Night Owl(42)

"Matt..."

I glanced up. I met Hannah's big brown eyes, full of concern.

"Work is stressful," I mumbled. "Really stressful. It's a rough day. I'm fine. I couldn't park for shit, I..."

At least I was saying a few true things.

Hannah reached for my hand and squeezed it. Such unconditional affection came across from her. And I was trash. I was filthier than trash.

I slid my hand out of hers.

"Hey," she said, "let's get something to eat, yeah?"

"I'm not hungry." I pulled a fifty from my wallet and tossed it across the table. "Get whatever you want."

"Matt, I am not taking—"

"Just take it!" I slammed the table. The umbrella shook above us.

Hannah clutched the bill and shrank in her chair. A few people paused to look at us. God, I was losing it.

"Sorry. Hannah, sorry. It's work." I gestured vaguely. "How's... how's work for you, by the way? Pam being a monster?"

"No." Hannah gazed at her lap. "Um... she's fine. Impressed, I think."

"Has she asked about me?" I leaned forward. Trying to appear offhanded was never going to work right now. "How we know one another or anything?"

"No, Matt. And don't worry, I didn't ask her about you either. I'm—" Hannah stood. "I'm going to get my lunch. I'll be right back."

I watched her walk into the deli.

When I saw her ordering, I gathered my jacket and bolted.

I couldn't do this anymore.

I had to make it right.

I had to call Bethany.

And maybe I wouldn't tell Bethany the whole truth, and maybe I wouldn't tell Hannah the whole truth, but I had to tell one it was over, and I had to tell the other it was starting.

When I got to my car, I texted Hannah.

I'm so sorry. I got called away. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'll be better tomorrow. I have an obligation tonight. I'd rather be with you but I have to do this. Let me take you camping this weekend. Tomorrow. We'll go into the mountains. Say yes.

CHAPTER 18

Hannah

"You're home early..."

Chrissy raised her eyebrows and watched me expectantly.

Chrissy just happened to be in the kitchen when I got home from work. Mom too. Maybe it was a coincidence, but it felt like they were lurking, waiting to see whether I came home after work or went to Matt's place.

At least mom didn't beat around the bush.

"You haven't already lost that sweet boy, have you?"

"He's twenty-eight. Not exactly a boy." I rummaged through the pantry, hiding from mom's prying eyes and looking for comfort food. "Also, he's not that sweet. He's kind of a douchebag sometimes."

Chrissy clicked her tongue.

Mom made one of her know-it-ally mhmm sounds.

I emerged with a bag of cheese puffs and found them nodding at one another.

"Yup, they had a fight," Chrissy said as if I weren't standing right there. "Which works out for me. Can you drive me to work Hannah?"

"Drive your own ass to work."

I slammed the pantry door and stormed down to the basement.

I couldn't think straight. Was my fairytale romance crumbling? Was Matt wonderful up until the parental introductions, after which he turned into a snarly strung-out ogre?

He seriously looked like he was on drugs today, and he acted like it too. I followed that unsettling line of thought.

He said he quit drinking five years ago. What about drugs?

He had the crazy mood swings. He had the appetite of a bird. Today he was late (he was never late) and sweating and shivering in 90-degree heat. Oh, and then there was the suspicious apartment deep clean before having me over. Fuck.

I unpacked like a hurricane to distract myself.

For the first time since I met Matt, I was starting to feel like he might be too good to be true. Too perfect, too right for me, too interested in me. There had to be a catch.

I was sweating by the time I finished emptying all the boxes in my room. The physical labor felt good. My arms burned and my knees ached.

Never mind the fact that I checked my phone every ten minutes.

I put all my books on the shelves and my one stuffed animal on the bed. I remembered Matt sitting on my bed, smiling at me.

He wanted to go camping tomorrow. Overnight, I assumed. I hadn't given him an answer yet. Yes, I wanted to go camping with the guy who came over on the Fourth of July. No, I didn't want to go camping with the guy I met for lunch today.

Beautiful Matt. Scary Matt.

But in spite of scary Matt's pasty skin and irrational rage, I felt this weird urge to protect him. Maybe he was on drugs. Or maybe he was telling the truth. He had money; he could have the high-stress job to go with it.

Whatever Matt's problem was, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and snarl at the world until everything left him alone.

Everything but me.

I put my clothes on hangers and organized the closet. A wardrobe update was in order as soon as I got paid. I needed more work clothes. I needed more thongs. I also needed more clothes that made me feel like I belonged next to Matt.

I frowned as I hung up the blouse and skirt I wore to work.

I wanted to watch Matt trip over himself when he saw me in that skirt. Before I met him for lunch, I undid the top three buttons of my blouse. My platform pumps accentuated my shapely calves. I was even wearing makeup.