Before the Knock

Alice’s POV

“This is my home, mi casa es tu casa!” I said as I opened the door to my small apartment.

After we left the party, Matt insisted on coming with me. He even threatened to sleep on the doormat if I didn’t let him in—and swore there was nothing he wanted more than to sit on the couch and watch a bad movie with me.

Matt took in the bedsit with one glance. Luckily, I hadn’t left it a complete mess—I managed to tidy up a little before heading out (read: stuffed all my clothes into the closet).

He smiled sheepishly when his eyes lingered on the bed a second longer than necessary, then turned to me.

“So, this is where the magic happens?”

“The magic?” I echoed.

“Yes,” he said, teasing. “Everything mesmerizing about you was cooked up in here day by day. Isn’t that magic? I guess it makes you a witch.”

“I’d have no objection to being a witch right now. I’d start with my swollen feet,” I replied, gesturing toward my now-purple toes. I wasn’t used to wearing heels—I even ditched my regular ones at work whenever possible. But these heels? They were sky-high. Gorgeous, yes. But pure evil.

Matt dropped himself onto the couch with a puff and tapped the space beside him, inviting me over. I hesitated. He noticed.

“Are you planning to stand all night? I don’t bite, Alice.”

After a beat longer, I gave in and sat beside him. He leaned down and caught my ankle.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Shh. Hand over those monstrous things. I give a mean foot massage—I learned it in Bali.”

I laughed when he called my feet monstrous things. They were actually quite small—but right now? He had a point.

“No way I’m giving you my foot.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t have a foot fetish. This is purely friendly support,” he said, already pulling my foot into his lap and starting to rub. I wanted to protest, but the first stroke nearly made me moan out loud. After a night of torture, my feet begged me not to ruin this divine intervention. So I stayed quiet and let it happen.

“So!” Matt said cheerfully. “Tell me—how was it being my brother’s plus one?”

He hit a particularly sore spot on my foot, and I barely managed not to close my eyes.

“Can we not?” I muttered. “I’m not feeling any better about tonight than my feet are.”

“Alright. I just don’t want you to feel bad. You can always count on me, you know?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t so sure I could count on him—not after Hawaii. Maybe he wasn’t the one who kissed me and disappeared, but he wasn’t any better. He never called the next day.

Matt read the silence as he continued massaging.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I’m sorry, Matt. I know you’re not a bad person. It’s just… I’ve never really been in this kind of situation. I don’t know how to tell if someone is being sincere.”

A different kind of gleam sparked in his eyes. His fingers moved slower now, more deliberately.

“What do you mean? You’ve had a boyfriend before… right?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. Great. I was blushing again.

Matt’s hands paused. He looked me straight in the eye.

“Alice? You have had a boyfriend, haven’t you?”

I finally managed to speak.

“No. I didn’t have time.”

“I can’t believe that. How does a girl like you stay single? What’s wrong with the guys out there?”

I yanked my feet out of his lap.

“I don’t need anyone to fill space in my life. I’m perfectly happy on my own, thank you very much.”

Matt raised his hands in surrender, eyes dropping to my feet.

“Okay, fine—I lied. I do have a thing for feet,” he smirked.

I punched his shoulder.

“Ow! Easy, devil. Who knew someone so petite could have such massive hands and feet?”

I punched him again, but this time, I smiled.

“That’s better,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Our eyes locked. Before I knew it, I was caught in the pull of his forest-colored gaze. He leaned in. His breath brushed my skin.

“You know, Alice,” he whispered, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

His face drew closer. My gaze dropped to his lips.

“Like what?” I whispered back. Saying it louder would break the spell.

“Like I’ve never fallen for anyone before,” he breathed—and then his lips closed over mine.

I lost all thought.

His lips were soft, teasing. He nibbled my lower lip, then my upper, before dipping his tongue inside. One hand slid up my arm, the other wrapped behind my neck, pulling me onto his lap. I was straddling him now. He pressed me into his arousal with one hand, the other roaming—cupping, holding, tugging.

I broke the kiss, gasping. His scent—musk and iris—filled my nose again.

But something was wrong.

The scent. The taste. It wasn’t right.

It wasn’t the sandalwood and spice I craved.

I pushed back.

“Matt, please stop.”

“Why?” he asked, breathless. “Are you scared? Don’t worry—I’d never hurt you.”

“No. That’s not it.” I shook my head. “I just… don’t want to go further. Not now.”

Reluctantly, he let me go.

“Maybe you should go,” I said.

“Don’t send me away, Alice. I promise I’ll behave. Just let me stay a little longer.” His eyes were puppy-sad.

I hesitated. He looked like he might cry.

“Okay,” I said. “But only if you behave.”

He made an X over his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

I went to the kitchen, popped some popcorn. When I came back, he was calmly sitting on the sofa. I sat beside him again and grabbed the remote.

“So,” he said, “what horrifying movie are we watching tonight?”

“I thought When Harry Met Sally.”

“Horrifyingly good!” he said with a grin. I giggled and started the movie.

Half an hour later, we were sprawled across the couch. My feet on his lap again. His hands rubbing. Conversation flowing like it used to.

We talked about everything. His childhood, his exes, his diving trips. He asked questions. He listened. It felt… easy. Almost dangerously normal.

Eventually, he coaxed my head onto his thigh and began to run his fingers through my hair.

“You beautiful creature,” he murmured. “What have you done to me?”

I didn’t answer.

My eyelids were too heavy.

And before long… I was asleep.

Until I heard a bold knock on the door.

And somehow… even before I opened my eyes…

I knew who it was.