Cliché with a player

Chapter 37 - Matty

Matt's POV

I've never been a girl's first. Fuck, I've never been a girl's anything, but the fact that Laken let me in like that — and I don't mean it just literally. When I say I've never tried in bed as hard as I did yesterday...

Now, when she's sleeping next to me, her soft sleep-breathing blowing her hair out of the way, I can't stop looking at her.

I've seen how insecure she gets and how she hides from the rest of the world, when in fact everyone should see her — I mean, not literally everyone, there is only so far my jealousy can go. She doesn't realise how beautiful she is, inside and out.

I can't begin to describe what I feel for her, because love doesn't seem enough to cover it. It's so much more and everything in between every thing that exists — I would lay the world down in front of her, I would build it for her and tear it apart if she wished.

My heart belongs to her in a way that not many things can even belong.

With the next stroke of my fingers against her hair, she wakes up, yawning and stretching for the life of her. After she's done, she hugs my waist and lays her head on me again. A weird sound escapes her and I think she wants me to continue caressing her head.

"Morning, Darling."

I don't know why she hates the nickname Lake so much, but I backed off with it. Since her brother called her like that, she probably just doesn't want certain things to mix.

"Good morning, Matty."

Hold up. Matty?!

"We're not doing that," I announce immediately.

"We are." Her voice still has that silky tone from sleeping, and she is grinning wildly.

"No, Darling, we aren't."

Laken finally opens her eyes and twists her neck to look at me, as she says, "So it's okay for you to call me Lake for months even after I told you I don't want that, but I can't do the same?" Her tone holds a note of disbelief.

"You go right ahead and call me Lake if you want."

"You are insufferable," she rolls her eyes, dropping her head back on my chest.

"Are you sure about that?" I tease, "You seemed to tolerate me pretty good last night."

I can't help it, sue me.

It's all worth it for the sake of seeing how the blush creeps on her cheeks and she frantically thinks of a comeback.

I lean down to press a kiss to her lips. One of my hands cups the back of her neck and pulls her a bit closer to me. Her lips are hot, her skin is soft, she tastes amazing. It's a subtle kiss, like saying good morning or asking if you need help with something. Our lips blend perfectly together.

"How did you sleep?" she finally finds her words after I pull back. I lean back with a proud smirk that I got to her.

"Like a baby. You?"

The air around us grows heavy with tension. She pushes herself away to her side of the bed. "Fine."

"Hey." I climb lower on the bed so I can look her in the eyes and take her hand in mine. "Talk to me."

The sigh that leaves her body is too much for anyone to bear. Anger coils in my stomach — she shouldn't have to feel this way.

"I slept, I just..." She pauses, searching for words. She does it a lot, disappears in the middle of a conversation like this, because her mind becomes too much. I give her time, we have plenty. "I kept thinking about mom and dad and Andrew."

That's all she'll tell me right now, which I am okay with, but a strange need to protect her borns from the anger.

I've started feeling like that around the time I found her crying in her car in front of the school.

Yes, that fast.

Leaning forward, I kiss her again so she understands I won't push her. The tension disappears when she wraps her arms around my neck, sliding her fingers trough my hair.

Fuck, I love it when she does this.

I roll on my back, pulling Laken after me, positioning her so she can straddle me. After we had sex, she put on my shirt and there is nothing more satisfying than seeing her wrapped in something of mine. Other than my arms — cheesy, I know.

My hands settle on her hips — their favourite place probably — while I'm still not breaking the kiss.

If it would be my way, we wouldn't, ever.

She pulls back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, with her lips a bit swollen and red from making out, and says, "We should head to breakfast, it closes soon."

She is the most gorgeous girl in the world. Especially with my marks on her. I can see a small hickey where her neck and shoulder meet, and I trace it with my thumb and smile.

She looks to the side, trying to see what I'm looking at, and when she can't, she hops off the bed and runs to the bathroom.

A shriek pierces our room. "Matt! You didn't!" I follow behind her, only to find her standing in front of the bathroom mirror, tapping the mark lightly with her fingers, wide eyed.

"Matt," she whines.

"What?" I lift my hands up. I knew what I was doing.

She turns around and folds her arms across her chest, leaning on her left hip a little. "I can't go out like that. I don't want everyone to see what we were doing."

"Conceal it with make up."

"You know very well that all make up I have is mascara, and that's not the point!"

I do know that and it's part of the reason I love her so much. She's just herself.

I step closer, pulling her by the waist against my body. "I'm sorry, I really didn't think much of it last night."

Her anger dissolves into something softer. "It's fine...Just make it less visible next time." With her last words her face turns downward, like she's embarrassed.

I can't suppress my wide smile.

"Next time"?

She punches me. Her palms flatten against my chest, when she tries to push me away, but I don't let her. Instead I lean closer to kiss her on the neck.

"Matt!"

I laugh and then finally let her go.