Page 244 of The Havenport Collection

Eliza

A fter a very awkward ride in Gio’s truck—the two of them kept punching each other while Gio smirked at me—we finally made it back to Matteo’s house.

I sat in the back of the truck, giddy and also nervous.

My night with Matteo had been so much more than I could have imagined.

I was hardly sexually inexperienced, but I had never experienced sex like that.

I used to think good sex meant having an orgasm.

I had been with several guys who didn’t even try very hard to get me off.

But now I knew better. I knew that every touch could be magic, and the connection could go so much further than physical.

I stared at him as we drove. God, he was handsome. And kind, and so damn sexy. I wanted to curl up in his arms and never leave.

Huh. This is new. I didn’t usually feel this way after sex. I usually went to sleep, or if it was bad I went home unsatisfied and treated myself to some pizza.

But this? This was some next level shit. And I couldn’t help but feel completely out of my depth.

However, the post-orgasmic haze had begun to lift by the time we got back to his house.

The tone had shifted, and I was feeling awkward.

Matteo seemed sheepish and embarrassed in front of his brother, and it was making me self-conscious.

Did he regret what we did together? I thought we were headed back here to hang out, maybe have some wine, talk, and perhaps get naked again—all things I was very amenable to.

But he seemed tense and uncomfortable, like he wanted me out of his space.

I wasn’t expecting the world, but after what happened on the beach, this felt strange.

I took off my boots by the door and excused myself to go to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face and marveling at how Gina’s carefully curled beachy waves had descended into chaos when faced with an actual beach.

I wiped the mascara from under my eyes and took a deep breath.

I can do this. I can be a big girl and go out there and talk to him.

Make plans for another date. Or maybe just strip naked and beg him to make me come. Either way, say something.

I walked back out through the dark hallway and found Matteo, standing in the living room, hand braced on the mantel above the fireplace.

“Eliza.”

I could tell by the way he said my name something bad was coming. He looked angry, nothing like he had back at the beach. “I don’t know what to say.”

I stood in the doorway, watching his tense body language.

“I am sorry. I feel like I took advantage earlier.”

I stepped forward, needing to put a stop to this bullshit. “Let me stop you right there. You did no such thing. I was a willing participant and I believe, if memory serves, I stripped naked first.”

I gave him a coy smile, hoping to recapture some of the playful energy we had shared earlier.

He turned to face me and crossed his arms over his chest. He was shutting down and blocking me out; it could not be more clear.

“I had a great time with you tonight. But I don’t think we should do this again.”

“Excuse me?” I was caught off guard. I knew he could be moody at times, but this felt like whiplash. Tonight had been incredible, and our connection had been magical. It felt like the beginning of something, possibly something big and messy and beautiful. And now he was shutting me out?

“I got so caught up in our date I didn’t even realize I was leading you on. I’m not interested in anything serious.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my instincts telling me to run away as quickly as possible. “Neither am I.” Okay, that was a lie, but not yet, at least. Hanging out wasn’t serious. Cuddling wasn’t serious. Burying my face in his neck and inhaling his manly smell wasn’t serious. Right?

“Yes, but the connection between us is intense, and what happened earlier, that was”—he ran his hand through his hair and looked awkwardly at his feet—“good.”

Good? My whole body tensed. I thought what happened in the lifeguard tower had been next level, earth-shattering sex. The kind that bends time and space and leaves you a more evolved human being. But I guess it was just good for him? Was he trying to piss me off?

“ So you asked me out on a date, had a great time, fucked me on the beach, and now you’re saying you don’t want to do it again? Okay, just checking.”

I turned to grab my coat. I was getting out of here. My brain had begun to short-circuit, and I worried I might cry in front of him. I was a crier, and once the tears started rolling there was no going back. I was embarrassed and confused.

He walked toward me. “It’s not like that.

I’m overwhelmed. I get up every day and can’t accomplish half of what I need to.

I am hanging on by a thread, and I value you as a friend and a babysitter and Val loves you.

I am realizing now I crossed a major line asking you out, and I think it’s best we just forget about this.

You are amazing, and in another life I would date the hell out of you.

But this,”—he cupped my cheek gently—“it’s just not going to work out.

And I wouldn’t want you wasting your time with me. ”

I stared into his dark eyes, and I could feel the tears welling. Fuck. I did not want to cry right now. I wanted to be the kind of woman who would slap him across the face, say something witty and devastating, and then make a dramatic exit, leaving him questioning all his life choices.

But instead, I had the best date of my life with a kind, funny, and gorgeous man, who also possessed the uncanny ability to make me orgasm and who wanted nothing more to do with me.

I wiped an errant tear from my cheek.

“Okay then, I’m going to head home.”

I turned back toward the door, looking for my purse.

“Let me drive you.”

I turned my back to him so he couldn’t see my face. “No, it’s fine. I can walk. It’s not that far.” My voice was shaky, and I probably sounded insane.

He grabbed my shoulder gently, pulling me toward him. “I’m not letting you walk home at midnight in the pouring rain. I’m driving you.”

I looked down at my feet, desperately trying to avoid his gaze. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He sounded angry, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eye.

I grabbed my boots quickly, feeling the hot shame all over my face. Why couldn’t I just be normal? The easy breezy cool girl who had casual sex and then took off. A few orgasms and I was catching feelings already.

We climbed into his SUV, and as he headed toward downtown, we sat in silence. The streets were thankfully empty at this hour, and it took only a few minutes to get to my apartment.

Matteo put the car in park and looked at me. “Eliza,” he said gently, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m fine.” I forced my voice to sound upbeat. “Thanks for a fun night.”

I opened the door and jumped out, desperate to put some distance between us.

“Eliza,” he called out of the window. “We good for Tuesday?” Of course, he wanted to make sure I would still babysit. I wanted to tell him no fucking thank you. But that wasn’t fair to Val; I adored that kid.

“Yup,” I said, smiling. I gave him a weak wave and jammed my key into the door, then ran upstairs and threw myself on my bed.

It was only then, in the privacy of my room, that I cried.

We had said from the start that we would keep things casual.

Just two friends hanging out. But tonight changed things.

And I found myself, for the first time, wanting more.

I don’t know if it was Miss Cleo’s prediction or just my own personal growth, but I was envisioning a future where we were together for real.

After years of casual dating and hookups, I was ready to grow up. I was ready for the next step.

Matteo was amazing—so much more than I could have ever anticipated. And I wanted more with him. More than sex, more than casual. Something I couldn’t identify or understand, but I knew I wanted it.

I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed, angry at myself and sad for what I couldn’t have. And this is why I can’t have nice things.