Chapter 21: Renee

Jason was still talking an hour later, long after dinner had ended, and honestly, he lost me about forty-five minutes before that. Jason talked a lot, it was one of the things that bothered me, but I could only try to ignore it. When he speaks, he doesn't care who’s listening. He basically just talks and hopes someone responds, so I’ve found that as long as I offer up a random nod and gasp of surprise at the right moments, he’s perfectly content with that.

Eventually, we ended up at the library. Even though it was late, this library stayed open until around Midnight. I’ve become pretty taken with this library, especially this late at night. It was quiet and cozy, a far cry from campus frat parties and the usual day-to-day ruckus.

“Okay, how did we end up here?” Jason asked, brow furrowing as he looked around in distaste.

“I like it here,” I told him.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, actually.” I drop his hand and step into the warmth of the building, forcing a smile. “I have some studying to do. Are you okay calling it a night?”

“Studying? You didn’t even have your school bag.”

“They have everything I need here.” I smile patiently at him, just wishing he would leave already. I could only listen to him talk about his academic achievements for so long before wishing I could turn my hearing off.

“Whatever the lady says,” Jason said with a wink, kissing the top of my hand. He pulls me into him, of course, and plants a kiss on my head. I waited for the sensation I yearned to wash over me, the desperate desire to have his hands on me, against my body and skin. I wait for the tingling between my legs or the quickened beat of my heart.

But nothing comes. Not with Jason.

Not like it was with Aaron and Jake.

I forced a small laugh for him and allowed a quick kiss on the cheek before he departed, finally leaving me alone in serene silence. I watch him go, a tightness in my chest that won’t seem to ease off. I might have to break it off with Jason. I really might. Try as I have, I couldn't seem to find that same spark with him as I feel with the other two.

And it was not fair for either of us.

With a sigh, I take my pick of empty tables and slide into a chair, resting my forehead on the wooden tabletop. I feel like I could sleep here, and the exhaustion that overtakes me is overwhelming. For the dozenth time tonight, I think of seeing Matt at dinner, Matt and his mother, anyway, a woman I didn’t know well but still respected. Something is wrong with her, that much is clear, and the exchange between Matt and his mom makes me wonder what their relationship is like. Are they close? Does she know what a bully he used to be?

I rub the tiredness from my eyes and massage my temples, trying to ward off an oncoming headache. I’ve just about decided to head home alone when the library door opens again. It was almost ten, so I looked up, expecting it to be one of the late shift workers. But it was not.

It was Matthew Nelson.

He spotted me almost as soon as I spotted him, and for a brief moment, neither of us made a sound or a movement. Matt looked as tired as I felt, emotionally drained and tense. The fight from earlier is gone from his eyes. He’s not scowling. He just looked … sad.

I’ve never seen him look sad before. Not in this lifetime.

For a moment, I think Matt is about to turn around and bail, but when he doesn't, I do the only thing I could think of. I pointed at the empty chair across from me and shrugged my shoulders. Matt hesitates, scoping me out, then, much to my surprise, he walks over and plops down in the chair across from me.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.”

Silence. I swallow, feeling tense suddenly, but force myself to face him. He’s just a man, a young man with intense emotions.

After all, I remind myself. He’s only human.

I wanted to say anything to break the silence, but I didn’t know what to say, so finally, Matt spoke.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked, pretending to look around.

I roll my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“What is he then?”

“A friend. I am allowed to have friends.”

“Friends that take you out to dinner?”

“Yes,” I insist, heat rising under the collar of my jacket. “I wish more friends did that for each other.”

When Matt met my gaze again, I could see the teasing glint behind the darkness of his eyes.

“I was just fucking with you, Lyon. Relax.”

I folded my arms over my chest, pouting, but Matt was still grinning. It was a tired smile, but it was there, and honestly? It was one of the sexiest genuine smiles I’d ever seen.

“What is this?” I dropped my hands onto the table, keeping my steady gaze on his. “Why are you joking around now? Earlier today, you were shooting daggers through me with your attitude alone.”

Matt shakes his head, and his eyes finally drop from mine. He pretends to pick at a skin tag on his rough, calloused hands.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.

“Try me.”

He sighs, aggravated now, but I no longer care. I was done screwing around with this guy and his shitty attitude.

“Look, Renee,” Matt said with a slight shake of his head as if this whole exchange was the most annoying thing he’s ever had to face. “You bring something out in me, okay?” He pauses and takes a deep breath, and I stay silent, waiting for him to go on. “You bring out so much in me that sometimes I can’t control my emotions. I felt jealous when I saw you in our apartment with Jake earlier this evening. So fucking jealous. I thought that was it, that my chance with you was gone, done, and ruined. And honestly?” he runs a hand through his shaggy black hair and shrugs his shoulders.

“Honestly, what?”

“Honestly, it killed me, okay? It shattered me.”

Silence settles over the table, a tense, awkward silence that feels so quiet I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

“But then I saw you with Jason,” Matt continues. “At the restaurant tonight, and it brought out an entire new hurricane of emotions.”

“How come?”

“Because if you were on a date with Jason, maybe that meant that nothing was going on between you and Jake. That nothing was serious yet.” He took another deep breath and stopped talking, focusing again on his hands. “And I thought it might be easier, you know, to have a chance with you if I wasn’t trying to steal you from my best friend.”

Best friends, Matt, I think with an inward shiver. If only you fucking knew what sweet little Renee has been up to.

But I didn't say this. I didn't say anything. I watched him instead, noticing how the tired lines on his face danced with his many changing expressions.

“Matt, is your mom okay?” I asked finally, hoping we could avoid the best friend conversation altogether. “She looked … well, she didn’t look good.”

Matt hesitates, and for a second, I was sure he wasn’t going to tell me anything like maybe I’ve stepped into something far too personal, but then he rubs the back of his neck and shakes his head, defeated.

“Cancer. Lung cancer. Stage two.”

“Jesus.” My hand fluttered over my mouth, shocked, and Matt looked away, unable to hold my eyes. I couldn't blame him. Forcing my shock to the sidelines, I reached over without thinking about it and placed my hand over Matt’s, squeezing. I expected him to pull away at once, but he didn’t. “I am sorry,” I said quietly. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“Yeah, well, that’s life, right?”

“What is her treatment plan? Her chances?”

“She has been in chemo for over six months,” Matt said. “The doctors think it was working okay, but it makes her sick, too. She is nothing but skin and bones now.”

“The cigarette,” I said, remembering something suddenly. “You said it was a metaphor. You never lit it.”

“Yeah. My mom smoked for the majority of her life. I used to as a teenager as well. When she got her diagnosis, I just started doing it as comfort. It stuck.”

I didn’t say anything to this. There was nothing to say. I didn't ask about Matt’s dad, either, because I already know the story. Most of our senior high school class did, actually. Matt’s loser dad had taken off when he was little after beating his mom unconscious and trying to load Matt up in his truck to take him away. I didn’t know the details, but I didn’t need to. It was a horrifying ordeal; if I’d ever given myself a reason to feel bad for Matthew Nelson, that would have been it.

“Look, Matt …” I started to pull my hand away, figuring it was beginning to make him uncomfortable, but I was shocked when he grabbed hold of it to stop me, squeezing it gently. I relax and leave it there. “I am sorry you found me in the apartment with Jake. We were just talking.”

“They like you too, you know,” Matt said, chuckling darkly. “Both Jake and Aaron. I guess we all do, really.”

“Yeah, I … I think I know that.” I dropped my gaze again because I couldn't seem to face him for much longer. Being with him, at this moment, together in the warm silence of the library, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to lean over the table, press my lips to his, and hold onto him until I felt safe again. Matt has always given me that impression … security. It was a comforting thought.

I wanted to tell him everything. I really did. I wanted to tell him that I’d already been with Jake and Aaron and that it was a mistake because I never intended to hurt any of them.

But I was afraid to tell him anything. Afraid of how he’d react.

And I realized right then that I was afraid of how he’d react because I might have feelings for him, too.

No, scratch that. I definitely had feelings for Matthew Nelson, and my feelings for him were just as intense and overwhelming as I had for his friends.

And it was clear now, as I slowly pulled my hand out from under his, trying not to get lost in the dark, shadowy eyes, that this man sitting in front of me was the third and final nail in my inevitable coffin.

I had an early morning shift rotation at the hospital the next day, and I was awake by four-thirty so I could get to the ER in time to do rounds before I had to be ready for class. I stayed up too late, so I was exhausted, and every passing second quietly berates me for thinking I could handle boy drama, class, and work all in one.

“Heads up, Lyon, we have multiple fire victims en route,” Doctor Shaffer called. “The fire department is bringing them in.”

“Got it.” I pulled some gloves over the sleeve of my gown and followed Doc Shaffer to the ambulance bay, where an enormous fire truck was rolling up, lights flashing. An ambulance was already parked, and two people got out. One was a woman I didn’t know, and the other was Aaron.

“I was wondering when I’d see you here,” Aaron said with a grin, pulling open the back of the bus doors to unload the first patient. “This is Samantha Daniels, thirty-three years old. She has second-degree burns on her arms and torso, but her breathing has been stabilized. She had plenty of smoke inhalation when the building went up.”

“What kind of building?”

“An apartment building. There are two more buses en route.”

“Second bus ETA is three minutes,” said a rough, familiar voice. I freeze, turning on my heel to see a firefighter jump out of the truck. He’s dressed in full bunker gear, and I almost didn’t recognize him beneath the dark ash that tints his face. My eyes widened.

“Matt.”