Hard Tail(61)

While Matt went up for a shower, I tried very, very hard not to think about the fact that he would soon be naked, only yards away from me. Would be getting into my-all right, Jay's-shower and soaping himself up, lathering all over, maybe paying particular attention to certain areas …  I sighed. "Down, boy," I muttered to a part of me that was by now also very, very hard.




 

 

When I looked at the clock, I saw it was well after nine. Pritchard must have got home from work some time ago-must have found Matt's note and realised he'd been dumped. If it hadn't been for tonight's little revelation, I might even have been tempted to feel sorry for the bastard. As it was, I couldn't blame Matt for wanting to avoid a confrontation that could land him in the hospital. For the first time, it occurred to me Steve might not feel the same way-might come looking for Matt. Might want to use some very forceful arguments to persuade Matt to come back to him.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself I could handle it if he did-as long as he didn't catch me by surprise, I was confident I could take him in a fight. Of course, Jay might be none too pleased if there was any brawling in his shop. On the other hand, any publicity, as they say, is good publicity …  But what if he turned up here? I didn't much like the idea of having to be on my guard constantly. Chances were good he didn't have Jay's address, but it'd be nice to know for sure.

Matt had left his phone charging up on the kitchen counter. As I glanced at it, a text message kerplunked through. Should I give Matt a yell? It might be something urgent.

It might be Pritchard, saying he knew where Matt was and was on his way round.

I felt guilty even as I picked it up-but I still checked the message anyway.

It was from Pritchard-at least, I was fairly sure Matt wouldn't have any other Steve texting him Baby, come back, I miss u. My stomach lurched. Had I been wrong about Steve?

There were eleven other messages, all from Steve. I opened the second: it was a similar plaintive outpouring of love and hurt. The third: Im sorry, well work it out. Guilt twisted painfully inside me. The fourth … I stared at the words, unwilling to believe this was the guy Matt had lived with. Loved. Ur making a big mistake. Ur nothing without me. It was like watching a car crash; I couldn't stop myself flicking to the next. Useles fucking cunt. Hurried flick. U no i only say these things cos i love u. Cum bac. Flick. Think that posh tossers goin to want u when he finds out how pahtetic ur?

I shut the phone with a snap and put it down quickly before it slipped out of my sweaty hands. Posh tosser? Was that supposed to be me? While I wasn't entirely happy with either part of the description I had to concede I was probably the poshest, well, tosser in Matt's little circle of acquaintance.

Did Prick-tard think Matt, well, fancied me?

Did Matt fancy me?

Maybe … maybe I should tell him how I felt? If there was even the slightest chance he felt the same …

Oh, yes, right. Because of course cheating on his best mate was bound to be the way to Matt's heart. I had to finish things with Adam, I decided. Whether or not Matt liked me was beside the point. The point was, I'd fallen for someone else-hard-and it wasn't fair to either of us to keep messing around with Adam. 

I'd call him tomorrow. Get him to come round-or we could go out somewhere, maybe, although that would mean leaving Matt on his own, which I was reluctant to do-and I'd tell him it was over. I hoped Adam wouldn't be too upset. He'd seemed quite fond of me-but we'd never really spoken about what we wanted from the relationship, had we?

It suddenly struck me that tomorrow was Wednesday-karate night. I wondered if Pritchard would go. He really didn't strike me as the sort to sit at home and pine for his ex. I shivered. The thought of Pritchard in fighting mode when he actually had a good reason to be in a foul mood was not a happy one.

Would I go? I felt conflicted. I didn't want to leave Matt on his own-but on the other hand I didn't want to miss training because of Prick-tard, and I definitely didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of thinking he'd scared me off. Maybe Adam would stay with Matt, if I asked? Actually, thinking about it, that was a brilliant idea. If Adam was feeling a bit low because of our breakup, Matt would be able to cheer him up. Matt could cheer anyone up.

I was certainly feeling a lot better now.





Chapter Eighteen




When I stumbled downstairs Wednesday morning, the first thing I saw was a tousle-headed Matt, wandering around the kitchen in nothing but his boxer shorts.

I've never had much appetite for food in the mornings, but God, Matt looked good enough to eat. His torso was lean yet defined, just as you'd expect of a cyclist, and those broad shoulders gave him a rangy, powerful look that did interesting things to certain parts of me. "Morning!" I called out a bit too brightly. "Have you found everything you need?"