The Great Pretenders

Chapter 21

This one is for my very patient friend @MattHorsecockSanders

Lucy's POV

My heart was thundering on the drive home. And the way Matt looked over at me from time to time, I was certain that he could hear it.

When he pulled up in front of my apartment building, I wasn't sure what to do. I guess he wasn't sure either because neither of us moved.

"Lucy," he began as he turned to look at me, his hands still gripping the steering wheel "I don't exactly know what happened back there. But I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," I chuckled softly because he was so confused. "But I guess...since we're apologizing...I'm sorry too. I'm sorry if I ruined your chances with Val."

He looked surprised "Is that what you're worried about?"

No. Not at all. "Yes," I said hoarsely.

He chuckled softly into the darkness "I'm not worried about my chances with Val."

He seemed so confident that he was going to get her back. I just didn't know how to reply so I went with. "Thanks for the ride, Sanders."

I opened the car door and slammed it quickly, not wanting to look back.

I heard him follow after me but I didn't turn to acknowledge him. I knew if I did, I was going to lose it. Part of me was glad that he was only a few steps behind but the rest of me was freaking out because I'd have to explain why I'd acted like a complete maniac.

I could only imagine how well that would go over. "I'm sorry, Sanders. I'm just having a small mental breakdown because I find myself falling into the deep abyss that is full of romantic feelings for you, even though technically I'm supposed to be helping you get your ex-girlfriend back."

Oh yeah that would be one conversation I'm sure he'd be excited to have.

He followed me through the building and to my front door as I grabbed the spare key from under the mat and unlocked the door. Stepping over the threshold, he asked from behind me "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Matt," I turned to face him and answered honestly. Since when have you been concerned with what a good idea is, I asked myself.

He chuckled softly and I crossed my arms self-consciously. "You called me Matt. Not Sanders."

"Either way it's not a good idea," I insisted shaking my head side to side.

"Do you want to clue me in as to what is going on here?" he asked a bit of pleading in his tone. "I'm totally lost."

"Me too," I mumbled.

He took my face in both his hands, his thumbs running softly over my cheekbones and temples. Ran his thumb softly across the bruising under my eye. I felt tears in the corners of my eyelids, hoping like hell they wouldn't flow. "Hey now," he whispered against my lips, touching but not quite kissing; his breath sweet. I held my breath as he leaned in to kiss me.

My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to taste every bit of him. He pulled me closer, held me tighter, his large palms warm on my back.

I broke the kiss, gasping for air, only long enough to ask. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you..." he whispered hoarsely.

"But there's no one watching here," I couldn't help but point out.

"Good," he said capturing my lips one more time "I only like audiences when I'm on stage."