Chapter 77

Matt

Matt couldn’t concentrate on the party or the people around him. After Celeste had come in claiming a homeless man had attacked her, his stomach had been in knots and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The noise faded into the background as he stared at his phone. The mobile app he’d been using to talk to Rose stared up at him mockingly. There were no numbers in the corner. He still didn’t have any new messages.

He opened the app anyway. His last message to Rose still had the ‘Unread’ text underneath it. He glared at it as if he could make it change to ‘Read’ with just his will alone. But he’d spent so much time doing that, he knew it was hopeless.

Then to his shock, it did change. Every single hair on his arm stood on end as he held his breath, waiting for a message to appear. But it didn’t. Rose wasn’t even typing. What if it wasn’t her? What if someone else had logged on? What if Rose had also been attacked?

Rose? Are you there?

Cold sweat rolled down his cheek as his heart rate spiked. There was still no response.

Rose? Please say something.

Matt didn’t care if he sounded desperate. He would gladly give away his ‘man card’ if it meant that he knew Rose was okay.

Hey, Matt.

The relief that flowed through Matt was almost corporeal. It wrapped around him like a warm embrace. Rose was okay. She was okay.

But as quickly as the relief came, it went, the warmth surrendering to a cold anger. She’d left him waiting for so long. He had been so worried about her and all she could manage was a ‘Hey, Matt’?

He typed several angry messages, deleting them before he could send them. Matt wrestled with that part of himself. He knew from watching Jack worry about Celeste that giving into the anger that came later never worked out. Hell, Celeste had practically run out of the room just minutes before after Jack’s outburst.

Jack always felt bad afterward, but there was nothing he could do to take it back. Matt didn’t want to be like that.

Rose! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried…Are you okay?

That seemed like the safest alternative. It was the truth, anyway. He could sort out the bad feelings later when Rose wouldn’t be a target for them. Maybe he’d take it out on one of the opposing team members during their next game.

A feral smile that was more a baring of teeth formed on his face. Yeah, that sounded good. He’d knock some of the more cocky players on their asses, take them down a peg or two.

He continued messaging Rose, losing all of his awareness to his surroundings, his focus solely on his phone. Something wasn’t right. Her responses were too short. Too blunt. This wasn’t like her at all.

Someone knocked into him, spilling beer into his lap. Matt glared up at the offender.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to,” the guy slurred, patting Matt on top of the head like he was a child that needed comforting. Matt knocked the hand away and stood up. He’d go clean up and stay somewhere more private. Jack wouldn’t miss him much.

He made his way to the restroom, using a towel to mop up the mess. The bitter smell of beer made his nose twitch. He was kind of glad that Rose wasn’t here. He didn’t want her to see him like this.

He opened the door to find Jack on the other side, arms crossed. Matt groaned inwardly. He didn’t have time for one of Jack’s temper tantrums. He just wanted to talk to Rose.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked, his nostrils flaring. He looked like a bull when he got like this and Matt held back a laugh at the mental image of Jack running for one of those red flags that the Matadors held.

“Someone spilled beer on me. I was just cleaning it up,” Matt said, trying to push by his friend, but Jack wasn’t budging. God, the guy was stubborn.

“No, I mean what the hell are you doing? It’s a party. Why have you been on your phone the whole night? And don’t tell me it’s because of Rose.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I won’t. Are you going to get out of my way or am I going to have to make you?”

Jack groaned. “It is because of Rose, isn’t it? Man, she won’t even show you her face. Just drop her already. She isn’t worth it.”

Matt pressed his lips together to keep from saying something he would regret. He knew Jack was just being his overprotective self, but Matt was an adult capable of making his own decisions. If it turned out to be a mistake and he got his heart broken, then he would deal with it when the time came. But it still didn’t change the fact that it was none of Jack’s business.

“Maybe not, but that’s my decision. And as my friend, you should respect my decisions,” he finally said and Jack rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, man. But you can’t say that I didn’t warn you,” Jack said before going back to his party. It was Matt’s turn to roll his eyes. But he couldn’t blame Jack for being worried. His and Rose’s relationship was unconventional.

As Matt walked further into the hall toward Jack and Celeste’s bedrooms, he grimaced at the feel of his damp pants rubbing against him. This would not be comfortable and he didn’t really want to spend the rest of his time smelling like beer either.

He headed for Jack’s bedroom. He would just borrow a pair of his shorts. He was sure that Jack wouldn’t mind. They shared each other’s clothes all the time anyway.

He rummaged through Jack’s drawer, muttering curses under his breath. Would it kill Jack to be a bit more organized? He wondered how his friend could find anything in this mess. He smiled triumphantly as he pulled out a pair of black basketball shorts.

Matt had just finished pulling the shorts up when he heard it. Someone was sobbing loudly in the next room. He immediately knew it was Celeste. She must still be upset about the attack.

But the sounds he was hearing pulled at his heartstrings. She sounded awful and the protective urge he always seemed to feel around her overpowered everything else. He had to get to her.

He grabbed his phone and shot a quick message to Rose.

Hey, I hate to end this conversation short, but I have to go. I have to check something out.

He felt bad for leaving their conversation, especially when it had been awhile since they last spoke, but Celeste needed him. He marched out of Jack’s room and into Celeste’s, not bothering to knock.

He’d opened the door too hard and it banged against the wall. Celeste jumped as she turned toward him, her face red and puffy. Had she been crying the whole time? He briefly wondered how much of it was because of the attack and how much was because of Jack.

It didn’t matter. Without thinking, he went to her, scooping her up into his arms, ignoring her squeaky protests. He climbed into her bed, leaning his back against the wall and settling her onto his lap.