ever sit down to study, but when I do, I can do it for hours. This seems like one of those rare moments."

"Okay. I'll just head to the gym then. See you tomorrow morning."

"Morning?"

He was almost out of the chair and stopped, a little frown forming on his lips.

"Yeah... morning. I was thinking now that everything is good, I could go back to driving you to school."

Obviously, he didn't care that I had a boyfriend who I should've rather be riding to school with. But the problem was that I didn't care either. I could see Sean at school, and we'd still have just as much of a relationship.

Matt's eyes were expectant, and I found a smile curling at my lips.

"Yeah, about that...drive me in what?"

After a moment of confusion, he deadpanned. "Right. I have to get my car fixed."

I couldn't stop my laugh, which made him narrow his eyes at me.

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll transfer you the money by tomorrow morning. I'll talk to my parents after dinner."

"It's fine," he said dismissively. "I've got this."

"You've got this, or your folks do?"

"I make money, remember?" He raised a brow like I was missing something, and soon, it dawned on me. "Right! YouTube."

"And the gigs."

"No, but still. It's my fault. I'll just talk to my parents. Meanwhile, I'll ask Mack to give us a ride tomorrow."

"That won't be necessary." He was already walking out of my room.

"Oh, okay. Well, bye," I called after him.

After finishing my homework, I went downstairs for a little stroll in the garden and returned to my room with a bag of chips. Once I was back in the comfort of my bed, I decided to call my friends and fill them in.

"Look at that. Somebody looks cheerful after reviving a friendship that she thought had run its course." Meera smirked over FaceTime.

"Tell me about it." Cheryl wiggled her brows.

"Okay, you guys were right," I admitted. "He is important to me, and when we fought, I felt like shit. Sorting things with him feels like I've got this huge weight off my chest. So, thank you, guys. Really."

Meera looked on the verge of happy tears as she puckered her bottom lip and squished her brows dramatically. "Aw, Becks."

"You're welcome. Milkshakes are on you tomorrow." Cheryl blinked innocently.

"Done! I think I hear my parents heading downstairs for dinner. I gotta go. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. Bye!" They hung up, and I jumped out of bed, walking over to my dresser to pull my hair up in a ponytail before heading downstairs.

I waited until after dinner. They must have been too exhausted from work because they were surprisingly calm when I told them I'd accidentally crashed a friend's car.

"You didn't hurt yourself or your friend, did you?" Mom asked.

"Nope. All good."

"Thank God! I'll give you the money. Just apologize to your friend and make sure this doesn't happen again, okay?"

"Oh...kay. Thanks." A smile broke out on my lips.

"Are you sure you're not hurt and don't need a doctor?" Dad raised a brow.

"Yes. Totally. I'm good."

"Okay."

Wow! That was easy.

*****

"Can't sleep?"

The glass of water almost slipped out of Matt's hand as he spun around in alarm. His other fist was balled up and already in the air, ready to throw a punch.

"Becks? What the hell? You were two seconds away from being knocked out cold. How did you even..." he trailed off, throwing a glance behind me at his bathroom door.

"Did you..."

"Yeah. I figured if you could climb up your bathroom window, I could, too. I'm just happy you weren't in there when I did that. Okay... that's weird. I just didn't wanna bother Garrett at midnight."

"Midnight. Exactly." He set the glass on his nightstand with a frown. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just couldn't sleep."

He didn't need to ask me why. He'd already figured it out as a look of guilt flashed in his eyes.

It felt like he'd realized that the moment I'd closed my eyes, I'd seen an eleven year old kid on the verge of dying in the middle of the road because of a large piece of glass impaling his body.

Just thinking about it gave me chills. I had no idea how he got through that. Maybe because it was all a blur to him. Thank God it was.

"Math kept me up," I joked to lighten the mood.

His eyes locked with mine, and I noticed a little gleam lighting up in them, offering solace in the dull and dark room. I couldn't help but behold the sight. Had his face always been so mesmerizing, or was it the soft glow of his bedside lamp?

"I do have an excellent record in that," he said rather cockily. "Hit me up whenever you need me."

"You didn't help me during the test today." I pouted and crossed my arms.

"You didn't ask. I told you. You ask, I help."

"Right," I muttered, smiling softly. "So, what's keeping you up?"

"You."

"Me?" I blinked.

"You're in my room."

I struggled for a moment. "Y-yes, and I'm starting to feel like this was a stupid idea. I should probably leave you alo—"

"No."

The firmness in his tone knocked me speechless for a moment, and I don't know why I pictured myself sitting right there on his bed the entire night without a purpose if he'd just ask me to.

I licked my lips once. "No?"

I'd never been in his room with the lights off and something about him standing there in the soft glow of the moonlight, and his bedside lamp did something to me. I didn't know if he could feel the tension, but it was there. I didn't have a very good sight of his facial features but I could very clearly tell when his intense eyes ran across me for a hot second before he snapped them to the door, clearing his throat softly.

"You hungry?"

I blinked again. "What?"

"I was just about to head downstairs for a midnight snack. Do you want anything?"

"N-no. Not really."

"There's some pepperoni pizza left." He raised a brow.

I thought for a second. "I can feel my appetite coming around."

The corners of his lips lifted into half a smile as he made his way out. I followed him out of impulse. I do that a lot.

"Aren't your parents gonna freak out if they don't find you at home?" he asked over his shoulder.

"They must be sound asleep right now. But I still locked my door from the inside just to be safe."

He stopped in his tracks unexpectedly, and I bumped right into his back. "What the—"

"You climbed out of your window?" His eyes were full of disbelief when he turned around.

"Uh yeah?" I shrugged. "I didn't wanna run into Mrs. Brooke or anyone else."

He was taken over by incredulous silence. And that's when I began asking myself what the hell I was doing at his house in the middle of the night. When did I become so brave? Why the hell did I want to see him so bad?

I'd probably rendered us both speechless as we made it to the kitchen in silence, and he started heating the slices while I leaned against the counter and stared into the dark living room.

"A freaking window..." Matt said under his breath like he was still trying to wrap his head around it as he set the pizza slices in a plate nonchalantly. "Do you not remember what happened to your best friend when she went all Catwoman to sneak out for that party?"

"Well, my thinking capacity lowers at night, so I just went for it."

"Even lower than your day capacity? You must be a freaking zombie right now, Becks."

My jaw dropped at the insult, and I narrowed my eyes as he walked up to me with the plate of pizza slices.

"Bite me, Williams!"

A little smirk curled at his lips, and I found myself pushing back into the counter, my hips driven up against it as he towered over me. "You keep telling me that, Andrews. One more time, and I swear I'll just do it."

"You wouldn't dare," I warned, releasing a breath when he pulled away and following him back to his room. He set the plate on the bed while I kicked away my flip-flops and sat down, crossing my legs. Yes, I'd climbed up to his window in flip-flops. I was really proud of myself.

"Mhm," I mumbled, biting into my slice. "I swear these things taste different at midnight."

Maybe reheating bettered the flavour.

We enjoyed our pizza in silence. Once it was finished, he slid the plate on the nightstand, and I stifled a yawn, finally feeling my eyelids becoming heavy.

"At least one of us is sleepy," he observed.

"Are you on crack?"

He laid down on the bed and folded an arm to prop his head up on his hand. "Pretty sure I've been blinking."

I'd have to be blind not to notice how distracted and washed out he was. Clearly, he was recalling the accident, and I hated the fact that I was the reason for his misery. I stared down at my hands and inhaled. "I brought back some bad memories, didn't I?"

"You didn't," he muttered.

His eyes were distant, and I just wanted to grab his face, make him look me in the eye, and snatch him back to the present. I knew he would be fine eventually. He just needed time after recalling everything, but I refused to see him like that even for a moment.

"You know," I started enthusiastically. "I think I can help you fall asleep."

That caught his attention as he snapped back to the present in an instant and cocked his head impishly.

"And what is it that you're offering to do to make that happen?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Williams." I slapped my hand over his eyes and pushed his head back into the mattress.

"What the—"

"Now keep them shut," I ordered.

"I'm not sure you're supposed to use violence to put someone to sle—" he stopped abruptly. "Are you...stroking my head?"

Deep brown eyes opened and stared up at me.

"What?" I deadpanned. "I'm really good at this. Ask Cheeto. Or Bella. It knocks them right out most of the time."

"They're cats."

"And?"

When I didn't back down, he rolled his eyes with a defeated sigh. "Fine. Guess I'll try anything to get some shut-eye right now." He slid a pillow under his head and shut his eyes. "Go ahead. Work your magic."

I started at his forehead and gently stroked his hair back. I'd always wondered if his hair would feel as amazing as it looked, and I wasn't disappointed. It did. It was like running my fingers through silk. I made a point to ask later if he used a conditioner.

After a few minutes of silence, when there was no movement from him and his breathing had evened, I stopped. Wow! I'm really good at this.

I debated between going back to my house right away or just sitting there a little longer. For some reason, I chose the latter.

My eyes found their way down to his torso, where I knew his tattoo was. Where I knew his tattoo that covered his scar was.

Okay, now don't go back to thinking about it, Becks.

But I did just that. I started seeing that eleven year old boy again.

My hand had no business finding its way to his tattoo, but it did. It lingered above it for a second, me being too afraid to touch and wake him up. But that little conflict was lost when my fingers brushed against his t-shirt for a fleeting moment. I quickly pulled back and scrambled out of his bed to leave.

"Becks."

I froze.

"You're awake," I sputtered in surprise, cheeks heating up.

"Why did you come here really?"

"I..."

When I turned around, he was already sitting up on his bed. He drew in a long breath before raking a hand through his hair. "I didn't think twice before telling you all that like an idiot. It was messed up. I'm sorry I shouldn't—"

"What? Are you crazy? You have no idea what you opening up to me means to me."

It was like I had no filter around him and spoke straight from the heart, which felt good, but I wasn't sure if it was when he was engulfed with a deep, brooding silence.

I crossed my arms awkwardly. "I mean, I don't regret knowing what I know. If anything, I wish it never happened. I wish you never had to go through all that."

"I'm fine now."

"Really? Are you?" My eyes inadvertently fell on his tattoo. I couldn't just omit from my memory that it was hiding such a deep scar.

Then I cringed. Why did I have to sound so doubtful?

His eyes snapped to mine rather sharply, and I sucked in a breath when he stepped out of bed and rounded it to dart towards me.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I know I'm making you regret telling me—"

In one swift move, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the bed carelessly. "Look." He shifted closer. "See for yourself."

I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry, my eyes turning a little brazen for a hot minute before I reminded myself that he was showing me only his tattoo. Channel that vision, Becks. Exhaling softly, I lifted my fingers to his tattoo and grazed it. No one could tell there was a scar hidden beneath it.

"It doesn't hurt?" I asked.

"I think it would be a problem if it did."

"A simple no would do." I lifted my eyes and met his. They were already fixed on me intently. For some deranged reason, I pressed my hand against his body, feeling the heat radiating off him. He took in a sharp breath and grabbed my wrist.

My eyes widened with realization. "I'm sorry." What the hell was I doing?

He didn't release his grip as he watched me take a step back, panicked.

"I wasn't feeling you up, just so you know," I cleared, laughing nervously. "I love your tattoo. Ever since I've seen it, all I can think about is getting one myself. Preferably an 'R' because it would look so cool."

I was rambling, and he was just watching me in silence. It was hard to judge what he was thinking. Maybe he was weirded out by me.

"Don't," he finally said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't get a tattoo." He let go of my hand, and I immediately felt the loss of contact.

"Why not?"

"You could never handle getting it."

"Whoa!" I scoffed. "I could get a tattoo bigger than yours without complaining half as much as you probably did. I bet you almost wussed out before the needle even touched you."

His brow perked. "Sure. Yeah. That's what happened."

"You can't cover this up with sarcasm. I know that's exactly what happened."

"R stands for?" He crossed his arms.

"Rebekah, duh."

"Just when I thought I'd known all kinds of self-obsession." He smirked. Those had been my exact words when I'd seen his tattoo for the first time and had thought M stood for Matt.

I bit down on my lip to stifle a smile. "Bite me, Williams."

All traces of humour left his features as his eyes visibly darkened and fell on my neck. The indecision in them shifted to resolve in the blink of an eye and before I knew it, he'd leapt forward, brought his mouth down to my neck and actually bit me like I was some candy bar. I only realized what he was doing when I felt his lips on my bare skin, which was followed by his teeth. He hadn't hurt me, but he'd surely left me stunned.

My lips parted in surprise.

When he pulled back, I could only blink at him, lost.

"You just bit me," I whispered, barely able to find my voice.

"I told you, tell me one more time and I will." And he didn't even look sorry. Instead, he challenged me like he'd do it again.

"What the hell do you think I am? Some snack bar?" I demanded with wide eyes, saying in almost a whisper, "Oh, you are so dead!"

After that, I was a mad fighter. I had every intention of tackling him and giving him a taste of his own medicine; his firm grip on my shoulders being the only thing holding me back.

"Becks, I was gentle. You're flashing your teeth like you wanna rip out a chunk."

"I might as well, Matthew!"

It wasn't easy to go up against a football player who was used to tackling and defending, but he made it seem like a piece of cake. All I had to do was use my body weight to push him back on his bed, and the next thing I knew, I was hovering over him. I don't think he'd even fought much.

We landed on the mattress and as he tried to get back up—not like it would've been difficult for him—I pinned my hands on his chest and threw my legs on either sides of him, straddling his stomach.

"There!" I grinned down at him in victory.

He didn't even struggle to get away from under me. He stared up at me with dark eyes, his lips tightly sealed shut as if he was holding himself back. And when his chest rose up to fill in a long breath, I realized our position.

I looked down at ourselves, a deep blush rising to my cheeks, but I held my ground. "See that, Williams? I could bite you if I wanted to. But I'll let you go now. Be thankful."

I started to get off him until I felt his hand brush against my ankle, and something told me he was stopping himself from grabbing it to keep me where I was. And that little thought made me freeze on top of him.

"Andrews," he whispered, his voice a deep, husky whisper. "I knew you wouldn't."

All talk, no action, huh?

Why was I feeling so breathless all of a sudden?

"Don't tempt me," I challenged, and he looked unfazed all the same, holding my stare, maybe even inviting me to do it. I courageously bent over, setting aim on his shoulder but it was the way he watched me, at ease and not even trying to defend himself, like he just knew that I wasn't going to do it.

So, I did the unexpected. I ducked down and pressed my lips against his.

I had no idea he would react so quickly, like he was just waiting for me to do that as he wrapped his arms around me and rolled over so I was under him.

Oh. My. God!

My hands cupped around his face, and I panted for breath as his weight buried me into the mattress. I'd never been kissed like that. His lips tasted mine like he'd never had anything better. His hands explored me like he'd found a lost treasure. I found myself wrapping my legs around him, and he grabbed my thighs and squeezed them—probably a sign of his approval.

"Matt," I whimpered against his shoulder when he brought his mouth to my neck and sucked, making a groan escape my lips.

My nails dug into his back through his t-shirt before I brought my fingers to his chest, courageously dipping lower, down his torso, and towards his pants.

That's when he broke apart to grab them before they could slip any further and brought them up to his chest, holding them between us.

It was so weird that when he stopped kissing me, I lay there under him with disappointment and not an ounce of regret. In that moment, I wasn't ashamed to admit to myself that I wanted more.

But that moment passed, and slowly, realization of what we were doing settled in. He seemed to have realized way before me as he scrutinized my face for a reaction. His eyes held worry like he considered it was his fault. Like it wasn't me who'd kissed him first.

A thousand emotions went through me when his eyes swept over my lips again like he was dealing with an inner conflict. To keep going or not. I would've voted for former if he'd asked me.

Then suddenly I remembered something. A name. It flashed like a warning sign in my head—Sean.

And I was taken over by so much guilt, I could feel tears forming in my eyes. My throat tightened with shame.

Matt's eyes ran across my face, taking in every single emotion. Then he shut them for a second and swallowed hard before opening them. The room was dead silent, except for the sounds of our heavy breathing that reminded us of the chaos we'd just created.

Then, he whispered, "You should go."

His words had felt like a dagger to the heart.

"What?"

"You should go," he said more firmly, releasing my hands and getting off me in one swift move. He strode away from his bed like I'd burnt him while I sat up, feeling a little unsettled.

"I-I should," I stuttered, wobbling out of his bed in a hurry to put on my flip-flops before aiming for the bathroom door.

"Take the front door!" His voice was slightly snappy, and I froze in my spot for a second. Without sparing him a glance, I nodded and sprinted out of his room, ran down the stairs, and walked right out of the front door.

I wasn't carrying a spare key to my house and remembered my room was locked from the inside anyway, so climbing up my window was my only option.

Still feeling a little unsettled, I climbed my way up, shut my window after me half mindedly, and got right under my covers.

I don't know why I started crying in bed.

Was it because it was my first rejection ever? Hell, I'd never been with a guy before to be rejected by him. Or was it because the rejection had come from Matt?

Or was it because I had suddenly remembered I had a boyfriend? Sean. The great guy I'd wanted for over a year and finally had now.

And I'd almost cheated on him back there. No, scratch the almost. I had cheated on him.

What the hell was my problem?