Give Me a Chance (BYC #2)

11. Natalie

11

NATALIE

T he nerve of him.

A nice guy, my ass. It’s all pretend. It always is. They’re only nice as long as they get their way.

Rage speed-walking to the office makes me winded, but doesn’t calm me down.

I don’t want to calm down. He deserves my anger. He deserves more than one person calling it like it is, but if there aren’t more candidates, I’ll gladly carry the burden.

Besides, calming down will lead to noticing things—like the dark flecks in his emerald eyes when he’s pissed, the set to his jaw, or the way his biceps strained against his shirt when he crossed his arms over his chest.

Those silly, little details are completely insignificant in the total scheme of Matt Anderson. He’s an asshole...in a nice guy package.

He thinks he has the right to judge me? To judge who I decide to sleep with? Fuck that guy.

I spend the rest of the workday ignoring the right side of the office. The clock strikes five, and I storm out of the office. I am still seething, too mad even for yoga, so I prepare for a night of bingeing ice cream and watching Netflix.

Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky because as soon as I leave the building, Anne runs after me, yelling for me to wait.

“I’m done with you two. So, we’re going to grab a drink—right now. And you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.” She scolds me, a behavior so untypical for her I don’t have the nerve to say ‘no.’

“OK,” I say, quietly, and she lets out a breath of relief.

“Hey, do you have time to join us for a drink?” Anne asks Rina just as she exits the building.

“Sure. Connor’s picking Eric up, anyway.”

“Great. Let’s go.” This ‘angry mom’ Anne is scaring me.

We walk behind Anne in silence as she sets a fast pace. She stops and opens the door of a bar—the same one where it all started over a year ago. She leads us to an empty table in the least crowded part of the bar, and I slump into the brown leather seat.

“What’s going on? Is everything ok?” Rina asks Anne, concerned about her behavior.

She sighs. “This one here,” she points at me, “is finally going to tell us what is up with Matt and her before I strangle them both in their sleep.”

“Fuck, finally.” Rina perks up.

The waiter takes our order, and Anne hurries me with her hand.

“So . . . I think it’s safe to say we hate each other.”

“No kidding,” Rina murmurs.

“Quit stalling.” Anne isn’t joking around.

I never have a problem sharing about my sexual history, but this somehow feels intimate. Maybe because of the shame I feel about it.

“Matt and I have some history.”

“From when? You hated each other since you’ve met,” Rina says.

“Not exactly...” I start stress-twirling a lock of my hair. “We hit it off pretty good at the end of the school year party last year.”

“What do you mean?” Anne asks.

“Well, last year after the party at the office, we continued it here in this very bar. Most of you guys left . . . Matt and I . . . stayed . . .”

“Oh, no.” Rina takes a big sip of her drink, realizing where this is going.

“We were tipsy, and I guess attracted to each other, and one thing led to another...” I shrug.

Anne gasps loudly. “You went home with him?”

“Uhm, not exactly.” She looks confused, so I continue. “We kind of connected here, in the restroom.” I point my gaze towards it.

Rina snorts while Anne spits out her drink.

“You didn’t? I’ve used that restroom at least ten times since.”

“This makes so much sense,” Rina adds.

“What?” I’m not sure what she means.

“The weird energy between you two. You don’t do complicated, and Matt doesn’t do uncomplicated.”

“Yeah, well, I made it clear it was the last time it happened, and we should keep it a secret.”

“I get that, but it was one night over a year ago. What am I missing? Why do you still act like enemies?” Anne asks.

“Because he’s an asshole . . .”

“Matt? Matt Anderson, that we work with?” Rina laughs at Anne’s words. I groan.

“Yes, his whole nice guy act is just that—an act.”

“Tell us the whole story.” Rina knows me too well.

“We made a truce for the wedding, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere with our bickering.” Rina puts her hand on mine.

“I noticed it was calmer. I thought it was vacation magic.” Anne concludes, but Rina shoots me a pointed look, waiting for the rest.

“Uhm...” I don’t know why I’m nervous talking about it, but my stomach is in my throat. “We may have had sex again. After the bachelorette party.”

Rina now looks surprised. It’s extremely rare for me to put hormones before reason.

“Ok, so you’re obviously attracted to each other. What’s wrong with that? Why are you back to being enemies?” Anne asks.

“Everything’s wrong with that. Like Rina said, I don’t do complicated and sex with her husband’s best man, now coworker, a guy that’s going to be in my life forever...that’s as complicated as it gets. Adding to it the fact that Matt is the complete opposite of me when it comes to dating, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Sure, I get it. But you were both consensual adults. I never seen you in a twist about a casual sexual relationship,” Rina adds, trying to read too much into it.

“He wanted to try dating for real, which is a crazy idea. And took it bad when I rejected the idea,” I scoff. “He also didn’t have the common decency to tell me he was going to start working at the BYC, and now he ruins my days with his annoying presence and derogatory comments.”

They both look at me as if I’ve sprouted a new head, and I hate him even more. He’s so good at his ‘good guy’ thing, my best friends don’t believe me.

“Whatever. You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that, Nats,” Rina says. “But I’ve never seen you this way about a guy. So maybe there’s something more there.” Her voice is soft and considerate, like I’m a delicate flower and not a strong female warrior.

“You know how I am when it comes to mixing business with pleasure. It’s messy, and I don’t like it.”

“I know. And you have every right to have your boundaries. We’ll support you no matter what.”

Knowing me too well, Rina switches the topic, letting me be. I’m glad I told them. I don’t like keeping secrets from them, but some secrets are mine to keep.

By the time I get home, I’m feeling better, so I eat only half a pint of summer berry cake pop ice cream, while watching random Netflix documentaries.

Lying in bed, I realize the best thing to forget about having sex with Matt would be sex with someone else. So, I open my Tinder and within a half an hour; I got a date set up for the weekend.

Screw you, Matt Anderson. I can date and fuck whoever I want.