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Okay, my heart was definitely going to melt. This was definitely couplely-type stuff.
I stashed our food wrappers in the bag and placed it in the footwell.
With my hand on Matty’s thigh, we rode in companionable silence for a while before another one of Joan’s texts came through the console. She wanted to know what time we’d arrive Santa Monica.
Matty told Siri: “We’ll be there by five to hand over the statue.”
“And how was last night?” was Joan’s reply along with a thinking face emoji.
She seemed less concerned about the statue—and, ergo, embassy men with machine guns—and more intrigued to know how we entertained ourselves last night.
Through Matty’s phone, I sent back the zipper-mouth face emoji.
That appeared to be enough of a confession for Joan because the reply, which came through the car’s speakers was, “Which of you needs the donut pillow?” Siri’s next question was, “Do you want to reply?”
“No,” Matty all but shouted.
“A donut pillow sounds useful right about now,” I said to Matty, shifting in my seat.
No lie, I couldn’t get truly comfortable. I felt everything from last night. I couldn’t just plop down in the seat.
“Sorry,” Matty said, and I knew he meant it. “Would it sound weird if I said you get used to it, and even crave it, because it’s not just a memory, but a physical reminder?”
That didn’t sound weird at all. It made sense. “I take it you’ve bottomed before?”
“Not often, but I have before. Most of my previous hookups were of the hand-job or blow-job variety.”
“Why?” I thought I knew the answer, but wanted to hear Matty’s version.
Matty studied me for a quick second to see if it was a serious question. It was. I’d never judge him.
“Honestly,” he said, rubbing his face, “actual penetrative sex takes time and sometimes, with hookups, both parties usually just want a quick release.”
“Like, you meet at a party or a club and decide to get off in the restroom?”
“Exactly. Though you’d be surprised at how often it happens in locker rooms. Pretty common, actually, or back in the hotel if it’s an away meet. There’s a lot of pent-up adrenaline at athletic competitions.” Matty glanced at me again. “I know this isn’t the sexy part, but I feel it’s best to be honest with you. I’m not a novice and you know that I’ve used sex in the past to mask my problems. I get tested regularly. I’m on PreP and I’ve always used condoms.”
“I understand and I appreciate you telling me. I’d rather know than not know.” My next question was a delicate one. “Do those kinds of situations tempt you, even if you’re in a relationship with someone?”
Matty blew out a breath, which, in the moment, wasn’t encouraging.
“I’ve had a few short-lived relationships and I can say with one hundred percent honesty that I was never tempted to stray while with them.”
That made me feel better. Now to the actual meat of my line of questioning because I was somewhat worried about two things.
“And what if I…” I hesitated. I felt my nerves in my throat.
“You can ask me anything, Ciaran.” He squeezed my hand.
“What if I don’t want to top? I’m not saying I’ll never want to, but right now, it’s not something I’m all that interested in. I guess I’m wondering if that’s a dealbreaker.”
Without even missing a beat, Matty said, “Not a dealbreaker at all, babe. Sex and affection don’t have to be penetrative in nature. I’ll always respect your boundaries, Ciaran. Always.”
“Thanks,” I said, offering him a grateful smile. “That’s good to know. But there’s another thing I want to discuss before we get back to Malibu. The elephant in the room.”
“Which one?”
His grim expression confirmed that there were multiple elephants in the room, from blackmailing, to stolen artifacts, my college admissions, to the fact that we were dating.
