Maybe Matt's Miracle (The Reed Brothers 4)

“You done her yet?” Pete asks.

“Done her?” I repeat.

He makes a crude gesture with his hands. “Done her,” he says again.

“God, no,” I breathe. “I haven’t even kissed her.”

“Wow,” Logan says again.

“Would you stop saying that?” I gripe.

“You want to kiss her,” Pete says.

“I want to do all sorts of things with her,” I admit. “But she’s special.”

“Wow,” Logan says again.

“Cut it out!” I shove his shoulder.

“I remember when I brought Emily home. She slept in my bed for a long time before we ever had sex. It wasn’t about that. It was about those quiet, intimate moments. Those were what mattered. They fed my soul.” Leave it to Logan to hit the nail on the head.

“Yeah,” I say. Like that.

“I wanted to f**k her, too, but not until I knew it was permanent.” His comment is crass, and someone else might find it crude and uncaring, but I find it honest.

“Same here,” Pete tosses out. “That’s how you know the right one. When you would take hearing her voice over getting your rocks off.”

I nod. I don’t know what else to say. Pete shoves my shoulder. “I’m happy for you?”

“Are you asking me?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. I don’t know what to tell you. If she’s the one, you’ll know it.”

“What about April?” Logan asks.

“What about her?” Why would he bring April up now?

“Not too long ago, she was still on your mind. That changed?” Logan asks.

“Yeah. A lot.” I tug the rubber band from my hair and let it fall around my face. I run my fingers through it to buy myself some time. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“That’s the beauty of love,” Pete sings.

“I’m not in love with her,” I challenge.

“Not yet. But there’s a possibility.”

“Yeah.” A lot of possibility. I grin.

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” Logan asks.

I shake my head. “Not anymore. They broke up.”

Logan’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything.

“She gave me the impression that he didn’t like the idea of raising biracial kids.” I wince because I don’t even like saying it out loud.

“How do you feel about that?” Logan asks.

“Kids are kids,” I say. We have been exposed to so many types of people, and with Logan’s disability, we learned early what’s important in life. And now that Pete’s working with disabled kids and kids from the youth detention center, he often brings them home and we’re exposed even more. It doesn’t matter what your outsides look like; it’s your insides that count. “I want them almost as much as I want her,” I admit. “I’d be honored to have a place in their lives. Any place they’ll let me have.”

Logan still looks flummoxed.

“Stop looking at me like I’ve gone apeshit.”

Logan shakes his head. “I’m just surprised,” he admits.

“Me, too.”

Pete claps a hand on my shoulder. “When do we get to meet her again?” he asks.

“Bring her around you guys?” I blow out a breath. “You have to be crazy. You’d scare her away.”

But in all honesty, I wouldn’t want anyone who couldn’t accept my brothers exactly as they are. They’re loud and rude and they fart a lot, but they all have hearts of gold. And they’re mine. “I’ll ask her.” I look around the shop. “Are we done for the day?” I ask.

“We?” Pete protests. “I didn’t see your ass doing tats tonight.” He shrugs into his coat. “I’m going home,” he says. But before he leaves, he looks at me and stalls.

“What?” I ask.

He grins. “I’m just so happy for you,” he says then laughs. “I really am.”

“Shut up,” I grouse.

He leaves, and it’s just me and Logan. He stops speaking and starts signing. She’s the one, huh? he asks.

Maybe, I sign back. I don’t know.

He nods. Good.

Good what?

If anybody deserves a happily ever after, Matt, it’s you.

Shut up, I grouse again. I don’t know what to say to that.

He laughs. I’m going home. You should, too.

I nod and help him lock up. Then he leaves me in the street with a fist bump and a quick I love you sign. I flash it back at him, and he walks away.

I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll to Sky’s number. It’s late, but I want to hear her voice. It’s stupid, I know. But it is what it is.

“Hello,” she says, her voice hesitant.

I lean against the building because my knees wobble when I talk to her. It makes me giddy. “Hi,” I say quietly.

“Hi,” she breathes back.

“Were you asleep?”

“No, I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You,” she admits. My heart starts to beat harder.

“Good thoughts?” I ask.

I can almost hear her smile through the phone. “Very good.”

“I just wanted to say good night.” It sounds stupid aloud.

“I’m glad you called,” she replies. “Really glad.”