Read Online Crushing Crystal by Evan Marshall - Free Book Online

forgotten where I was until the familiar arm draped over my stomach led a trail to Matt’s sleeping face. Though I had no regrets about my night with Matt, I immediately regretted the circumstances. I can usually contain my tears, and decided that I would need to for fear Matt would wake up and press for answers I was not ready to give him. My eyes remained dry and my breathing completely normal, but as I lay beside Matt watching him sleep, I sobbed. Partly because I felt horrible that I was simultaneously lying to the two men I loved most. Partly because I was just plain exhausted. But mostly because I thought that the following morning, this would all be over. I assumed I’d wake up next to Reilly Monday morning and life would go back to normal. A moth in the darkness without flicker of light anywhere. Back to reality.
    â€œHey, Malone,” an adorably sleepy voice interrupted. “What’s on the agenda for you today?”
    I’m being dismissed.
    â€œI’m just going to pick up some T-shirts and hang out on campus for a few hours,” I said casually. “What about you? Anything exciting planned?”
    He stretched his body, yawned and smiled. “Nothing I can’t blow off to hang with you.”
    â€œOkay,” I said too quickly.
    â€œYou know what I’m in the mood for right now?”
    Me?!
    He reached his arm around my waist and pulled me closer toward him. “You. A shower. Then a sandwich at Zingerman’s. Let me see if I remember. Pat and Dick’s Honeymooner. Number twenty-seven. Extra honey mustard, right?”
    I was blown away. Fourteen years and still remembered my sandwich.
    â€œYeah, hey good call.” I turned away so he wouldn’t see me smile.
    Matt and I stopped at Ulrich’s, the campus bookstore and bought Michigan T-shirts and sweatshirts. I picked up a pair of boxer shorts and held them up. “See, I could have just bought you these and we would’ve been even,” I teased.
    He smiled and raised his eyebrows. Then he looked at his watch.
    â€œNot on your life,” I laughed. “It’s broad daylight.”
    â€œLike that’s ever stopped you before,” he said.
    I smiled, a bit embarrassed. Matt was referring to the time we drove to his house while his parents were out of town for the weekend. We had sex about a dozen times in a twenty-four-hour period. Twice in his bed. Once in his parents’ bed. Twice in their shower. Once in the kitchen. Once on the staircase directly under a framed painting of Jesus with a twisted palm beneath it. Three times in the family room. Once more in his bed. Then on the drive back to Ann Arbor, we pulled over in the middle of the afternoon and had hair-pulling drunken sailor sex on the periphery of a cow farm.
    Fourteen years later, we were together again, holding hands as we crossed the street of our old campus. Matt looked at the arch of the West Engineering Building. “I was done for the night we kissed here. Remember that, Malone?”
    Smooth and calm, Malone. You can do this.
    â€œOh yeah,” I faked recalling. “I do remember that.”
    Good girl.
    â€œMalone. Prudence,” he stopped. “This is gonna sound weird, but this weekend, it was like, you know, the best.”
    Go on.
    â€œI’m not usually into fate, but running into you this weekend, I don’t think it was a mistake, you know? I let you go once and this weekend was a wake-up call, like, look you dumb fuck, here’s a second chance, don’t drop the ball man, you know what I’m saying?”
    â€œGod, yes” escaped.
    He put his hands straight into his pockets, which made his shoulders rise toward his ears, creating an impish little boy look. I must take mental photographs for my hot sex scrapbook.
    â€œI guess what I’m trying to say is this.” He paused. “Malone, the first time our timing was off, you know? We were young, we were both headed to