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“Watch this.”
Matt shows the inside of her hat to Jay, who looks at her skeptically from where he's seated at the piano bench. She puts it on her head, and then fucks up her sleight of hand and her magic trick because the item she was gonna pull out of the hat falls straight to the ground.
Jay blinks.
Matt smiles. “Magic?”
“Wow, Matt!”
She gestures at the handcuffs on the floor and pulls another pair from inside her blazer. “You like ‘em? I've got four total.”
“Four?”
“They had a ‘Buy 2 Get 2 Free’ offer.”
“Why did you have to buy two?”
“To get two free. Keep up. Okay.” She uncaps the whiteboard marker with a smile. “Two words: Something Wild.”
Turning his head back towards the piano, Jay starts to play a speedy tune as she writes notes down on the whiteboard.
“Hmm. No, that’s not it.”
“What isn’t?”
“The music. More romantic.”
He slows it down.
“Come on. This is depressing. Anguishing.”
“It's hard to mix something romantic with something wild.”
“No, capitalized!” She pokes the words with the marker. “Something. Wild.”
“Oh.”
“The movie.”
“I don’t know it.”
“Well, it's an 80s classic. 1986. You were alive, Bird.”
“I was three.”
“So! The plot: boring businessman meets crazy hot girl.” She clears her throat and prepares some impressions. “‘Hey, handsome, want a ride downtown?’ He goes, ‘uh… uh… yeah…’ Whoops! She handcuffs him.”
“Oh no.”
“Takes him on a road trip. They have sex while he's handcuffed. They steal stuff everywhere. But! Oh, shit. Her ex-convict ex-husband shows up.”
“Uh oh.”
“Uh oh indeed. He's Ray Liotta, by the way. ‘Hey, baby, come back to me.’ Boring dude speaks: ‘She doesn’t belong to you anymore!’ Ray pulls out a gun. ‘Oh, yeah, how about now, bitch?’”
Jay seems unamused by the finger gun she’s pushing against his ribs and the grip she has on the back of his jacket. She shakes him a little. Then paces back towards the whiteboard.
“So we—step one—get in disguises and—two—go to the Rivoli. I become this chick and convince them I’ve got the most amazing story about myself and the handcuffed gentleman to my right—”
“Wait.”
“—who just so happens to be an amazing piano player. We go on stage, perform this story.”
“You won’t handcuff me.”
“Uh, yes, I will.”
“No.”
“Bird, you can’t not be handcuffed. It’s the plot of the movie.”
“No one knows the movie anyways.”
“Maybe you don't, but I guess you’ve lived under a rock all your life.”
“They’re gonna think I'm a criminal!”
“They won’t! Birdie, it’ll be awesome. You don't have to do anything. You can still play the piano.”
“How am I gonna play the piano if I’m wearing handcuffs?”
“Think how impressive it'll be to see you do that.”
Jay wants to protest, but he thinks about it. Matt bites back a grin. He’s so easy to crack. She does get a little thrill every single time she sees it click in his head, the slight change in his eyes when he gives in to even the worst of her plans (which are all very good, anyways.) She jingles the handcuffs like keys when one wants a cat to play with them. Come on, Jaybird. Play.
He says, “no. I don’t want to, Matt.”
She has to laugh. “Well, it's the plan, so.”
“No.”
“Bird.”
“No handcuffs.”
“But no handcuffs is no plan.”
“Make the plan work with no handcuffs.”
“Make the–? Ha. The plan is the handcuffs.”
“I'm just saying—”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I'm just saying…” and he pauses, like he didn't expect to be able to say this sentence and has yet to figure out how to end it, “that– No. I have a right. To say no.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ. You can’t just screw the whole plan over! This is today's plan and we're gonna do it. Otherwise I'd have to think of a new movie. And I already bought the handcuffs. Four! Four pairs, Bird!”
“Fine, then, go think of something else,” he says, like it's nothing, throwing a petty shrug of his shoulder before fully redirecting himself to the piano. His new tune is anything but what she asked for.
Let Jay remember the events however he wants, but, just to be clear, Matt isn’t that angry. She just uses her full volition to take one, two, three silent steps towards him, and lunges to try and put the handcuffs on him. That's all. They thrash around and Jay complains when she puts him in a weak headlock. He shoves his hands between his legs and this blocks them from her reach.
Fine. She lets go and stands up. Jay fixes his position on his seat. Matt stares at his hands between his legs and then the length of his legs and his feet on the floor and. Aha.
Matt crouches and immediately cuffs Jay's right ankle to the closest foot of the piano bench.
“Matt!”
“If you want a different plan, you’re gonna have to sit there until I think of another one.”
“You cannot keep me tied to a bench!”
“Oh, yeah, Bird? Why not? What's stopping me?”
“Because you just don’t do that! To someone! And you're gonna take so long to come up with a new plan!”
“We'll just have to see how much you last.”
“Let me go.”
“No. I need thinking-of-a-plan music. Play it.”
Jay doesn’t give up hope yet, because he whips his head towards the camera where it's being held, near the window.
“Jared,” he pleads.
“Jared,” she warns.
Jared blinks.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Bird, no. Jared, don't move.”
“At least stop recording.”
“Jared, if you stop recording, I won’t pay you.”
“You don't pay me,” mutters Jared rather unhelpfully.
“I– Yes, I do!”
“You haven't paid me in two months.”
“Do you wanna make it three?”
Jared looks straight through her, then lifts the camera over his shoulder again.
Matt punches the air in celebration and points her marker back at Jay. He pouts. Nonetheless, he does as she says. No way out. For good measure, she picks up the handcuffs that are still on the floor and cuffs his left ankle to the bench as well, not without an exhibit from the Bird Noises Catalogue; it's not a groan but not a whimper either. A half-hearted “hmmph” of resignation. She shushes him and gets back to talking to herself in front of the whiteboard.
She sort of loses track of time when she lets her mind wander, and the handcuffs situation has Jay particularly quiet, but he keeps scoring her obediently.
Eventually, she grants them both a pause. Any other plan she can compare to this one doesn't live up to it, and Jay's unhappy to hear they all continue to include handcuffs. She presses the cap back onto the marker and drops herself to sit on the couch. She sends Jared home early (though he's not going too far, and they could call him up again later.) They exchange comments about today’s material, but between Jay’s pettiness and their failed brainstorming, Matt doesn’t think it’s gonna be very useful for anything at all.
From his currently inescapable place at the piano, Jay tries to stand up a little too fast. He stumbles forward onto the instrument, holding himself upright against it and accidentally slamming his elbow against a bunch of keys. Not even that sounds dissonant, Matt notes. She huffs through her nose. Jay remains in place, still leaning over and looking at himself and then at Matt with wide eyes and a redness tainting his face, and his legs still forcibly spread and a slight arch in his back and his entire neck exposed and… hmm.
As he stands up properly, he clears his throat, bringing Matt’s thoughts back down from where they were still stuck on the “his neck” part. He glares at his predicament, as if he could free himself with an intense enough stare from his sad eyes. Then he gives her a frown.
“What?”
“Well, we finished,” he mutters.
“For now, yeah.”
“Okay, so.”
“What?”
“Untie me!”
“Oh, but I don’t have a plan yet,” she says, as obviously as she can. Slaps her forehead, fakes a wince, the whole schtick.
“Matty, come on. This freaks me out.” He tacks on that last part more quietly.
“Uhuh.”
“It's not funny.”
“No, I'm serious. I'm very serious.” She reaches for the remote control and decides she's gonna play some Wii. As she sets everything up, she makes a point of continuing to scold Jay: “See? Now you know plans take me a while. It's not so easy. Since you want to sit around doing nothing but wait for a new plan, that’s what you can do.”
Jay's still blushing. Something in Matt can't move on from that. That and his neck.
“Now you get to have your only responsibility be to look pretty,” she says, mostly under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
Bird Noise exhibit B: a somehow high-pitched cough. He seems not to have liked that sentence. Or has he gone redder…? Counterhypothesis to be proven: has he really not liked that sentence?
“Can you just pass me a controller?”
Unable to use his hands to help himself, Jay struggles to mildly change the position of the bench so as not to play from such a crooked angle. Matt guides him at first, then discourages him over the scraping noise he keeps making. They're at it on Mario Kart for some time, but Matt's head is somewhere else the entire time. She keeps glancing back at Jay, her breath hitching every time he shakes his legs in excitement and she can hear the handcuffs jam against the wood. She can't get over it. And Jay's gameplay isn’t particularly sharp either.
“Aren't I nice,” she teases an hour later, placing a paper plate carrying a slice of microwaved pizza on the piano.
Jay grabs it carefully, clicking his tongue. “You're gonna stain the wood.”
Matt shrugs and takes a bite of her own slice. It's too oily for her taste. “Hey.”
“Don't talk with your mouth full.”
“I was thinking,” and she pauses to chew as loudly as possible, “think I'm gonna go to bed early tonight.”
Jay swallows his food without any comment.
“So how many pillows do you want?”
“Oh my God, I can't even go to bed?”
Matt wipes her hands on her jeans and then makes her way to Jay's room, from which she grabs two pillows and a blanket. Holding it as a single bundle in her hands, she can tell it smells characteristically Jay, but there’s a little bit of something else she presumes to be her. She takes a look around. She obviously doesn’t spend much time here, though she’s been in Jay's room a million times more than he's been in hers. Oh, come on, she teases each time, is it weird just ‘cause it's a girl's room? He rolls his eyes, it's not like that, whatever.
“Matt.”
So the pillows go on the piano. She presses them so they're softer. “You should take off your jacket. Can't sleep in that.”
“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? Maybe we can work on the plan—”
“Tomorrow. Take off your jacket.”
It’s the usual routine: sigh, slump of his shoulders, yeah, yeah, doing what she asked. He loves to always play it up, because he's not that annoying. It bothers her anyways. He peels off his shirt too, without her suggestion.
“Woah. No sleeping naked in the living room.”
“I'm not.”
She waits for him to throw his jacket and shirt towards the couch before she places the blanket over his head. He wraps himself in it properly, dramatizing how much effort he has to make to find a mostly okay position to lay over the piano in.
“Comfy?”
“No.”
“Good night, Jay.”
“Wait.”
She pauses on her way across the hallway. He's looking up at her with his best ‘abandoned pet in the rain’ expression.
“I'm sorry?”
“You’re staying there, you know.”
“Fuck off.”
She waves him goodbye and races to her room. Or at least, that's what she makes it look like. As soon as she's out of his sight and stops in the hallway, she has to stop and rest her head against the wall. What the hell. There’s something in this whole ordeal that feels… thrilling, for lack of a better word. The way Jay reacted to everything is at the forefront of her mind. Not being able to identify that is gonna drive her up the wall.
As she finally heads to her room, she stops at Jay's doorway. Wouldn't it be funny? Bird's never away, and when he dares go out with some girl, she waits for him wide awake. What does his bed feel like? She let him pick the one he wanted first when they bought the mattresses in two wildly different stores. How long has it been since they’ve done the laundry?
What the hell is going on in her head. She does a swift turn to her own room and takes off her own pants and sits down in her own bed and hugs her own pillow and closes her own eyes. And has her own dreams. Ehem.
Except that last part's becoming a bit of a struggle.
She tosses and turns for an ungodly amount of time. Well, maybe it's not that much, but when Matt wants to sleep, she sleeps, alright.
“Stupid Bird,” she murmurs. Then it's careful steps towards the living room once more, and when she lays eyes on him again, and he's out like a fucking light, it's more of the same thing. Oh, her stupid, stupid Bird.
She feels insane, smiling to herself as she watches Jay sleep, but it's an interesting sight to say the least. For how much he's been complaining, he looks pretty damn asleep, huddled in on himself, a hand limply hanging to his side. He must've been holding the blanket around him. His nose is buried deep in a pillow. Aww. She wonders again if there’s any trace of her in the cloth. If he can feel it.
So maybe she lays down on the couch instead. Gets herself a perfect view of him the entire time. So what. She manages to get sleep and that's all that matters. As long as she sets up an internal clock and she wakes up before Jay, then—
“Matt. Matt!”
—she does so frantically. Fuck, she failed, it's daytime and Jay's calling for her, still buried against the pillow but squinting at her with only one eye.
“Matt.”
“Bird!”
“What are you doin’ there.”
“Me?”
“Why are you. Couch.”
“I, uhh...” Uhh indeed. “Had to keep an eye on you? Yeah, to make sure you didn't try anything funny.”
“What?”
“What time is it?”
“I'm tied to the piano.”
“Right.” She stands up and starts looking around. “Where the fuck is my phone?”
Jay yawns as he sits up sluggishly. He grimaces. “Oww. My back. Ow.”
“Have you seen my phone?”
“Of course I haven’t seen your phone!”
“Well, your eyes still work, you could've caught like. A glimpse of it. Jesus, you’re cranky.”
“Yeah, well, I slept like shit!”
Matt stops her search with a sigh. She turns around. Jay is looking at her blearily, with the blanket still wrapped around his bare shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest and bouncing his leg, making the metal in the handcuffs sound against the bench over and over. Click-click-click-click.
She doesn't know where the urge comes from. It’s been ruminating in her mind since yesterday and it's like she couldn't put her finger on it until now. So there's nothing but hoping it's in Jay's head too, and if not, that she can make him agree. She takes one step towards him. A second one. He inches away from her in confusion. Click-click.
“Look, Birdie, I'm sorry,” she says, quieting down. “You want me to let you go?”
His eyes make it clear he knows there’s something in her mind. “Yes, I’m… been telling you.”
Trying to keep her hand from trembling, Matt reaches up to his hair. She combs it back gently, carding her fingers through it, pretending to fix it when all she does is try to feel it brush against her skin.
“Are you really sure?”
What she wants, on the contrary, is to freeze the moment here. Her hand in Jay's hair before he says anything else. She's dropped a stupid line to convince him and now it's his cue to laugh at her, shove her away and scoff with disgust, Jesus, Matt, did you think that'd work? You want to control me with shitty seduction? You're a gross bitch and you're pathetic for even thinking about it. And also, just so you know, I already know you lied about having sex with Connell Matthews in high school just to make yourself look good after you saw me kissing that girl outside the bathroom, when really you couldn't get past second base at that stupid party before you walked out on him. Wow, and now you're guaranteed to gonna stay a virgin until you die. Hope it's soon.
But Jay's burning up so much she's shocked he doesn't pass out. Huh. So he must be that easy.
“What are you doing?”
She swallows her heart back down from where it's threatening to throw itself out her throat. After another moment of silently toying with his hair, Matt tugs on it until his head is tipped backwards. His jaw has gone slack and his beautiful lips are parted. Like he can't believe it's happening. God, he is that easy.
“Matt.”
And his neck.
“What if I just leave you like this, though?”
Of course he's that easy. She's thought about it. Had arguments with him about it. Did everything she could to get his girlfriends away. Made them leave thinking he was an even bigger piece of shit than he is. Turned to comfort him about how other girls are sluts who wouldn't get him or love him and it's for the best that they're gone. His problem is he thinks he's so suave, but any hot bitch is gonna get tired of him eventually. He just has to be more careful putting himself out there, actually, he should just stop doing that and stay with her. And then she'd propose a videogame day to cheer him up.
And now she's insinuating something to cheer him up and she has no fucking clue what she’s doing. But she knows her Bird and what he looks like when he's freaked out like this, and his glassy eyes and her own heartbeat drumming in her ears. She leans down until their noses are touching.
“You're not gonna do anything about it.”
It’s not a question and it's not a challenge. Jay does what she tells him to and he sits there.
And then she pushes forward to kiss him. His morning breath is strong. She really, really could not care less right now. Their position is very uncoordinated until Jay turns his head and they manage to slot together. They’re still mostly just pushing their lips together, mouthing at each other hesitantly. She pulls back. She's so hot she's getting cold. When her hand drops from his hair, it's like Jay clicks out of a trance, looking down at his feet again. Matt notices his thighs are tightly pressed together.
“I—” He clears his throat. “I can't do anything about it.”
“Oh, but you won’t even try.”
“You handcuffed me.” He's so, so quiet.
“I don't know, are you sure you didn't want me to? Like, Jesus, you let a girl overpower you. And what about the second time? There was no protest there.”
He doesn’t dare look up at her, just shakes his head. She's done it, she's gotten him to play along, and she has to try not to jump with joy about it.
“What? Speak up.”
He falls forward to bury his face on her chest, letting a long “Matty” rumble through her. Her heart almost drops at that. Fuck, get yourself together, MJ. You gotta be alert while you're making him melt in your hands.
She wraps her arm around his head and holds him in place. “I think I'm gonna cuff your wrists above your head. And you're gonna let me, eh?”
She pulls his hair again and earns herself a whimper. It might be muffled against her, but it's a clearer noise than the ones before. She'll take that as a yes.
Matt all but runs to her room to get another set of handcuffs. After finding it under the ball that is yesterday's clothes, she sits on the foot of her bed and takes a few deep breaths. She presses the back of her hand against her cheek. Christ, she's on fire. Has she got any business flustering Jay when she can't keep herself cool, either?
When she's back, Jay starts playing a soft tune on the keys before him like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. The blanket's been sloppily discarded on the floor. She's seen him bare-chested before; many times, in fact, but he's still blushing down to his chest. His spine is very straight whenever he sits—he's a pianist, so of course—but right now it's almost imperceptibly curved, like he's trying to make himself smaller.
At some point, he stops playing and they're both staring at each other. Matt must have some look on her face, because Jay presents his wrists to her very sheepishly.
It's like he's doing it on purpose.
All her blood rushes to her legs. She closes their distance and kisses him again, sticking her tongue between his lips. He uses his hands to move her closer and she almost falls on him, then pushes herself between the space between his legs and the piano. They both flinch when she accidentally presses down on the keys, but Jay leans up to continue kissing first. She takes one of his hands from where it's squeezing her back and wraps one part of the handcuff around it, fumbling to click it closed without breaking the kiss. Before doing the same with his other wrist, though, she forces their bodies apart. Jay offers up his free right hand. No, yeah, he's got it right, but she hasn't really thought out the logistics of what the fuck they're gonna do next. This would be a good moment to extend on the lesson she had been trying to teach him: sometimes plans are hard; when horny, doubly so.
She pets his head as she thinks. “We don’t fit on the piano.”
“Uh. No.”
She scans the room. She really doesn’t want to lose the whole momentum and point of this by freeing him now, even if she goes on to cuff him to something else. Jay can't be moving.
Her line of sight lands on the pillows and blanket on the floor.
“Hey, you said your back hurts?”
“Yeah. I haven't forgotten about it.”
She takes the pillows and sort of calculates Jay's distance to the floor, then places them so they make a soft surface.
“What are you doing?”
“Okay, when I give the signal, I'm going to pull you back onto these pillows. Think of it as a leap of faith.”
“Wait.”
“A lean of faith.”
“Bring the actual mattress from my room.”
“I can't drag that all the way here. And you're not gonna want to make your bed when we're done.”
“I make a good bed.”
“You're going on the pillows.” She hooks her arms around his so she can keep a hold on him by his shoulders. He's pliant. “Okay. One, two, three.”
It's clumsy and loud. The bench scrapes against the ground again and Jay isn't working with the ‘faith’ part, yelping once his entire weight is relying on Matt. She shakily sits down and his head drops on her stomach. This position's also not too bad, but it doesn’t work with what she was thinking. Maybe for another time.
She stands up and effortlessly yanks him upwards until he's laying with his head and back resting on the pillows.
He covers his face with his hands. “Jesus.”
Matt smiles as she tugs at his wrists and straightens his arms over his head, finally cuffing them together. “Do you like it when I manhandle you? Or would it be womanhandle? Actually, why is it even manhandle? That’s misogyny there.”
He clears his throat. “Yeah. I like it. A lot.”
From the strain on her cheeks, she knows she's straight up grinning. She hovers above him now, reaching between her own legs to unzip Jay's pants and drag them down, making his boxers the only thing between her and his erection. She can't get his clothes fully off of him, considering he's still awkwardly strapped to the bench, but this is good enough.
This is her Bird, his pale body stretched underneath her, his graceful piano hands fiddling with each other in anticipation, his cute sharp teeth chewing on his bottom lip and his crooked eyebrows pinched and his pointy ears shining red. This is Matt of all people, in all her repelling glory, straddling him.
She supposes she'll just get to it, palming Jay through his underwear and getting another yelp in response. She keeps her eyes on his face to gauge his reaction from the different ways in which she touches him, even if there's not that much of a science to it and he's sensitive either way.
In fact, it almost seems like Jay's close to spilling all over her hand at any moment, so she squeezes him gently to stop him. He arches his back and flops back down on the pillows, trying to catch his breath.
She knows what it's like in a porno; this goes in there, that goes in there. But that's not how she wants it to go and she would never be the star of those films in the first place.
“Listen, Birdie, I’m not– you're not getting inside me. We're not doing that.”
“Okay.”
Alright. She expected a protest or a beg. Guess he's needy. There's no need to guess, really. The sight of him is making it clear.
“I'm gonna, uh. Give me a minute.”
Letting go of Jay, she touches her own underwear instead. There's an embarassingly big wet spot that's been forming there for a while, getting cold despite her insides burning up. It sort of matches the one on Jay's boxers. She breathes in and out, shuts her eyes closed and starts rubbing herself through her briefs. Her right hand makes its way up Jay's torso, starting above his crotch and snaking upwards before scratching its way back down. There’s not much damage done given her short nails, anyway. Jay squirms under her, stomach fluttering whenever her fingers run over it. His hips stutter upwards, rocking her gently, but she can tell from the way he's shaking that he's trying to follow her command, not going too far until she gives the word. He's so sensitive and so desperate and he's so, so good for her.
Jay sputters. “What did you just say?”
Her hand stills. “Huh?”
“You said something.”
“Did I?”
He has to look away. “Matty.”
Shit, did she say it out loud? “No, I'm not– I’m not teasing you. Fuck, ignore that. Or. Wait, did you like that?”
Silence. Bingo.
“Did you?”
“Yes. Yeah.”
“Should I say it again?”
He pretends to be non-chalant, shrugging.
“You know, you're in no position to have such an attitude right now. Do you want me to say something?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“You know.”
“I don’t.”
Jay bites his lip and tries to hide his face again, barely covering his eyes with his forearm.
“Can you. Please. Say I’m good for you.”
“Oh, totally. Was that so hard?”
He repeats her name for the millionth time. She loves hearing it over and over.
“I know, Birdie. It's true, isn't it? You are being so good for me,” she says, and she gets her point across by sitting on him.
She sets a solid pace now, grinding forwards and backwards over Jay's cock. They both stick to each other, wet cloth against wet cloth and it's almost like the real thing. Her voice goes thin every time she tries to keep praising or degrading Jay. She can't really decide which one she likes doing more.
It's honestly beyond pitiful how they're both bordering on teenagers more than ready to burst mere seconds in. She doesn't get to tease Jay when he comes whining her name, because she's far too busy speeding up and shivering at how the stickiness under her spreads further. She lasts just a bit longer, riding Jay through and after it until he's wincing from what she assumes is overstimulation, but she has to have it, she really does, and he's so, so good.
With heaving breaths, she flops down beside him, shoving him gently until she's stealing a little bit of pillow.
Jay swallows thickly and struggles to look at her from behind his arm. “Can you, uh—”
“Oh, yeah, hold on.” She sits up, still shivering. Realizes something on the way up. Uhh.
“...MJ.”
“Yeah?”
“The key.”
“Yeah, uh.”
“Matt.”
“Here's the funny story. It's really funny.”
“Madison.”
“I don’t remember seeing, um, any key?”
Jay's face drops with horror. “There has to be a key.”
“No, yeah, there has to, but I threw the cases away and I didn’t… see anything…”
“Is this a prank? Did you–did you plan all this?”
“No, man, I don’t know.”
“Oh my God.”
“Look, maybe a screwdriver or something—”
“You're so stupid!”
“You can't call a lady that.”
“What the hell did you think was gonna happen?!”
“I'm sorry! It was in the heat of the moment! I just forgot! Look, I'll–I’ll call Jared?”
“No!” he practically squawks. “Not Jared! What's he gonna think when he sees me?”
“Bird, it's Jared or emergencies.”
Jay squeezes his eyes shut.
“Jared.”
“Good. Okay. Jared. Oh. Oh, God.”
“Stop laughing!”
“I'm sorry! Sorryyy… I love you?”
He frowns at her. “That’s not gonna work.”
“I can kiss you?”
He averts his eyes.
“A kiss for Birdie?”
Jay sighs and turns his head towards her. Matt leans down and holds his face to peck him on the lips a few times. Her Birdie lets out a more than pleased noise. She's more than happy to be the reason for it.
“But, uh, can we lay down for a bit before I go get him?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Matt basically throws herself on him. She wants to tease him further, be mean and pull his hair and stick her tongue out at him, because she's heard if girls are mean it's because they like you, or something like that, but his eyes are closed and he's trying to relax and she's still trying to look apologetic for fucking up.
“We can discard the handcuffs plan.”
“Please.”
“Can't have you getting horny on stage.”
“You too.”
“Maybe I need to tie you up more often.”
Jay tries to shift under her. Matt wonders if she's still a virgin after all this. She presses her ear against his chest and listens to his heartbeat take its time slowing down in the next couple of minutes.