Chapter 6
Chewing my lip absently, my eyes scanned over the email response I’d just typed up for a client. Soft ambient music was playing from my laptop as I sat with my legs crossed underneath me on my couch. Eventually satisfied with the email I'd written, I hit the send button before pulling up Lightroom and loading an engagement session that I needed to finish editing this week.
As the files began to upload, I slid my glasses from my face, rubbing the heel of my hand over my strained and tired eyes. I had awoken early this morning at just before six. Unable to fall back asleep as thoughts raced through my mind, I had decided to just jump straight to work. I’d been staring at my laptop for a few hours already and my eyes were killing me.
My phone began to vibrate loudly from beside my laptop as I slid my glasses back on. I leaned over towards my coffee table, grabbing my phone and expecting it to be a client calling. I grinned wide when I saw Matt’s name on the screen instead.
It had been a few days since Matt had stayed the night here after my housewarming party. We’d fallen asleep wrapped in each other's arms and woken up to briefly cuddle–the entire thing still seeming surreal–before I needed to get ready for a wedding later that morning. I’d finished the wedding close to midnight that night, getting done with the job and finding he’d sent me a few cute text messages throughout the day to let me know he’d been thinking about me. The following day on Sunday I’d had an engagement party I was photographing in the evening. That same night he called me when I got home and we talked for over an hour while I was downloading the photos from the event and making dinner. Unfortunately yesterday I hadn’t heard much from him; Matt had been busy in court most of the day before working late on another case with Foggy afterwards so we hadn't really spoken.
But seeing his name pop up on my phone so early this morning was a welcome sight.
“Good morning, Matty,” I greeted as I answered.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he responded, the hint of a smile in his tone.
I bit my lip at the unexpected term of endearment, warmth blooming in my chest. “To–to what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning call?” I stuttered out.
“It’s been too long since I last heard your voice,” he answered me, all charm. “I missed it. And,” he added, my stomach twisting pleasantly at his words, “I was wondering if you’d care to join me at Mad Goat for a few hours this morning? If you don’t have a shoot?” he asked hopefully. “I don’t really need to go into the office to work on things today and I…I’ve missed working with you beside me over coffee,” he admitted.
I smiled as my eyes slid over to my laptop. The program was just finishing uploading the images I needed to work on as we spoke. There really was no reason why I couldn’t work on them while sipping coffee and chatting with Matt like we used to do.
“I have another engagement shoot at three-thirty this afternoon I need to get a few things together for,” I told him, my eyes darting to the time in the corner of my screen. It was just after nine. “But I’d love to spend a few hours working next to you,” I told him. “Just like old times.”
“I know we haven’t really defined whatever this is, or mentioned anything to our friends, but do I get to hold your hand if I want? Kiss you?” he asked curiously, uncertainty in his tone. “Is that…is that alright?”
I grinned, a sudden giddiness flooding me. “If you want to,” I answered him, chewing my thumbnail nervously.
“Then it’s better than old times,” he corrected me. “Because back then all I could do was imagine it, but now I actually have permission to act on it.”
“You’re a sweet talker, Murdock,” I teased him. “You know that?”
“Only for you, sweetheart,” he murmured back.
My heart swelled in my chest as my eyes glanced back at the program on my laptop. It had finished uploading the photos.
“Meet you at the coffee shop in twenty minutes?” I asked him.
“I’ll be there waiting for you,” he promised me. “Honey lavender oat milk latte with light ice?”
The fact that he remembered my coffee order despite the fact that it had been close to a year since the last time we’d gone knocked the air from my lungs. How much had he noticed about me through the years? How blind to everything had I really been? How had I not seen what was right in front of me after all of this time?
“Em?” Matt asked when I didn’t answer.
“Yeah, sorry,” I breathed out. “I just…can’t believe you remember my coffee order.”
“Of course I do,” he told me. “It was your go-to coffee whenever it was warm out. You always ordered it in the summer.”
“And you still ordered hot coffee even on a hot day," I recounted with a smile. "Because you never ordered anything iced; you always said it waters your coffee down and makes it taste weird."
“See, you–you remember,” he said, sounding a little breathless himself. “I’ll uh, see you in twenty?”
“Looking forward to it,” I told him.
The moment I pulled open the door to Mad Goat I was hit with the fresh smell of coffee and a rush of nostalgia. I stepped inside, my eyes scanning to our usual booth in the far back corner. Matt was sitting right there in the same booth we’d spent so many days together in. I stood there a moment, slowly smiling as I took in the sight of him with his dark glasses on, his attention focused on sliding his fingers along a paper as he read. There was a laptop closed on the table next to a stack of papers beside him along with two coffees. I adjusted the strap of my brown leather backpack, my heart fluttering in my chest with a lightness that almost made me dizzy. His hand stopped abruptly on the paper, his head rising from the table and turning in my direction. I bit my lip and made my way towards him wondering how it seemed as if he always knew when I showed up.
“Hey, Matty,” I greeted softly as I approached the little corner booth. “Did you miss me?”
A wide smile broke across his face, his white teeth flashing at me. He raised a hand up and removed his glasses, his sightless gaze falling near my shoulder.
“I did, actually,” he admitted.
He slid further into the booth to make room for me. One of his hands searched along the table until it came in contact with the iced coffee before he gently slid it towards me.
“Thank you,” I said, slipping the bag from my back before sitting down beside him. “Next round is on me, though.”
“Maybe I want to buy you a second cup,” Matt pointed out. “I do get paid in actual money now, Ms. Diehl.”
I chuckled as I set my backpack into my lap, unzipping it and sliding my laptop out. “I happen to recall Foggy mentioning the other night that someone paid you guys in rhubarb pie recently,” I said.
Matt grinned, ducking his head as he nodded. “Okay, so I do get paid in actual money and the occasional rhubarb pie.”
Placing the laptop onto the table, I got comfortable in the booth beside him. “I get the next round of coffee, Murdock. Only fair. Pretty sure I owe you more than the forty-seven dollars and thirty-two cents I gave you years ago.”
“The time spent with you all these years more than made up for that,” he whispered.
My hands hesitated on my laptop, my head turning over my shoulder towards him; the sight of him had me momentarily stop breathing. He was looking at me with an earnest expression on his face that had my palms beginning to moisten.
“You don’t need to sweet talk me, Matty,” I murmured. “You already have my interest.”
The corner of his mouth curved into a smirk as he gazed back at me. “It’s not sweet talking if it’s the truth,” he countered gently.
I felt a flush creep up my cheeks as I finished opening my laptop, trying to quietly exhale a shaky breath so he wouldn’t hear it. I swallowed hard as I waited for my laptop to turn on, beginning to dig through my bag for my glasses case and cordless mouse.
“So what’re you working on this morning?” he asked curiously, his tone shifting back to casual.
I slid my glasses onto my face, clearing my throat and trying to recover from the effect he’d just had on me. “Engagement session,” I answered, turning on the mouse. “I need it done by the end of the week but I’m hoping to knock it out this morning. You?”
“Prepping for a deposition tomorrow,” he told me, his attention returning to the papers before him.
“Mmm, lawyer stuff,” I mused, loading Lightroom up on my laptop. “Does not sound fun at all. I much prefer what I’m doing.”
He chuckled beside me as I reached for my coffee; and then his warm hand landed on my right thigh, just above my knee. The coffee cup paused just before my lips, my body freezing at the contact. My stomach lightly flipped in a strange excitement–definitely not something another guy had made me feel before from a single touch.
“This is alright with you, right?” he asked, leaning towards me as he lightly squeezed my leg.
“Yeah,” I breathed out.
I took a drink of my coffee, ignoring the slight tremor in my hand as I set it back down on the table. I pulled open the folder in Lightroom that I had been about to work on this morning before he called me, but admittedly my attention was very much still focused on his hand on my leg. A small, depraved part of me suddenly wondered what it would feel like if he slid it further up despite how much of a very public setting we were in. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him reading again, his right hand running along the pages before him. I’d have thought he was oblivious to the effect he was having on me right now if I couldn’t see the permanent grin on his face.
My attention returned to my laptop, setting up a batch process for the images in the folder as I wondered how in the hell Matt Murdock had suddenly kickstarted my sex drive–the one that had been stalled for months because of my grief and depression.
Pushing those thoughts away, I minimized the tab for Lightroom while it worked before I pulled my email back up, groaning when I saw another email from a wedding planner I didn’t particularly enjoy working with.
“Hmm?” Matt hummed beside me.
“Nothing,” I grumbled. “Just an email from someone who I swear plots my demise at every wedding we work together.”
Matt snickered beside me, his hand falling away from his papers as he turned a bit towards me in the booth. “Okay, now I need to hear more.”
I huffed loudly as my eyes scanned the email. “It’s this wedding planner–Angelica Van Buren.” I rolled my eyes at how even her name was as haughty as she was. “I try to be friendly and professional with her, I swear. But she’s so infuriating. Treats every other vendor like the hired help–which like, okay, I am hired to help–but she insists I lug my shit through the servant’s entrances for every wedding we work together instead of using the front door like a normal person.” I held up a hand roughly. “And don’t even get me started on how I feel about it being called a servant’s entrance, by the way. Which she loves to call it any chance she gets.” I sighed, shaking my head as I skimmed her email. “Anyway. She basically butchered my timeline for this weekend. Which wasn’t unexpected. Now I’ll have like five minutes to scarf down the sad little paper bag meal I’ll be fed for the fourteen hours I’ll be working Saturday.” I picked up my coffee, taking another sip. “I miss courthouse elopement’s in Hell’s Kitchen sometimes,” I mumbled.
Matt laughed immediately. “Frank and Jodi?” he recalled.
My eyes went wide as I remembered the pair of bikers. “Oh my God, they were a riot!” I gushed. “Who knew sixty-something year old bikers could be hilarious and romantic?”
“Didn’t they gift each other handguns?” he asked curiously. “And they wanted you to photograph it?”
I sighed gently, smiling at the memory. “Yeah,” I answered him. “Yeah, they did. It was weird and wonderful. That’s the shit I love about this job. Not–” my hand waved at the irritating email from Angelica, “–this stuff.” I paused, glaring at the email for a moment as Matt’s hand squeezed my thigh again. “You know, shortly after I moved out of Hell’s Kitchen I photographed a wedding where the bride’s father told me he spent a quarter of a million on the whole day.” I caught the slight jaw drop on Matt’s face as his eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, gross right? Way too much for a wedding. Anyway, this bride had a list of pictures she wanted–none of them of her with her new husband. She wanted me to photograph her engagement ring and her three wedding bands–and I still to this day wonder why you need so many rings on one finger?” I shook my head before continuing, “Even her little dog that was there she cared more about. Hell, when I went back to edit everything later, I had more photos of the seven foot tiered cake she wouldn’t stop gushing about the baker it came from than photos of her and her husband.”
“Was it any good at least?” he asked. "The cake?"
“You know, that happened to be one of the few weddings I actually got to try the cake at since taking on more…uh, highend clients,” I told him. “Probably because there was a seven foot cake to feed fifty people. But no–the actual cake was dry as a bone. I cringe at what her father must’ve spent on it.”
“I don’t want to know,” he said, pulling a face.
“Anyway, my point being–I miss the weddings like Frank and Jodi,” I admitted. “It was an unexpected, weirdly sweet rollercoaster of an afternoon with them. Whereas the people I sometimes photograph now?” I sighed, shaking my head. “By the time I finished editing the bride with the seven foot cake's photos and reached out to her to deliver them, she told me they were already divorcing each other. Together for ten years and then divorced after six weeks of marriage.”
“He probably got tired of her talking about the damn cake,” Matt joked.
I grinned, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Or asking for another ring,” I joked back, earning a chuckle from Matt.
I focused back on my photos, deciding to respond to the email later today. I pulled the editing program back up and began marking the images I’d keep for the couple, beginning the culling process of the photos in the folder.
“That’s one thing I can’t stand about the weddings for these ‘high class people’,” I continued with a roll of my eyes, my attention fixed on my laptop. “Not all of them are like that, but a disturbing majority of them are getting married like it’s a social event and they’re going to plan another in a few years’ time. The ones where it’s just a show of wealth make me sick all day to work. Or, ugh, I get the few where the groom is literally trashing his soon-to-be-wife to his groomsmen while I’m photographing them getting ready–even worse if they’re discussing the details of what they really shouldn’t have been doing at the bachelor parties.” I cringed at a particular memory. “I love me a wedding where the vows make me teary eyed when they read them to each other,” I rambled on. “Or when the groom first sees his bride at the end of the aisle and he literally weeps like a baby in front of all of their friends and family–which is my favorite shot at any wedding.” My fingers worked almost mechanically as I continued through the cute engagement session on my laptop, my eyes focused on the screen. “And when they can’t keep their hands off of each other all day,” I continued. “The sweet forehead kisses during the first dance. Or when–”
Matt’s hand darted out, startling me when he captured my chin in his fingers in a firm grip. He carefully pulled my face away from my laptop and towards him. My breath caught in my throat. He was smiling wide as he leaned in towards me, his eyes dropping down to my lips right before he abruptly connected his mouth to mine. I was caught off guard, too shocked to respond right away, but then his fingers let go of my chin as his hand slid up, his warm palm cupping my cheek. I melted into him in the booth, my chest brushing against his. My mouth responded to his the moment my brain restarted. I kissed him back eagerly, my hand flying down under the table to the one he had squeezing my thigh and I gripped it tight, holding onto it like a lifeline.
He tasted like the drip coffee he was drinking and I was once again dumbfounded that I was sitting in our coffeeshop with his mouth on mine. After a moment his lips pulled back, but I leaned back into him, connecting our lips once, twice more. It was almost impossible to stop kissing him. Matt’s hand on my cheek had to pull me back as he lightly chuckled, his lips planting a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“What–what was that about?” I asked him in shock, trying to recover.
He grinned wide back at me, my eyes lowering to focus on his soft lips again. I really wanted to keep kissing them.
“We’ve come here a lot over the two years we’ve been friends,” he told me, “and I’ve listened many times as you rambled on about the bits of wedding photography you were passionate about–a sweet couple you worked with, some funny story from a wedding you just photographed, an emotional toast a sibling gave, or you describing the emotion in some image you were editing and were yourself getting emotional over.” His grin grew into a smile, his eyes creasing as he looked back at me. “And every time I ever heard you gush about any of those, all I have ever wanted to do was just grab you and kiss you. Because it’s cute as hell and your love of other people’s love is sweet to hear. And I just…couldn’t help myself,” he admitted. “You’re adorable.”
Something warm rushed through my veins and I grabbed his face in both of my hands, drawing his mouth back towards mine. I could feel him smiling against my mouth as he kissed me back, the stubble of his face pleasantly scratching my skin.
“What?” I asked, lips moving against his mouth.
“We’re in a busy coffee shop,” he pointed out, grinning as he pulled back, brushing his forehead against mine. “And even though I’m blind I can tell we’re being stared at.”
“Am I embarrassing you, Matthew Murdock?” I questioned him coyly.
“No,” he whispered back, his mouth briefly connecting with mine again to prove his point. “But we should probably refrain from a public make out session.”
I pouted, leaning back in the booth. We were, in fact, being stared at. I blushed faintly even as I whispered back, “But I enjoy kissing you.”
The hand he had on my thigh slid an inch up my leg and I straightened. “And I enjoy kissing you, Em,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping over the fabric of my jeans. “But we won’t get any work done if we keep doing…that.”
I sighed, my eyes shifting from Matt’s handsome face to my laptop screen. “You have a point,” I grumbled out. “I do need to get this done.”
I picked up my iced coffee, drinking down a good amount of it as I focused back on my work. We fell into a comfortable silence for the next thirty some minutes; Matt reading his papers beside me with a look of intense focus on his face as I continued to work through the engagement session. His hand remained on my thigh, occasionally his thumb would begin to absently rub soothing circles along my leg or his hand would gently massage the muscle underneath it. Each time his hand moved my heart gave a little jolt, a small smile spreading over my lips.
As I was finishing culling the photos, Matt leaned over towards me. My eyes were still focused on the laptop screen but I felt his lips press a kiss to my shoulder, just over the top of my tee-shirt. I bit my lip, my attention turning towards him with a faint questioning hum.
“I missed this,” he confessed. “Sitting here working alongside you, drinking coffee.”
“I did too, Matty,” I admitted. “It feels like the world is right again.”
“It does,” he agreed softly.
My eyes darted to our empty coffee cups before I turned back towards him. “You still have more work to do?” I asked him.
“Yeah, a few emails to work up and notes to check,” he answered. I began sliding out of the booth but Matt’s hand quickly held on tight to my leg. “Where are you going?”
“I told you, Murdock,” I said, gingerly removing his hand from my thigh. “Second round of coffee is on me.”
“You’re not going to give up on this, are you?” he asked.
“Mmm, no,” I told him, rising to my feet. “Same drink?”
The corner of his lip turned up as he nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Em.”
“No problem, Matty. I’ll be right back.”
I made my way over to the register, ordering both of us another drink and paying. As I slid over to the counter, waiting for the barista to make our drinks, my eyes returned back to Matt in the back of the shop. He was huddled over his laptop again, one hand dragging through his hair with his elbow on the table in deep concentration. The fingers on his other hand traced over the braille reader hooked up to his laptop. I watched him for a few minutes wondering how in the hell someone so sweet and caring had walked into my life and also managed to want me back. It still didn't feel real.
The barista broke me out of my trance a few minutes later and I accepted the cups from him with a smile. I made my way back towards Matt, my heart skittering in my chest when he recognized my footsteps and glanced up towards me.
"Need to recaffeinate?" I asked, holding his cup out towards him.
His hand reached out and I slipped the drink into it before plopping back into the booth beside him. I took a sip of coffee before setting it onto the table, my attention returning to the almost two hundred final edits I was making slight tweaks on. Matt's hand returned to my leg and I couldn't keep the smile from my mouth as I continued working.
"What time is it?" he asked after a little bit.
My eyes darted to the corner of my screen, reading the time. "It's about a quarter to eleven," I told him.
"And what time do you need to get back for your shoot?"
I chewed my lip in thought. The shoot was at three-thirty and it would take me probably a half an hour to get home from here with traffic and then I needed to gather my camera equipment and meet the couple at a park a couple blocks from my place. I'd probably need at least an hour to make sure I wasn't late.
"Probably by two-thirty at the latest?" I answered him, turning my attention to him beside me. "Why, what's up?"
He leaned his right arm onto the table, turning a bit more towards me. He looked nervous as he looked back at me and my eyes scanned him curiously.
"Can I…take you to lunch?" he asked, his eyebrows rising onto his forehead.
"Not tired of me yet?" I shot back.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, definitely not. But would that be…okay? Something you'd like to do?"
"Yeah, Matt, of course," I assured him.
A smile broke across his face and he reached across the booth towards me, encircling his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into his muscular chest. A small squeal of surprise left me at the sudden gesture. He wrapped me in a warm embrace, placing a barrage of kisses to my temple as I giggled.
"What's that all about?" I asked him between laughter.
"Just happy," he told me, holding me in a hug with his arms still wrapped around my shoulders. "How does brunch sound?"
"Matt," I said, abruptly serious as I turned the best I could to look up at him, "you know damn well I love me a good eggs benedict."
He placed a kiss on my cheek before releasing me and I straightened up in the booth, adjusting my blouse.
"There's supposed to be a good place just across the street," he told me. "You want to finish up here and head over in a half hour?"
"Sounds like a plan," I told him. "I'm almost done here. You?"
His attention shifted back to his laptop and his braille reader. "Just an email I'm finishing responding to, but I can keep you company while you finish. I know you wanted to get that done this morning and I don't want to be the reason you don't."
"Ever so considerate," I mused, my attention returning to my work. "I'm mostly just doing small edits now. Then I just need to export the final images."
We fell into another comfortable silence for a little while, Matt typing away on his keyboard and finishing his email while I continued downing my coffee and editing images. After a bit I heard Matt packing his things up beside me.
"Just finishing up," I told him. "About to export the images now."
"We should do this more often," Matt suggested, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
"It's definitely more enjoyable editing with company than sitting alone in my apartment," I agreed.
I bit my lip, contemplating saying something more as I glanced over at Matt while the program on my laptop finished up. It wasn't a surprise when he somehow picked up on my hesitation–he always knew.
"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked, resting his chin in his hand as he leant on the table, his sightless gaze fixed on me.
His eyes had focused on my chest as he spoke, a smirk spreading on his lips a moment later as if he could sense the way my body reacted to the way he called me ‘sweetheart’.
"I was just thinking that maybe we should do this…at one of our places next time," I answered slowly, my eyes sliding back to the laptop as a sudden shyness overtook me again at how blunt I was about to be. "So we can make out without an audience," I finished, voice lowering as I spoke.
He shifted beside me, his thigh suddenly bumping up beside mine. A flash of it bare in the dark before he slipped into my bed the other night ran through my mind and I felt my body warm. He threw an arm over my shoulder, leaning in to kiss my cheek. And then his mouth lingered beside my ear.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning along my neck.
I swallowed hard, definitely feeling an increase in body temperature now. My eyes were still on my screen, taking a moment to realize the program had finished.
"My uh–my engagement session is finished," I breathed out, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.
I didn't want to rush things with Matt, and I was still trying to figure my own shit out, but when he did things like this I was quickly finding that I was having a hard time not turning around and straddling him in the middle of the coffee shop and shoving his hands up my shirt and mine down his pants. The mental image of doing just that briefly flashed through my mind and my thighs involuntarily tightened against each other.
Matt cleared his throat, removing his arm from around me. When I turned to look at him he appeared to be struggling a little himself. His cheeks were flushed and the muscles in his jaw were working. My brows furrowed, unsure of how he'd switched so abruptly from cocky to flustered. I opened my mouth to speak but he managed to cut me off before I could.
"Why don't we go grab lunch then?" he suggested quickly, voice sounding strained.
"Sure, just need to pack up my things," I told him.
I turned off my laptop and removed my glasses, returning both items to my bag before zipping it up. Matt remained silent the entire time; my mind still closely focused on how his thigh was still pressed to mine.
"All good, you ready to go?" I asked, confused by his strange silence.
Matt nodded, a tight smile forming on his face. I slid out of the booth and he followed after me. As I swung my backpack onto my back, he slid his dark glasses back on and unfolded his cane. I reached out and gently grabbed his wrist, guiding it to the crook of my elbow as usual before leading us out of the coffee shop.
The heat of the midday sun was sweltering as we stepped outside. Matt thankfully seemed to have recovered from whatever had just happened inside, now appearing significantly more relaxed as he held on to me.
"So where is this place?" I asked him, my eyes scanning across the street.
"It's just around the corner on the block across from here," he told me.
"West fifty-first?" I clarified, my eyes darting towards the street.
"Yeah," he answered. "It's where Nat's used to be?"
"Oh!" I said, recognition dawning on me. I immediately started leading us both towards the crosswalk at the end of the block. "Nat's closed? They had good pizza."
"I don't think Nat could afford to keep the doors open anymore," Matt told me.
"That's a shame," I mumbled.
I brought us to a stop at the corner for a moment, scanning the street before stepping out. Matt’s grip tightened against my arm, roughly pulling me back just as a car whipped around the corner. My heart lurched into my throat as I stared wide eyed after the car that had blatantly just run a red light.
"Fucking hell, what a dick!" I called out. I sighed, my attention shifting to Matt beside me who looked startled as well. "Thanks, I don't know how I didn't see that." And then I frowned, my eyes narrowing at him curiously. "Wait, how did you know there was a car coming around the corner?"
"I uh, could hear it," he said quickly, shooting me a tight smile.
I stared at him for a long moment before shaking my head. "Sorry, didn't mean to walk us in front of a car," I apologized, double checking before crossing again.
"Wasn't your fault," he said off-handedly. "So I've never been to this place before but Foggy and Marci apparently love it."
"Well if Marci recommends it then it's good," I assured him.
As we turned the corner, the brunch place came into view immediately. I led us over, helping guide Matt inside as a hostess pleasantly greeted us. She grabbed two menus and led us further inside, seating us in a booth. Matt released his grip on me, sliding into the booth across from me. I frowned looking down at the menu.
“You want me to see if they have one in braille? Or would you like me to read the items off to you?” I asked Matt, my eyes scouring the paper in front of me.
Matt removed his dark glasses from his face, setting them onto the table beside himself. “I’m pretty sure Foggy told me they had a good vegetarian skillet.”
My eyes skimmed the menu, eventually landing on what I assumed he meant. I read it off for him, looking up towards him afterwards.
“Yeah, I’ll probably stick with that,” he answered. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” I told him, my eyes scanning the section of eggs benedict options. “Restaurants really need to be less ableist with their menus,” I muttered.
It was just a minute before a movement beside our table caught my attention. I straightenedup, my attention turning to the waitress who’d arrived–and then frowned immediately. She had pen to paper in her hand, her eyes focused solely on Matt as if I wasn’t even present. She was clearly biting her lip and blushing.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked, clearly trying to pitch her voice to sound alluring and sultry.
I rolled my eyes and focused on the menu on the table. Matt ordered a water before the young waitress grudgingly turned towards me, a scowl on her face as she very obviously eyed me up and down.
I smiled politely, even if it was a tense smile. “Water’s fine,” I told her.
Her attention shifted back to Matt, the warm smile returning to her face. “I’ll be right back,” she told him before walking off, intentionally adding a sway to her hips.
I huffed in annoyance as I placed an elbow on the table, anxiously raking a hand through my hair.
“What?” Matt asked.
My eyes darted up from the menu towards his quizzical expression. I frowned–there was no way he was that oblivious was there?
“Nothing,” I mumbled back.
His eyes slightly narrowed back at me, quietly scrutinizing me. After a moment he opened his mouth to say something, but the pretty blonde waitress returned, making a show of bringing Matt his water.
“Are you ready to order?” she asked him sweetly, leaning a bit towards him, one hand on the back of his side of the booth.
My hand under the table clenched. How could one person be so rude?
“Why don’t you start with the lady?” Matt suggested, his hand gesturing to me across the table.
The waitress grit her teeth, forcing a smile on her face as she turned towards me. I gave her my order before she quickly focused back on Matt, all flirtatious smiles and hair twirling. I was grateful when she finally disappeared a minute later after taking our orders and menus.
“I may be blind but I’m not stupid,” Matt pointed out. “Somethings bothering you.”
“It’s nothing,” I assured him.
“The waitress?” he asked.
I sighed, running a hand across my forehead. “Just the blatant flirting is rude when she could easily surmise you’re here with someone already,” I mumbled, grabbing my water and taking a drink. “Not like I don’t get it, I mean, you walk into a room and a lot of women are staring at you. But just…that is irritating.”
“If it makes you feel better, I could care less about her rude flirting. Though I am bothered by how she’s treating you,” he said. “Not exactly how I wanted a first date to go.”
One of my brows quirked up as I eyed him across the table. “First date?” I asked him curiously.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, unless you’d rather it not be that?”
“I–” My voice caught in my throat; what were we doing kissing in coffee shops and grabbing brunch together if it wasn’t a date? “What are we doing?” I asked abruptly.
His brows creased together, his lips turning down at the corners. “I was hoping you’d enlighten me on that when you were ready.”
“So…this is a date?” I clarified, feeling nervous suddenly.
“I’d like it to be if you would,” he answered. “What do you want it to be, Em?”
I sat in the booth feeling my mind begin to race. The jealousy I felt over the waitress flirting with Matt had me certain I wanted things to be exclusive between us–I didn’t want him seeing anyone else as much as I didn’t want to see anyone else. But I also wasn’t ready for an actual, committed relationship just yet, especially since I didn’t know how that would even look for us. And certainly not while I was trying to recover from whatever I was struggling through.
“Exclusively…casually dating?” I asked him cautiously.
A small grin spread on his mouth. “Please define that for me,” he requested.
“Not seeing other people but…not exactly in a relationship?” I explained timidly. “Just…feeling things out? Seeing where things go?”
“I don’t want to see anyone else anyway, Emily,” he assured me.
“Neither do I,” I answered him quickly, my hands resting along the table.
He gazed back at me for a moment, a soft smile on his face as he did. His eyes were scanning along my face. “So what does that entail? This…exclusive casual dating between us? Going on dates? Kissing?”
“Yes, definitely the kissing,” I answered with a grin. His eyebrows rose on his forehead as his grin spread wider. “And the dates. The dates are a good idea,” I agreed.
“Cuddling?” he asked curiously, both elbows resting on the table as he leaned forward towards me with a look of extreme interest on his face.
I mimicked his body language, leaning towards him as well with a smile. “Yes, definitely cuddling. And hand holding, that’s allowed.”
One of his hands slid across the wooden table, searching for mine. I laughed lightly, placing my hand into his. His hand squeezed mine back.
“Maybe I should ask what’s not included instead?” he asked.
I bit my lip, thinking for a moment. The only thing that truly came to mind besides the actual commitment aspect of a relationship was also one thing I found myself desperately wanting with him. But I was also afraid it might completely complicate whatever was going on between us and push me into an actual relationship too soon. I still had things I needed to finish internally working through.
“Besides the pressure of an actual relationship," I began nervously, "we should…probably refrain from…sex,” I said, my cheeks flushing as I grudgingly admitted that thought aloud. “For now. Until we sort of figure this out. I just don’t want to complicate things. And I–I just want to…get my head on straight,” I mumbled the last bit.
His hand squeezed mine again. “I’m okay with that,” he whispered back. “I can wait for you, Em. However long you want, however long it takes.”
A shiver ran down my spine at his words and the way he was staring at me from across the booth–once again like I was the only one in the room despite the busy restaurant we were sitting in. Slowly he raised my hand towards his mouth, his plump lips placing a lingering, soft kiss to my knuckles that had my heart thundering in my chest and a warmth flooding low inside of me. I was almost immediately regretting taking sex off of the table.
The waitress abruptly appeared beside the table, a loud huff of annoyance coming from her as she saw Matt kissing my hand. I watched a slow smirk carefully spread across Matt’s lips behind my knuckles, his gaze still focused on me. My eyes widened–had he somehow done that on purpose? He couldn't have though, because I hadn't even noticed she was on her way over with our food.
He brushed my knuckles against the smirk on his lips before releasing my hand and sitting back, making space for the waitress to set our plates down. Which she did with a little unnecessary extra force for the both of us before telling us to enjoy our meal in a clipped tone and abruptly leaving.
My eyes remained on Matt as he felt around the table for his silverware, a smirk still on his mouth.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" I asked him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered airily. "You mind passing the hot sauce?"
I stared back at him for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Not buying it, Murdock," I told him, sliding the hot sauce across the table and into his waiting hand.
He grinned, not saying anything more as his attention currently turned to his food. I speared a piece of strawberry off my plate, bringing it to my mouth and chewing thoughtfully as I watched him.