41. Ciaran

41

CIARAN

A s we changed out of our wetsuits and into regular clothes back at the cars parked on the other side of the Pacific Coast Highway, Joan and Filipe decided to go to Santa Monica for cotton candy at the Pier. I wasn't sure if cotton candy was code for something else but decided it was best not to ask as Joan pecked me on the lips before smacking my ass.

"One of these days I'm going to do that back to you," I hollered at her over the steady engine thrum of passing cars as she skipped down the sidewalk.

"Try it," she yelled back, "and see what happens."

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," Filipe said as he gave me a fist bump. "You'll end up in a decade-long relationship with Joan as one of her pets."

I blinked at Filipe.

Matty threw his good arm around my shoulder to stop me from responding. "Let it go," Matty voiced like a wise sage. "Just let it go."

With Joan behind the wheel, I watched their car screech out of a tight parking spot, cross over four lanes of highway, and zip off in the opposite direction. Hollywood needed her for a Fast & Furious spinoff film.

"You really can't define them, can you?" I asked after the little purple car vanished from view, though I could still hear the roar of the race car's muffler in the distance.

Matty chuckled. "They are the literal definition of the undefined."

"You realize those words makes no logical sense, right?"

"Stop trying to make sense out of the senseless…like your wardrobe." He took in my worn-to-death attire, which consisted of nondescript shorts, a plain T-shirt, and beat-up sneakers.

"Tell me how you really feel, Mr. Moneybags," I uttered as we jumped into his SUV.

"If I did that, I'd have to drag you into the back seat and show you." He waggled his eyebrows at me and I snorted at how ridiculous he looked. "We happen to have a few hours to kill before Zoey shows up for dinner tonight. Malibu Country Mart is right around the corner." When I said, "I'm not hungry," Matty laughed for half a minute. "It's not a farmer's market, Ciaran. It's a shopping center. There's a nice men's clothing store with outfits that I think will look good on you."

"Admit it," I said with a grin, "you're ashamed to be seen with me."

"No, what I'm saying is that you have an empty closet and one pair of shoes."

"Two pairs."

He scoffed. "You say that like it contradicts my statement." Matty started driving, not even waiting for me to answer yes or no. "Once our parents return from their honeymoon, we'll be expected to join them for evening meals and social events. I'm not saying you'll need to dress up like you're going to the Oscars—we'll bring in a designer for that—but owning several nice pieces will go a long way toward looking polished, yet effortlessly cool at the same time."

"Are you saying we will be invited to the Oscars?"

"Of course," he answered as if I'd asked a silly question. "Dad finances a lot of films. But that's besides the point."

I let the Oscars comment go. I had to remind myself that Mom and I now lived in a higher sphere than before. The Vaulteneaus and their social equals owned multimillion dollar homes, drove exotic cars, and wore expensive clothes. They went to the Oscars and famous events the same way normal people went to the grocery store.

"I don't know," I said. "Seems like a lot of work to go shopping right now. I can just order stuff online."

Matty merely shook his head as he turned right at the next red light. "Ciaran, please let me do this for you, okay?"

"Fine," I grumbled out. I wasn't used to anyone taking me under their wing like this.

My embarrassment was due to the fact that I was secretly pleased. It wasn't because I would receive a new wardrobe…I liked the idea of Matty doting on me.

Matty parked in the open parking lot and led me to the store mentioned.

When inside, I marveled over all the framed photos on the dark-paneled walls. They were portraits of well-known personas, actors, singers, and famous bands. Racks of clothing and headless mannequins were stationed next to comfy couches and chairs.

The manager must have recognized Matty because we were greeted like family. As Matty discussed the reason for our visit, I browsed the racks and nearly fainted when I saw the price tags. T-shirts alone were close to two hundred dollars. It would only go up from there.

I spied the action of others. No one was looking at the tags. Rich people do not look at price tags, Ciaran. Matty was no exception as he pulled multiple pieces from various racks.

Start acting rich, Ciaran Galbraith, or everyone in here will know you don't belong.

Matty shoved a pile of clothes in my arms and directed me to one of the changing rooms.

After two exhausting hours of trying on dozens of outfits, I walked away with enough clothing to fit in at upscale restaurants, attend casual get-togethers, and perform random errands in very expensive clothing. Shoes and accessories made the list, too.

The goal, apparently, was to wear high-end attire that resembled low-end fashion.

"It can't seem like you're trying too hard," Matty explained to me.

I was scared to see the final bill, but Matty took care of everything since he had an active account with the store.

As we left, Matty whispered, "You looked so fucking hot in your new clothes."

My face flamed red. It was then I noticed a small group of men across the walkway taking pictures of us. I was about to nudge Matty, but the men started yelling his name loudly.

Matty groaned under his breath.

"Don't look," Matty said behind his hand. "Paparazzi show up sometimes to see who might be shopping. It isn't uncommon for celebrities to shop here."

"Having a nice day, Matthias?" one asked in a gravelly tone. "You and your friends have fun out on the waves?"

"Were they watching us earlier today, while we surfed?" I asked Matty in a hushed voice.

"Probably." We picked up our stride as the SUV came into view. "Don't look up," Matty advised. "While you get in the car, I'll say a few words to the paps. We have a somewhat copacetic rapport. It isn't fun, but you have to feed the beast from time to time to keep it happy."

After loading the bags in the back, I slipped into the passenger side while Matty answered the paparazzo's questions at the driver's side. It wasn't anything salacious. They asked about his dad's new marriage and wanted to know where Zoey was. One of them even asked how his swimming training was going and if he was nervous about the upcoming tryouts.

Matty's answers were short, to the point, but also polite. It was clear to me he didn't want to be talking to them—anyone could detect it—but he did it anyway. I wondered if that was normal in their line of business. Would I have to get smart on interacting with the media and paparazzi soon?

Overall, the encounter lasted three or four minutes. For such a short event, they still took over a hundred photos based on the continuous camera clicks I heard.

Matty offered a gracious farewell before jumping in the SUV and igniting the engine. He waved one last time before exiting the parking lot onto the highway.

"Well, that was a new experience," I quipped. "I thought photo day at school was terrible, but that was something else."

"Unfortunately, it comes with the territory. I wish I could say it won't happen again, but it will. Try not to focus on it. You'll be identified as a "friend" who went shopping with Matthias Vaulteneau."

My head snapped up. "My image will end up in the tabloids?"

Matty gave me an apologetic frown. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"No, no. You misunderstand me," I said with a laugh. "My friends are going to have a field day. I can't wait to tell them. The memes will be epic, you just wait."

With that, Matty's shoulders relaxed and I saw a smile tease on his lips.

"So…" Matty started after a few minutes of silence while I fired off a series of texts about the paparazzi photos in my group chat with Raj, Rowen, Kinzy, and Brieana. "When we get home, do you want dibs on the shower?"

I looked up, confused.

We were close to the Vaulteneau gate when Matty asked it. His right arm was draped over the center console with his hand resting on my left thigh. It was less sexual and more casual, affectionate, as if we did this sort of thing all the time.

When I looked at him questioningly, he explained, "To wash off the sunscreen and sticky saltwater residue." He gave me a wide smile. "You'd easily get mistaken for Casper the Friendly Ghost given all the zinc oxide on your face."

I hadn't been thinking about showers but after Matty's question, I was instantly transported to the day I walked into the pool's locker room and found a gloriously naked Matty toweling off. Everything about him ignited my blood—his physique, his sexy grin, his beautiful cock.

All the fantasies running circles in the background of my imagination meant I'd been in a near-constant state of arousal for days. The anticipation was a form of slow-burn agony.

The shower is big enough for both of us. Why not take a shower together?

I thought about suggesting it but reconsidered. Within two nanoseconds we'd violate my "above-the-waist-only" touches. There was no way I could be that close to Matty, with both of us naked, and not touch him. My willpower would evaporate should he want to consume me. I'd go over the edge within a minute.

It also made me remember something else I'd forgotten about entirely. Matty brought someone home the night of the bonfire. He possessed the passionate scratches on his lower back to prove it.

That wasn't that long ago.

Insecurity crawled up my spine and I squashed it as best as I could. What if I couldn't please Matty? What if I was terrible at sex? I couldn't lie to myself…. I was jealous of whomever he was with that night. It wasn't right to think that because we weren't dating when it happened.

"It's not that difficult of a question, Ciaran," Matty joked. "Do you want to jump in the shower first?" He squeezed my thigh. "Damn, you're tense all of a sudden." He glanced at me. Worry marred his dark eyes. "What's going through your mind right now? Cold feet about the plan? It's not too late for me text Zoey to call off the whole thing."

"No, it's a good plan." Zoey had agreed to meet Matty tonight for dinner in the main house. Davies would take care of transporting Zoey to the estate while Franky was already making arrangements for the Vaulteneau head chef to arrive early to prepare an intimate three-course meal. "You can have the shower first. You have to get ready for tonight."

"Yeah, I'm not buying that as the source of your anxiety." The gate slid open as the SUV swung into the driveway and Matty carefully navigated into the spiral ramp that led to the basement garage. He pulled into his normal spot next to the Ferrari and cut the engine. "Was it the paparazzi?"

"No."

"Do I need to dare you to answer me?"

I rolled my eyes. "You and your dares," I said with a light laugh. I didn't want to start a relationship by hiding things from him, so I said, "I was going to suggest we jump in the shower together."

Matty narrowed his eyes at me as he came around to my side of the SUV as I climbed out. Could he tell was I was omitting a few things? Probably.

"Give me a little credit, Ciaran." He pinned me to the side of the car as he playfully nipped at my lips with tiny kisses. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I arched up into him. The little growl he made at the back of his throat did dangerous things to me. "The joint shower thought entered my mind hours ago while we were slathering on said sunscreen. I knew I wouldn't be able to behave, and you're not ready for that level of intimacy, so I didn't even want to joke about it lest you think I was pressuring you."

I was momentarily speechless. "Thank you, Matty. It may not seem obvious, but that was sweet of you."

He arched an eyebrow at that. "If you knew all the filthy things I plan to do to you when you're ready, Ciaran, you might want to consider retracting the word ‘sweet' from your vocabulary."

Fuck .

"I, uh—" I cleared my throat. "I see a lot of cold showers in my future, Matty."

"That's been my life ever since you arrived."

Instinctively, I muttered, "I'm sorry."

We grabbed the shopping bags and surfboards from the back of the SUV and made our way to the staircase. When we reached the guesthouse and stored the surfboards, Matty turned to ask, "You didn't do anything wrong, Ciaran. Why are you apologizing?"

I had to stop and think about that. What my memories returned were my confusing interactions with Drew. Stomach roiling with guilt, I felt the warmth of shame spread across my face.

"I—" I started but couldn't finish.

I saw when realization dawned in Matty's eyes. The sudden dark look that transformed his face alarmed me.

He was silent for a heartbeat before he pulled me into a tight embrace and whispered savagely, "Whatever happened was not your fault, Ciaran." He let out a very long breath. The erratic beat of his heart thumped against my own. "I am going to kill whoever made you feel the way you're feeling right now."

I rapidly blinked back the sting in the back of my eyes. I wasn't prepared for how those words would affect me. I clung to Matty for dear life.

"Thank you." My voice was unsteady. "Just…thank you."