Intoxicated (33 page)

I bit my lip almost to the point of drawing
blood. The realization was like a sharp blow to my stomach, and a
wave of nausea passed over me. Eric was right; he had been all
along. Guys and girls couldn’t be just friends without one of the
parties wanting more. Only instead of Matthew wanting more, as Eric
had not so subtly implied, it was me. I was the one who got caught
up in the game, who secretly fed off of the jealousy that Matthew’s
innocent actions elicited from my boyfriend.

I liked to feel wanted, and Matthew was able
to give me that, even if it wasn’t in a romantic way. Perversely, I
was getting from him what I had been missing from Eric all along.
In the short weeks that we had known each other, Matthew had filled
that role that had been vacant for as long as I could remember. He
was my shoulder to cry on, my rock when I needed strength. He was
my stand-in when Eric couldn’t or wouldn’t show up to do his
rightful job and I had been all too willing to use him and attach
undeserved meaning to it.

“Lauren?” Matthew’s voice interrupted my
reverie. From his tone and the look of concern on his face, I
gathered it wasn’t the first time he had said my name.

I jumped to attention, hoping that the smile
I plastered on my features seemed genuine enough. “Sorry, I guess I
was off in my own little world.”

“Yeah, I’d say,” Blake grinned. “You guys are
up. Last two presents of the day.”

I consulted the Christmas tree to make sure.
Her inventory of the situation was correct. My present to Matthew
and the large box that contained my gift from him were the only
ones remaining to be given at this particular celebration. The rest
of the gifts under the tree I would be taking to Indianapolis with
me shortly to be opened at my father’s house tomorrow.

Blake passed out our presents; of course the
one for Matthew was decidedly heavier than the one she handed to
me. I already knew that from my sneak peek this morning. I set the
massive box on my lap, toying with the red ribbon instead of
ripping into the wrapping paper. Oddly enough, Matthew didn’t dive
into his, either. Blake looked at us, confusion lighting her
features, then threw up her hands in frustration. “What are you two
waiting for?”

We both said approximately the same thing at
about the same time: “I wanted to watch him/her open it.”

She snorted. “What am I going to do with the
two of you? Open them at the same time. The suspense is killing
me.”

We did as instructed, neither one of us eager
to disappoint the self-promoted mistress of ceremonies. Truth be
told, the methodical tearing open of my gift did help to occupy my
mind a little and keep me from focusing on what his reaction would
be to what I had chosen. I was still nervous that he wouldn’t like
it, especially after the present that Blake had gotten him appeared
to knock one out of the ballpark, whatever it was.

It was no surprise that when I removed the
top of the box all I saw was a sea of packing peanuts. I glanced up
at Matthew to see if he was looking at me, but he was focused
extricating his own present. I reached down into the Styrofoam and
wiggled my hand around, finally touching the corner of an envelope.
I fished it out of the box, sending a flurry of peanuts to the
carpet. The envelope was a bright green and not written on, but
still sealed. I slid my finger in the small gap at the top to open
it.

Inside was a card, very similar to the one
that had been left by Blake on my desk at work. I wondered if they
had pooled their resources and gotten one small box of greeting
cards. The humor in this thought made me smile at first, then
saddened me as I realized that if they did so it was only because
of their lack of people to share the holiday with. I opened the
card, a folded piece of paper fluttering to the floor as I did
so.

My breath hitched as I read the
inscription.

To Lauren,

Your acceptance means more than you will ever
know. Thank you for being the most radiant light in a world that
has been dark for far too long.

I love you, too.

Matthew

I read the short message over and over,
until, once again, I felt that all eyes were on me. When I looked
up, I saw that Matthew had clearly stopped unwrapping his present
from me to watch for my reaction. My lips parted a couple different
times, but no sound came out. His sentiment had left me speechless.
Though I knew it was directly related to the night at his house
when I had been attempting to convince him to join us for
Thanksgiving, I had been utterly unprepared for it. Hell, I hadn’t
even meant to say it to him, but it had popped out against my
better judgment. And here it was again, coming back at me from the
person who had vowed he didn’t deserve that affection from me. No
matter how it was intended, the gravity of the moment was huge.

He had freely told me he loved me. Written it
down, even, so that I couldn’t pretend I had misunderstood him.
This had been done intentionally, for posterity; it couldn’t be
taken back. It had been wrapped up and given to me, had sat in my
home unbeknownst to me. Now that I had seen it, there were no
do-overs. He couldn’t rip the card from my hands and brainwash me
into thinking I had imagined it; the image would be forever burned
into my memory. He had given me a piece of his heart.

He had given me what I wanted most from Eric
but had never gotten.

“By the way, the card is not your present,”
he said softly. “This is.”

While I had been quietly freaking out, he had
set down his own still unopened gift and crossed over to where I
sat. In his hand he held the paper that had fallen out of the
envelope. He held it out to me, on bended knee, his eyes firmly
locked with mine. The Christmas tree behind him illuminated the
scene, and if I scrunched my eyes closed far enough, this whole
thing took on a far different meaning.

It was best not to go there, not to think
that way.

My lips still unable to form words, I nodded
dumbly and took the paper from him. My fingers trembled as I
unfolded the page. I calmed slightly once I realized that the sheet
appeared to be a poster of some sort printed off the computer. For
a moment, I had been expecting even more shocking revelations – a
lengthy letter, a poem, I wasn’t sure what. I blinked to clear the
panic-induced cloudiness from my vision and met those beautiful
eyes yet again. Matthew smiled at me encouragingly, and I turned
back to the mystery he had represented as my gift.

It was, in fact, a poster of sorts, the kind
that smaller clubs and bars prepare to advertise a coming event to
their venue. I scanned the information quickly and gathered that
Parabelle would be playing an upcoming show in Indianapolis. The
bar was a place I had never heard of but I was at least familiar
enough with the area. The show was on a Friday night in
February.

“We’re going?” I whispered.

“I promised you we would, right?” was his
response.

I was instantly transported back to that
night in November and all of the emotional ups and downs I had felt
then. I relived them all tenfold as he continued on about his plans
for the evening. He noted that with February weather being so
unpredictable we likely wouldn’t get to take the Mustang like I’d
said I wanted to. He talked about how we would have just enough
time to grab something quick to eat after work and then head down
to Indy for the show. He seemed just as excited about the adventure
as I did, perhaps even more so.

“Thank you,” I interrupted him, realizing
that Blake remained in the room with us. I wondered what she made
of all this; her expression was unreadable. Fortunately, she didn’t
look upset. I doubted that she knew how he had signed my card and I
wasn’t about to mention it.

“You’re welcome,” he said, understanding my
silent cue.

“Now open yours,” I urged, “I don’t think I
can stand to wait any longer.”

“Okay,” he said as he rose to his feet and
gave me a quick hug. “We’ll talk later.”

I nodded again, slowly getting my wits about
me with each passing moment. I stashed the poster back into the
card and set it as close to me as possible for safekeeping. Until I
could store this gift away somewhere private, I wasn’t about to let
it out of my sight.

Matthew returned to his spot by the tree and
picked up his present. As he slowly unwrapped it, I felt that
familiar twinge of uncertainty as I wondered if my gift would be as
well received. The waiting was excruciating, and as he pulled the
final traces of paper off I let out the breath I hadn’t known I’d
been holding.

“Oh wow,” he said softly, “this is awesome.
Thank you, gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What is it?” Blake asked with interest.
Obviously at some point Matthew had told her what my gift was, but
I hadn’t spilled the beans on his. Either that, or she couldn’t
care less about what her brother had gotten me. I doubted that was
true. She scooted closer to him to get a better look.

Back when Matthew had given me a tour of his
home, I had noticed several pieces of hockey memorabilia scattered
about. Based on that, I had gathered that he was quite the Red
Wings fan. Of course, his conversations with me never touched upon
that subject. I assumed that he saved that kind of talk for his
evenings out with Chris. So I had gone out on a limb and purchased
a large framed panoramic photograph of the interior of Joe Louis
Arena. The print itself was pretty cool, even for a non-hockey
lover.

“Nice,” Blake said. Her inflection implied
that she was appreciative of the artwork, not the subject
matter.

“Yes, it is,” he confirmed. “Now I need to
figure out where to put it. Maybe over the fireplace?” He turned to
Blake, giving her a pointed look that suggested he was asking her
for her professional opinion.

She shrugged playfully. “I thought you only
wanted gift cards from me. I figured my services are no longer
desired.”

“Every once in a while would be fine. Like
now.”

“I thought so. We’ll figure it out tomorrow,
I’m sure.”

“Or tonight?” Matthew asked, “We could always
move the party back to my place.”

“No way,” Blake said, elbowing him, “You
convinced me to stay at your place last night. Tonight, the
sleepover’s on my turf. Besides, you haven’t decorated for the
holiday.”

“You didn’t either,” Matthew grinned, “your
roommate did.”

“I guess you have a point.”

As their conversation turned to their typical
sibling banter, I took the opportunity to slip upstairs with my
gifts. A smile lit my face as I shut the door on their good natured
ribbing. They would be together on Christmas morning just like
almost every other year. I hadn’t considered a sleepover; I
wondered if that idea had sprouted after I’d expressed the
possibility of heading down to Indy early. Knowing Blake, if I
decided to stay here until morning, she’d shelve the option. After
the past month or so, I couldn’t fathom her allowing Matthew and me
to spend the entire night together, chaperoned or not.

I tucked Matthew’s card into my sock drawer,
buried underneath the tightly balled up cotton pairs. Part of me
considered taking it with me to show to Gracie, but I knew how
dangerous that would be. Even a picture snapped on my cell would be
subject to discovery by Eric. There was no need to add fuel to that
fire. I would just have to settle for attempting to have a private
moment with her during all of the chaos. I knew how easily she
would jump to the improbable conclusion that he was declaring his
most intimate feelings, not just a token of friendship. I had to
admit that I was looking forward to hearing her wild ideas. It was
flattering to think that someone like myself could be caught up in
a love triangle, no matter how far-fetched.

I set to work packing a small overnight bag
with the essentials for my road trip. A pair of jeans and a sweater
would suffice for my father’s house; he wasn’t overly traditional.
My new train case from Blake also made the cut, along with my
shampoo and conditioner. I had pajamas and a toothbrush at Eric’s
as well as a small hairdryer that did a good enough job. Just the
basics at his place, nothing more. With me being there so little it
was hardly practical to have my entire arsenal duplicated at the
condo. Still, he had seemed appeased by the fact that I had left
some belongings there. Before I exited my room, I grabbed an empty
fabric shopping bag for the gifts I was bringing.

My descent down the stairs with the bags
clearly announced my intentions. Both Blake and Matthew watched as
I filled the empty bag with the remainder of the unopened
presents.

“Leaving so soon?” Blake asked with a hint of
surprise.

I nodded. “I figure the damage here is done.
If I get too comfortable here, I’ll probably end up in a food coma
and miss Christmas in Indy all together. As it is, I probably won’t
get to Eric’s before it gets dark.”

Blake crossed the room to give me yet another
hug. “Thanks again for everything. And drive safely.”

“You’re welcome. And I will.”

I squeezed her tightly before letting go. A
moment of awkward silence passed as her brother and I debated on
our send off. He hovered a few feet away, as unsure as I was of
what to do next.

“I’ll help you to your car,” Matthew
volunteered. He lifted both bags easily and I followed him
empty-handed out to the kitchen. I collected my purse and coat from
their position at the table and fell into step behind him yet
again.

Once the garage door had been secured tightly
behind us and we were safely out of Blake’s earshot, I swallowed
hard and attempted to summon my courage. There were so many things
that I wanted to say, that I wanted to ask him that I was afraid
they would all come out in an incomprehensible heap. Instead of
going for the most pressing question on my mind I chose instead to
ask the one I figured I had the most chance of getting an answer
to.