Flying Read online

  “Just with me?”

  He sounded as if he was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else there. Jealousy? Insecurity? Stella pressed her teeth against his flesh, not quite biting, then kissed him before looking into his eyes. “Just with you.”

  It wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t been with another man since meeting him. Couldn’t imagine it, actually. And this thought, that it wasn’t that she hadn’t met anyone but that she’d stopped looking, made Stella sit up.

  “I need a drink of water,” she told him, then kissed him to take away anything sudden or strange about how fast she needed to get away from him in that moment. “And some lunch. Can we order something in?”

  “Of course.” Matthew watched her get up. His hair was endearingly rumpled. He adjusted himself in his jeans, and Stella thought about getting on her knees for him.

  Taking him in her mouth. Giving him what he’d so generously given her. She wanted to make him feel good too. But something stopped her, and it wasn’t selfishness but self-preservation at the moment. She needed to get herself under control.

  Matthew didn’t seem put out. He got to his feet and pulled her close for a brushing kiss, then looked into her eyes. Stella cut her gaze from his, unable to face him with what she knew must be her every emotion all over her face.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, and waited until she looked at him. “You okay?”

  She forced a smile. Fake it till you make it. “Yes. Yep, absolutely. Starving, though. Too much champagne, too early. I’m ready to fall asleep too.”

  He grinned at that, hands sliding down to grip her ass. “I can wake you up.”

  “Feed me first,” she told him, relaxing into his embrace, “and we’ll see what happens next.”

  They decided on sandwiches from the insanely delicious deli around the corner. One problem—their delivery guy was out sick. But Matthew, hunching into a sweatshirt and leather jacket overtop, promised to be back in twenty minutes, and Stella, happy he was willing to go out into the rainy spring chill and even more grateful to have some time alone to compose herself, kissed him at the door.

  “Hurry back,” she said.

  Ten minutes later as she hummed to herself in the kitchen, heating up some water for tea that might chase the chill from her bones, the front door opened.

  Two minutes after that, shit hit the fan.

  “Who’re you?” said the little girl with Matthew’s eyes and a mop of tangled dark hair. “Mom! There’s a lady in Dad’s kitchen.”

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  Caroline looked almost exactly the way she did in the wedding picture Matthew had never deleted off his Connex photo album. Ash-blond with dark roots and dark eyes. Subtle makeup. She wore a sleek pair of capri-length yoga pants and a matching slim-fit hoodie sweatshirt. Perfect soccer mom...except for her expression, which was that of a woman who’d just stepped in an enormous, steaming pile of dog crap.

  “Hi,” Stella said when Caroline simply stared. “I’m Stella. A friend of Matthew’s. You must be Caroline. And you,” she said to the little girl, “must be Beatrice. And Louisa.”

  The older girl standing beside her mother gave Stella a long, careful look. “Where’s my dad?”

  Stella waited for Caroline to say something. Anything. But the other woman only stared with her lip curling.

  “He ran out to get some lunch.” Don’t fidget, Stella told herself, trying desperately to think if she’d buttoned her blouse all the way, if her hair was sex-mussed, if her mouth looked as though she’d been kissing for an hour. If the stink of sex clouded her like perfume.

  “He didn’t tell me he had...company.” Caroline spoke at last. Her gaze swept Stella up and down in that way women have with each other that’s supposed to leave scars.

  Stella gave Caroline the blandest smile she could. Not in front of the kids, she thought. Don’t you dare. “He didn’t mention that you’d be stopping by.”

  Because, of course, Caroline hadn’t called ahead. Because she hadn’t been invited. Because Matthew’s ex-wife felt so comfortable in his new apartment that she could walk right in, Stella thought with another neutral smile designed not to taunt.

  “We were heading to the movies and the girls wanted to see if their father wanted to come along.” Caroline’s chin lifted, just a little bit.

  “Ah.” Stella smiled warmly at the girls, who were still staring at her, though without the suppressed bitterness their mother had. Nope, Louisa and Beatrice were full-on glaring their hostility at her. “I’m sure that would’ve been fun.”

  “We only want him,” Beatrice said. “Not you.”

  Stella’s smile didn’t waver. Behind her, the teakettle hissed, and she turned to take it off the heat and turn off the burner. She pulled open the cupboard and found a mug, then a second she held up toward Caroline, who blanched, then shook her head. With another small smile, Stella put the rejected offer on the counter and found the teabags. She poured hot water into her mug, too aware of the weight of three sets of angry female eyes on her back as she did. Finally she turned around, mug in her hands. She leaned against the counter.

  “He should be back soon,” she said. “You’re welcome to wait.”

  Caroline’s eyes said it all. Of course she was welcome to wait in her ex-husband’s kitchen, and she didn’t need permission either. Stella sipped the hot tea, risking a burned tongue rather than an embittered one.

  “Hey, I bring you food—” Matthew stopped in the doorway, brown paper bags held high. “Caroline?”

  The girls ran squealing to him, and he put the food down to hug them. Over the tops of their heads, he caught Stella’s gaze. She couldn’t read his expression, but she took another sip of tea before putting the mug in the sink.

  “Excuse me, I need to check my email.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it aloft. Without another word of apology or explanation, because fuck that, she pushed past Matthew and went down the hall into his bedroom.

  Ten minutes later, he came in to find her propped on the bed playing an intense round of Diamond Dash. “Just a minute,” she said mildly. “Let me beat this level.”

  “Stella...”

  She let the time run out and tucked her phone back into her pocket to give him a look. Matthew ran a hand over his head, then rubbed at his mouth. He came closer and sat on the bed, but didn’t touch her.

  “The girls...” he began, and trailed off.

  Stella raised both eyebrows. When he didn’t say anything else, she drew her knees to her chest and linked her fingers together. “You’re not going to the movies with them.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Are you?” Stella shook her head, stunned. She was halfway off the bed before Matthew grabbed her wrist.

  “No! Stella, sit down. Please.”

  She did, but gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “She walks into your house like she owns it. Or at the very least, like she lives here. And she had no idea I was here. Or that there was even a...me. Which, okay, fine, you don’t want to rub it in her face or something, but, Jesus, Matthew. You might want to fucking give her a clue that you’re dating. Or that you’re not available on the weekends when I’m here. Something. She walked into that kitchen and looked like I’d stabbed her in the throat.”

  Stella paused, frowning, then said softer, “And your kids, Matthew. That’s not the way I would’ve liked to be introduced to them either.”

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. Or chastened. He sounded defensive, which made Stella sigh.

  “You haven’t told her you’re dating?”

  He made a low noise. “I’m not dating.”

  “No. I guess you’re not. You’re just fucking me every few weeks.” She yanked her wrist from his grasp, but his arms were longer, a