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When they got to the corner, Katie stopped to pull the mask from her face. She tossed it into the trash. Matt shook his head with a smirk. “So, what are you going to do now, Miss Katie?”
She responded with a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know. Take a long hot bath and go to bed.”
“I know it’s none of my business, and I’ll probably kick myself for this later, but I think you should listen to Ky.”
“And what?” She cocked her head at him.
His hand squeezed her side. “See what Brendan has to say.” They were in front of Beanie’s. “Is this you?”
“Yeah.” Katie pointed up. “I live upstairs.”
“How about you make us some coffee?”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“Just to talk,” he added.
“Okay.” She mustered up a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
He followed her inside the shop and Katie locked the door behind him. She turned on a small light behind the counter. “What would you like?”
“Whatever’s easy.”
Matt leaned on the counter with his elbows and watched her prepare the French press. Five minutes later Katie pressed a cup into his hands and poured one for herself. He took a seat on one of the sofas that lined the wall and patted the spot beside him.
“Thanks.” He took a sip of his coffee. “This is good.”
He cleared his throat and turned in his seat so he was facing her. Katie wasn’t in the mood to politely chat about the weather, or current events, or to talk about anything at all. She really did just want to wash this night away with a long, hot bath and crawl into bed. Matt had that look on his face, though—that look someone gets when they have something to say, but they’re trying to come up with the words. The bath would have to wait. She probably wouldn’t have been able sleep anyway. He opened his mouth to speak.
“We grew up together. All of us.” Matt put his cup down and took her hand. “I’ve known Brendan my entire life and what you saw tonight…that’s not who he is.”
“He owns a sex club, Matt. I’d say—”
“That’s what he does, yeah, but he’s so much more than that. Isn’t there more to you than this cup of coffee?”
“He fucked—”
“Yeah, he fucked her. She cut him, and I don’t think that was in the script either. Now let me finish.” Matt squeezed her hand. “I’m not gonna tell you he’s a saint, ’cause he ain’t.” And he chuckled. “Look at that, I rhymed there.”
The guy’s a poet and he…nah. I’m not gonna say it.
Katie chewed the inside corner of her lip instead.
“But I will tell you he’s probably the best man I know. Works hard. Plays hard. Fucks hard.” He smirked and gave her hand another squeeze. “But he loves hard too.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m a musician in a pretty well-known band, and I know what it’s like to be pre-judged for what you do and not who you are. I get to fuck a lot of women, but I never get to love any. Want to know why?”
Hearing that made her sad for him.
“Why?”
“No one ever gives me the chance.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s usually one of two things. Women either want to be with me for the money or the fame…or they assume, because of who I am, because I play in a band and all that shit, that I can’t keep my dick in my pants. They get all paranoid and it’s over before it even starts.”
“So, you’re telling me…”
“Give him the chance. Brendan would never betray anyone he loves. Not ever. I know I wouldn’t,” he implored before softening his voice. “Besides, if you don’t, you’ll always wonder if you should have. And that little piece of you that’s left wondering won’t be there for the next guy that comes along. That guy deserves to have all of you, every beautiful piece of you. Same as you’d want every piece of him.”
