The Muse's Undoing

My head jerks slightly. “You’re not just some guy, Matty.”

“Have you gamed this out in your head, though? In terms of Maggie, Mom and Dad. Nicole?”

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” I remind him. “We never have.”

“Not on paper, maybe…”

“Not in any way.” I study him closer. He’s chewing his cheek. His fingertips are brushing back and forth over his thumb. He’s all but screaming at me to put an arm around him, but instead, his body is stiff, and his words are tight and clipped. Quiet.

This is Matthew at his absolute most addictive. A perfectly beautiful mess, specifically designed to make me throw all my inhibitions aside. I might as well just hand him my heart and tell him to put it in a sculpture. Etch it, solder it, try to make something useful out of it because he’s going to destroy it either way.

We’re on a collision course, and it’s moving fast. It would be just as dangerous to get off the ride as stay on it. I have zero illusions when it comes to him. I know his track record, and I know we’re complicating things, which can’t be easy for a guy who likes to keep things simple.

While his thoughts might be a rainbow-colored chaos cloud, he works a simple job, avoids emotional entanglements, and processes his feelings with art and sex.

So I get what it takes for him to bring this up with me. He’s trying to set his expectations, which means he’s developing some. I’m more curious about what those are than I am wondering whether I’m suddenly going to see the light and want to date Raven because of how it would look on a Christmas card.

“I think it’s important we not think too far ahead,” I say carefully.

“No, I mean, I get that,” he says casually even as his posture remains rigid. “I’m not trying to make you predict the future or anything. I’m just wondering whether it’s an option. Or if you’re just trying not to think about it.”

“I don’t see Raven as an option,” I say.

“You don’t think maybe you should?” he asks, sounding pained. “Or maybe you might feel differently if Vaughn gets along with her?”

That image hits me in the gut. I have a visceral reaction to it, shuddering. That’s never going to happen. I might not be ready to shout it from the rooftops or gather the family together to make an announcement, but I’m in love with Matthew. Deeply, and unquestioningly. Now’s probably not the time to bring that up, though. He’s already close to spiraling.

I scoot closer to him and grab his fidgeting hand.

“It makes me sick thinking about you with someone else,” he says.

“I know.” I feel the exact same.

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question…?”

“No,” I say, covering his mouth with my other hand, and for the first time in several minutes, his eyes crinkle with a smile. He kisses my fingers before I pull them away. “Maybe you should take a nap,” I tell him.

“Is that brotherly advice, or…?”

“Oh, you wanna play now?”

He advances on me, and I don’t have the will to move away. “Maybe I don’t need a nap. Maybe I need a distraction.”

“Don’t you have laundry to do?”

“It hasn’t buzzed yet,” he says, his nose brushing mine.

I rest my hands on his chest where I feel his heart slamming into his ribcage. Exactly the way mine is. “For the record,” I say, while I can still form a coherent thought, “It makes me sick thinking about you with someone else, too.”

Matthew shakes his head. “At least you don’t have to see the proof of it walking in and out of the lobby all the time acting like she and I have a special secret.”

“I’ll fix it,” I promise him.

“Tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.”