rings. Distracted, I absentmindedly answer it, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Addison.” I recognize the deep, smooth voice instantly.
“Matt, what number are you calling from?” He’s programmed, has his own damn ringtone for crying out loud. How am I supposed to screen him if he uses a different number?
“You weren’t answering my other calls so I’m using a land line.”
“Maybe you should have taken a hint.”
He laughs, and even though he’s 2,500 miles away, my mind watches his lips curl up, his blue eyes sparkling and his body vibrating with humor, like he’s standing right in front of me. All I’ve had the past five years are memories of this man, and now that he’s come back into my life, it’s the memories I wish I could hold onto, because I’m not sure how to handle the present day Matt Bryson. I have no idea if I love him or hate him and I’m not sure which answer I’m more afraid of.
“Addy, I took the hint two weeks ago, when you agreed to come back to my bed.” His voice lowers and his next words land in my belly, my body heating at the memory of that night. “When you let my tongue roam over every inch of your heated skin, when you welcomed me inside your wet heat and called out my name as you came.”
I’m flushed, my eyes darting through the doorway of my office, making sure I’m alone and no one notices the rising temperature of my skin. I stand and close my office door, taking a moment to gather my control, ashamed that his words have such an enormous effect on me.
“Matt,” I say, as seriously as I can, “I’m just . . . I’m not interested. That night was –“
“Touch yourself.”
“What?” I ask startled.
“I would bet a million dollars, you’re soaking wet right now. And I’m fucking hard, Addison. From twenty-five hundred miles away, your voice makes me so fucking hard.”
If I wasn’t aroused before, I am now. I may touch myself just to ease the ache that has begun between my legs. But the anger that’s been resting along the edges since this conversation started is beginning to bloom. I’m angry with Matt, for putting me in this position, for coming back into my life and thinking he can start right where we left off. I’m angry at myself for allowing him this much access to my feelings and I’m really fucking angry at Damian right now, because I like him, a lot and I don’t want to like him. I want to torture myself with thinking about a life with Matt. I want to see if my dream life will ever happen. I’m used to sitting around pining for that lost life and the fact that I look forward to seeing Damian every morning, that I hope he’ll keep asking me over for dinner and that I want to know everything he refuses to tell me, is derailing the life I always thought I’d live. It’s making me leave the comfort of my lonely existence and question what I’ve been doing the past five years. I’ve loved Matt for so long, why is someone I just met making me question every emotion I’ve ever felt?
“Your wife’s name is Helen?” Reminding him that he’s married, that he’s not free, is the only way I know how to throw ice-cold water on this situation.
He’s silent.
“She’s a person, like me. Another woman you’re leaving behind. I can’t do this Matt.”
“Addison, my marriage was more of a business deal.”
A spiteful laugh leaves my lungs. “And in ten years are you going to say the same things about me?”
“No. In ten years I’m going to say I finally got to marry the love of my life.”
And with those words, my heart constricts a little more. I have no idea if I can trust those words. I wish I knew the present Matt as well as I thought I knew the former one.
Sighing he says, “I’m coming to town next month to explain this in person, and you’re going to hear me out.” He hangs up, not giving me an opportunity to say no.
“You’re home early.” Startled to find I’m not alone, Damian is leaning against our dividing railing grinning at me. I’d cut out of work early for some much needed alone time. That call from Matt really rattled me. I never had a mom. She took off a few months after I was born and