I’ve always been a nut for musicals, probably because I’m a hopeless romantic. As a teen, I thought one of the most swoonworthy numbers from a problematic fave was South Pacific’s “Some Enchanted Evening.” What a setup:
“Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger / You may see a stranger across a crowded room….”
Gawky teen me mooned over the idea—but I was frequently reminded by the realists of the world that locking eyes with my future soul mate at a party wasn’t exactly a likely thing.
Those people had never met Matt*.
I don’t remember what the party was for. I don’t even remember who I was talking to when I first saw him. But as soon as I caught sight of his sage-green eyes, impressive biceps, and kissable jaw through the crowd, I knew my heart—and my downstairs brain—had found a new obsession.
I worked my way over to him and introduced myself. I came, I saw, I flirted. But Matt was a hard read. He was funny, friendly—playful, even—but he didn’t seem to volley back.
Damn.
But that wasn’t the last I saw of him. Turned out we ran in similar circles, and we bumped into each other again at another gathering. I’d steal glances at him through breaks in the crowd every chance I got, throwing out little tidbits of flirtation every now and then to see if he’d bite—a lingering look here, a touch for emphasis on the forearm there. He never rose to the occasion, but he also didn’t seem to pull away either.
Matt was a party crush and a puzzle, all wrapped into one. And I sure do love a good mystery.
Third time was the charm—as far as making social media contact, anyway. A group of us all exchanged Instagram handles to keep up with each other, and now I could deep-dive his account to my heart’s content. Everything seemed charming about him: his taste in music, his love of cooking—and his complete lack of a girlfriend on the grid. I noticed he checked on my Stories from time to time as the summer went on, so I tried to put together a perfect mix of thirst traps, premium meme content, and fun life updates.
Still, he didn’t bite. Double damn.
As summer began to wind down, I started to let my party crush go and move on—until one day when I updated my Story with the unassuming announcement that I was heading off on my first solo trip to Europe in two days, complete with a pic of my packed luggage.
Suddenly, for the first time in weeks, Matt messaged me:
“Hey! You leave on Tuesday, right? I know it’s last minute, but wanna grab a drink on Monday night before you leave the continent, seeing as you’re already packed?”
Hmm, lemme think about that: YES-YES-YES-CHRIST-ON-A-CRACKER-YES.
Come Monday, I was tucked away in the booth of an elegant cocktail bar, wearing a dress I hoped would look hot but not trying-too-hard hot. He seemed to be running late, so I nervously downed a hefeweizen while I waited. Then half of another.
I was about to give up and leave when Matt came gliding through the front door, wearing a tight-fitting flannel I could have sworn was made of 100 percent boyfriend material. He gave me a smile that immediately eviscerated any resentment I could’ve possibly harbored over his lateness.
He slid into the booth and gave my cheek a quick kiss before waving down the waiter to get a glass of whiskey neat. I turned my head hoping he couldn’t see me blushing at the sudden contact and the scent of his cologne.
“I guess you’ll be having a lot of that, though, where you’re going,” he said as his green eyes landed back on me.
“Whiskey? Yeah,” I replied. “Can’t wait to go explore Scotland.”
His drink arrived. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have all the time in the world.”
My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “In five days? I mean, I can throw back, but five days isn’t a lot.”
Matt stopped sipping. “What do you mean, five days? I thought you were moving there.”
“What?!”
He blinked. “That’s—I thought that’s what the luggage picture was for.”
“I’m just going on vacation for a few weeks! I’ll be back. Did you not see the other Stories?”
“I guess I missed some context,” he admitted. “Some important context, it seems.”
I laughed. “Well, we’re here now. If it helps, we can act like it’s my last day in America.”
Matt resumed drinking. “Deal.”
I necked the last of my beer and ordered another. As the booze got some footing in my system, we got to talking—far more deeply than we’d ever gotten to do at those parties. The whiskey was having an effect on him too—his movements got looser and a strand of hair kept falling over his eyes. It took all my strength not to push it back from his forehead.
Matt’s eyes got a playful glint. “Y’know, since this is your last night here and all…I have a confession to make.”
I dared to lean in a little closer. “You weren’t caught in traffic?”
He leaned toward me. “Okay, two confessions. I actually live within walking distance of here, but I kept debating which shirt to wear. That’s why I was running so late.”
Fuck it—I reached out and touched the cuff of his sleeve. “Well, I do like this one.”
He smiled. “Thank you. But the real confession is, um…I’ve had a bit of a crush on you. I didn’t want you to leave without me telling you.”
My heart leapt. “You have?! I…but at the parties you didn’t really resp—”
“I get really shy about that kind of thing in public situations,” he interrupted, then leaned in even closer. “Trust me, I’ve wanted to do something about it ever since that first night we met. I’m not too late, am I?”
His gaze was so intense I had to look down at the table. I smiled. “No. I’m just—it’s the nicest surprise. Because I’ve got a crush on you too.”
“Wow.” Matt ran a finger over my knuckles. “God, I’m so attracted to you. Can I kiss your cheek?”
I smiled harder. “You may.”
I felt his lips meet my skin and kiss a tender trail down my face, then he tipped my chin up and met my mouth with his own. The sounds of the world fell away, and all I could hear was the pulse of my own blood in my ears. He was as good of a kisser as I had hoped—and then some.
We pawed at each other for a few more minutes before I came up for air. Now or never, kid.
“Didn’t you mention your place was within walking distance?”
The stroll in the evening air had a cool touch to it, but it wasn’t enough to chill the chemistry crackling between us as we walked. We took several pit stops to hold hands, kiss, and explore each other’s bodies like teenagers.
Matt mentioned we were about a block away from his place, then promptly pinned me up against a lamppost and kissed me so hard, it nearly took my breath away. Then he resumed strolling down the sidewalk, almost like nothing had happened.
“Jesus, Matt,” I breathed. “You really can’t tease me like that.”
He looked back, and something changed in his demeanor. The shift was infinitesimal but distinct. Like his whole body language now said no more games.
He walked back to me and gently grabbed my hand. “C’mon. I wanna show you something.”
Intrigued, I followed.
We turned a corner and walked past an elementary school. Beyond the school was a public park, lush and green and abandoned.
Matt had that look on his face again. Firmly but kindly, he brought his hands down to my hips, pushing at them until my back hit the chain-link fence of the school playground.
“I don’t want to wait until we get back to mine,” he growled. “I want you here. Now.”
His lips found mine again—insistent this time, not fucking around, ready to find out. My body got hotter and hotter as his hands roved over my frame. He ran one down my dress and back up my leg, finding where my thighs met. I moaned in reply to his touch. If I wasn’t wet before, this was going to get me there.
My eyes darted around as he nuzzled my neck—was there anyone nearby? The school wouldn’t have security cameras on this spot, would it? The chain-link fence rang out as he pushed his body against mine again, his fingers finding my clit and making the most delicious circles. I stifled a cry of pleasure, half terrified we’d be found out and half getting off on the fact that I was having public sex for the first time.
“Matt,” I whispered, finally kissing that oh-so-kissable jaw. “Oh, fuck, Matt, you feel so good.”
He moved with confidence down to his knees. Quickly ducking his head under my skirt, he threw one of my legs up over his shoulder, gently pulled my panties to the side, and got to work.
That man’s tongue was magical. He sucked and licked and hummed and petted like it was a job he loved so much he’d never even think of retirement. My pussy was Matt’s plaything, sensations rolling one over the other, the familiar tension building and building until I couldn’t hold back my orgasm any longer. I came so hard, I gripped at the chain-link fence to keep from collapsing onto the dry leaves on the ground.
Matt came back up from under my dress, kissing his way up my body. He brought his mouth to my ear, gently tugging at my earlobe before uttering,“How’s that for being a tease?”
We laughed. I thanked him for his hard work and offered to return the favor, but he insisted he was good—he was more into giving than receiving. (No wonder I had a crush on the guy.)
I did need to get home to my luggage and fly in a few hours, so we exchanged numbers and made out while I waited for my ride share.
“Hey,” Matt called just before I ducked into the car. “Have a great time in Europe.”
“I will,” I promised.
And I did—I had an incredible time. But even the wonders of the Old World couldn’t help but pale in comparison to certain memories I had of a moonlit park, a chain-link fence, and Matt’s world-class tongue game.
*Name has been changed.
