One
Sometimes, the only comfort Kit found was in a cup of green tea and a book. Even though it was Friday night and slammed, The Back Porch—one of L.A.’s best-kept coffeehouse secrets—was the only place Kit wanted to be. With his book in hand and a cup of steaming tea at his elbow, the noise of the shop disappeared. The hip crowd surrounding him had been replaced by Carlos and Ferdinand as they confessed their love. Romance novels always made Kit’s skin tingle, even though it was all bullshit. Spies. Assassins. War heroes. Hell, astronauts. Kit could suspend reality for all the farfetched characters. Real life was different. Kit couldn’t halt reality here. There were no men like Carlos or Ferdinand. They were all the antagonist, Enrique, in real life, sending dick pics and saying, “You know you want some of this.” Reality sucked.
A shadow fell over the table.
Kit didn’t bother looking up from his book. “No.”
Another Enrique skittered away.
Kit rolled his eyes. Men were all the same. He turned the page in his book. The sound of sexy laughter penetrated his thoughts. It was a husky rumble—like it would feel good against the shell of his ear. Kit would know that laugh anywhere. He automatically pressed his hand to his stomach as his chin shot up. Sitting diagonally from Kit, within his perfect line of view, was Matthew. Kit couldn’t believe it. Since they met a year ago, Kit swore he had gone his entire life without seeing the guy, and now he saw him everywhere. Kit would know if he had seen him before that first meeting. There were men, and then there was Matthew Ross. Sometimes, all Kit had to do was look at Matthew and his day improved. It wasn’t that Matthew was sexy. He was, but it wasn’t only that. Matthew was the entire package. Smart, funny, and charming. People flocked to him, which was good, since he was a personal trainer and yoga instructor at Kit’s gym. His classes were always packed. Everyone was there for Matthew. He single-handedly sold out the gym’s water bottles every day when he worked. Matthew made people thirsty as hell. Kit was no exception.
For the past year, Kit had been going to lunch with Matthew at least twice a week. They weren’t dating, but—sometimes—it felt like they were. Kit liked that people thought they were a couple everywhere they went. Everyone’s misconceptions made him feel less like himself. That was a good thing. As always, when Matthew was around, Kit couldn’t look away. Every inch of his exposed skin, except his face, was covered in tattoos. His sleek body looked like it belonged to a yoga instructor. He fascinated Kit, and no one held Kit’s attention for long. Matthew was the exception to a lot of rules.
Unfortunately, there was no ignoring that Matthew wasn’t alone tonight. Kit’s gaze shifted to the man sitting across from Matthew. With his back to Kit, Kit couldn’t make out much beyond the fact that he had wide shoulders. The way Matthew smiled—like he couldn’t wait to peel away the guy’s clothes—had Kit’s stomach muscles drawing up tight. Dread had his throat swelling. He had known it was unlikely Matthew went home alone every night. This was the first time Kit had ever witnessed Matthew spending time with anyone else. It hurt.
Matthew turned his head. Their gazes collided. For a moment, Kit stared into Matthew’s hazel eyes, and then it hit him. He was jealous.
Kit looked away. He placed his bookmark inside the book and dug some money from his wallet. Kit left his server a twenty-dollar tip since he had held the guy’s table hostage for over an hour. With nothing left to distract him, Kit slid from the booth and headed for the door. He was careful not to meet anyone’s stare, especially Matthew’s. Kit had nothing to offer. Sometimes, he had to remind himself of that when it came to Matthew. But they were friends, so that meant he had to let Matthew be happy with someone else. That knowledge didn’t stop Kit from feeling like someone stood on his chest, crushing the air from his lungs.
As he slipped behind the wheel of his Lincoln Navigator, his phone chimed. Kit checked the face.
Matthew: Come back inside. You can’t walk away like you didn’t see me.
For a long moment, Kit considered not answering. In the end, he couldn’t be that petty over something Matthew hadn’t done wrong. They weren’t dating. Matthew didn’t owe Kit a thing. He was free to date whomever he wanted. Fuck.
Kit: I’m working on a migraine, so I’m headed to bed. Enjoy your date. We’ll talk soon. XOXO.
For good measure, Kit turned off his phone. There was no one who would call him in an emergency. He lived with the only couple who cared if Kit lived or died. Over a year ago, Kit’s best friend Lucky had gotten married and pretty much dropped Kit. Kit’s other friend, Zep, was more like a father figure than anything and that was where Kit lived, so he wouldn’t need to call. There was no real family, as far as Kit was concerned. He could turn off his phone without an ounce of regret. No one cared about him or needed him. Kit could disappear right now. No one would look for him. Sometimes, he thought he might do just that one day. He didn’t owe this town or anyone in it a goddamned thing. Kit was free.
Two years ago, Matthew had been at the darkest point in his life. While on a drug and alcohol self-medicating bender, Matthew had opened a magazine and set eyes on an angel. He had memorized every line. Lusted after every inch of nude skin. Most of all, he had been saved by an unexpected obsession. Then one day, completely out of the blue, that obsession had walked into Matthew’s work. At first, he hadn’t believed his eyes. Since he had been known to suffer PTSD-induced hallucinations, Matthew hadn’t thought Kit was real. Then he had heard Kit speak, and Matthew had nearly hyperventilated.
Matthew had taken a breath, forced his feet to move at a tempered pace, and closed the distance between them. There had been zero chance he would pass up the opportunity to meet Kit, even if he looked like a fool. Their gazes had met, Matthew swore angels had sung, and Matthew hadn’t stopped trying to get in Kit’s pants since. So far, he hadn’t even convinced Kit to hold his hand.
Now, a year later, Matthew was at a new level of desperation to win Kit. He couldn’t seem to stop the insanity. Matthew didn’t think he was wrong for his obsession, though. He imagined anyone would react the same. Matthew had been given the opportunity to be close to his biggest celebrity crush and he would not stop until Kit either gave in or... he didn’t know. He might not ever give up, even if Kit took out a restraining order. Matthew was too far gone already.
Tonight was a good example. The guy sitting across from him at The Back Porch had been asking Matthew to have coffee with him for six months. Matthew had blown him off until tonight. The only reason they were together now was because of Kit. Matthew had known Kit was here. This was a new low. Matthew wanted to make Kit jealous. He had purposely sat in Kit’s line of sight. Unfortunately, Kit had been lost in a book, forcing Matthew to talk and laugh louder until he looked like a crazy person. Until their gazes had collided, that is. That moment made Matthew’s every desperate move worthwhile. He hoped Kit’s leaving meant he had accomplished his goal. Matthew needed Kit to stop seeing him as only a friend. Sometimes, Matthew caught a hint of interest in Kit’s eyes. Matthew had to fan those flames. He had to do this. He had to have this. Matthew couldn’t live with any other outcome. Kit had to be his.