This kiss is, in part, his way of giving her some solid ground to stand, to explain himself and hopefully make the air between them a little less tense than's been since he decided to drown his sorrows in scotch and drunkenly make out with her. He almost blew it the other morning, and the last thing he wants is for another person from home to be against him, not not be on his side. He hates that there are sides right now, that his desire to protect his friends from the harshness of the future means standing on the other side of a fence he didn't mean to construct. Whatever this is, he needs Rebekah. He needs not to be alone in this.
Matt rests his forehead against hers when he draws back, opening his eyes to mak sure that hers are still closed.
"I don't know what I want, and I sure as hell don't know what I'm doing. All I'm asking is that you be patient with me and let me sort it out. So, what happens in this apartment, stays in this apartment... until things calm down and I figure out where I want to take this."
Hopefully better phrased than he did that night on the Lockwood mansion's doorstep. His words had tumbled out all wrong, and he was too busy clinging to the scraps of his morals in the wake of almost being blown to pieces to correct himself and put it to her differently.
His hands fall away, and he takes a step back. "You can open them, now."