Chapter 23
“I’m sorry,” I blink, sure I misheard. “What did you just say?”
He smirks. “Are you really going to make me say it again?”
He has a flirty yet exhausted look on his face, but I ignore it and say, “Yeah because out of the seven billion people in the world, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
He nods. “Yup.”
“Why not ask someone else?” I start stuttering and scoffing. “Like literally anyone else. I’m sure you have many fans that would fall at your feet. Why not choose someone that actually likes you?”
He’s twisting the pen in his palm as he says, “There’s no fun in that, is there?”
I lean into the phone and whisper yell, “I can’t go to your mom’s wedding!”
“Ah,” he stops me. “You just said that you would go and that you would stay the night.” He seems like he’s not in a good mood. From the moment I answered the FaceTime, I could tell something was off. It’s clear he’s not in the mood to joke. “You gave me your word.”
“Matt,” I scoff, blinking. “That was before you told me what the fuck it was!”
“So, what? It’s just an elopement. It’s barely a wedding.”
I grab the phone and start pacing the room. “Do you have any idea what your mom is going to say when she sees me? I mean, if she recognizes me from high school? She’s going to rip me to shreds. I mean, I would understand too, because I tackled her precious son down the stairs.”
He laughs like it’s actually funny. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
He stops fucking around with the pen and says, “This will be her fourth wedding. No, her fifth? Fuck, I’ve lost count. Yeah, her fifth. She expects me to be there, to support her fully.”
“And you don’t?” I cut him off, making sure that I understand what he’s saying.
“Can you imagine your mom marrying guy after guy?” he asks.
I shrug. “My mom has been married twice, and I think my dad is on his fourth girlfriend since high school–”
“So, yes, Amber, out of the seven–almost eight–billion people in the world, I need you there.”
I roll my eyes. “Tell her that you don’t have a girlfriend.”
He clicks his tongue. “Can’t fucking do that.”
“Why not?” I ask, halting.
“You don’t know my mom.”
I catch the look on my face while staring at the tiny image of myself on the bottom right of my screen. I say, flinching, “And I owe you, so this is how I pay you back?”
He nods, hiding his smirk. “Yes. This is my only request.”
“Pretend to be your…girlfriend?” I wince. “Your mom’s wedding? Elopement. Whatever! Oh my God.” I look at the screen and groan, “Matthew.”
“It’s not going to be bad. I promise. It’ll be fun.”
I swallow. “It’ll be fun he said.”
“I need to study this,” he says, grabbing his iPad. “Do you have work to do?”
I nod, thankful he’s changing the subject. Hopefully, we’re getting off the phone.
“Prop me up,” he says.
I exhale, watching him get comfortable with the iPad in his hands.
He doesn’t look at me once, but I bet he knows I’m staring at him.
He must be giving me a moment to process this information, and to be quite honest, I don’t think I will be able to process any of it.
What are his intentions here? He’s claiming that it has to be me who goes with him to the elopement, but I don’t believe that.
I’m assuming it’s because his mom hates me, and I’m probably his evil revenge plan.
Does he even know what pretending to be in a relationship entails?
Oh, God, no. His arms around my shoulder, laughing at the stupid things I say, probably kissing my hair.
If I’m staying the night, there might be one bed, and everyone fucking knows what happens when there’s only one bed!
One of us will be taking the ground. I don’t want to sleep on the ground.
It’s probably disgusting in a hotel room.
I walk to my desk and put my phone down. He can’t see me, but I’m still staring at him, remembering what it was like to dance with him, to feel his lips on my arm, and the conversations we’ve had.
God, my mind is racing about all the ways this could go south. Meanwhile, he’s just studying on his iPad like this is no big deal. Sometimes, I wish I could be inside the mind of a guy. Everything seems much less stressful.
I prop the phone up and can’t help myself when I murmur his name. He looks up at the screen.
I say, “Do you have any idea how bad this is going to be?”
“What?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I give him attitude. “You’re so nonchalant about this, but I’m freaking out.
I can’t be your fucking girlfriend. I bet you’re the kind of guy that doesn’t even do girlfriends, and I’ve never had a boyfriend before.
We can barely stand each other. You work at my fun job to spite me, and then suddenly you’re acting like we’re all good and–”
“Hold on. Hold on.” He grabs the phone. “I’m not acting like we’re all good.
I invited you to a party.” He raises his brows.
“Of which, you accepted the invitation and danced with me. We had a good time until Michelle fucked it all up. And I’m sorry about that.
And then inside of your car, we talked. You apologized for a second time, and I told you that you don’t need to be sorry.
We were holding hands. I was kissing your arm, and now you think that this is all an act? ”
My eyelids are fluttering as I blush. I guess when he puts it that way, we sound like we’re on track to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Fuck. I say, “Okay, but we are not–”
“We’re not, what!” he shouts, and that’s where I draw the line.
“Don’t fucking raise your voice at me!” I yell.
He shakes his head. “I knew you’d fucking freak out. I don’t know what the big deal is. All of this was a dumb idea. I told you that it was dumb, and you’re freaking out.”
“Yeah, I’m freaking out, Matt. You want me to face your mom and we both know she hates my guts. I had fun at the party, but this is going too far. I apologized for what I did. I feel like I righted my wrongs with you, and I just want to move on.”
“You want to move on? So, that night meant nothing to you?” he asks, venom dripping from his lips. I’m scared of what he’ll say next. I can see the change of look in his eyes. This Matthew doesn’t play well with others. Oh, I know this look all too well.
I take a breath. I confess, “It wasn’t nothing.”
“Okay, then…” He exhales. “It wasn’t nothing to me either.”
Wow, I’m standing in the middle of my room, frozen.
I know I’ve said this a dozen times, but I’m a fighter, so to be frozen like this is something new.
He’s called me out on my true feelings, and I’m stunned.
I can’t move and I have nothing to say. Do I feel heat crawling my neck?
Yes. This has never happened to me before.
Oh, God, I feel it in my toes. Now my fingertips. I shake my hand, inhaling.
Matt says softly, “We started off on the wrong foot, Amber. I know it’s stupid to say you owe me. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just messing with you, trying to get you to come with me. You’re so Goddamn stubborn, but I really need you there.”
I suck in my bottom lip, trying to stop the heat from spreading across my body.
Okay, I’m finally no longer frozen. His calm voice is soothing.
He needs me there, or he really wants me there.
And I guess either way, my heart is thumping against my chest at his confession.
I walk over to my office chair and sit, completely thoughtless.
His voice drops low, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’re my perfect distraction, Amber.”
My gut tickles with butterflies. Shit. I stare at him on the screen and wonder how that sentence alone is melting me like a fucking ice cream cone under the Florida sun. His face is soft as he stares at the screen. Thank God for the screen because I think I would reach for him.
“Okay,” I whisper. I guess I’m doing this, and it’s not only because I feel guilty. I think I actually care about him.
He nods once, grabbing his iPad again. He’s shut off to the world right now, and a piece of me is flattered that I’m the first person he’s called.
We don’t speak for about ten minutes, even though I peek at him from time to time. He’s focused on studying. I can barely concentrate on my work. It’s funny how this is just FaceTime, but I’m a nervous wreck like he’s in the room with me. I guess he is, but you know what I mean.
I’ve never been anyone’s distraction before.
I don’t think I’ve blushed that hard in my entire life – so embarrassing – but it also worries me.
I don’t think real life needs any more distractions than what we already have in this modern world, but if I’m Matt’s distraction, then he must be avoiding something.
I glance at the screen. What is he avoiding? Why does he need to be distracted?
I think about all of the conversations we’ve had in the past, and it seems like he enjoys distractions.
That’s what Michelle must’ve been for some time.
He had problems with his ex-girlfriend, and I distracted him from that.
Is that it? He’s still hung up over her?
I don’t know what to think about any of this.
“I’m hungry,” I mutter. “So, I’m going to–”
He looks up from his iPad. “Wanna go grab dinner? I didn’t eat anything after practice.”
I almost laugh, but I try to withhold it. It’s not the kind of laugh that means something is funny, no. My body is giddy at his request. This man wants me to pretend to be his girlfriend and now he wants to get dinner with me? The fucking world is tilting on its axis.
“I’ll pick you up,” he offers. Before I can protest, he’s collecting things around his room. He walks out of his bedroom door and says, “Send me your address.”
I blink a few times. That happened really fast. “Matt, I can meet you there.”
“No, I want to make sure you get home safe.”
“I can handle myself,” I say.
He walks out into the night. “Send me your address.”