I push him away by the shoulders and look seriously into his surprised eyes. “I need you to understand something right here and now if we’re to have any type of relationship, friendship or otherwise.”
He looks up at me seriously, expectantly.
“My mother makesthe bestItalian food in the world, and no one else’s cooking comes close. So, we will never go to an Italian restaurant together. Got it? It’s just a waste of money.”
“Okay, understood.” He laughs and stands. “I agree that your mother’s cooking is unreal, having had the pleasure of recently experiencing it.” He nods. “I have never been so well fed as I was last weekend.” And I believe that he’s being serious. She’s just that good.
He kisses me on the forehead and pulls me toward the front door.
MATT WRAPSan arm around my waist, pulling me in as we wait for our table. I go willingly, snuggling into him. I want to savor this moment, take a picture—something. I’m on a non-date with Matt! How did this even happen?
He’s so tall.
“Your table is ready,” the hostess announces, glancing at me knowingly, apologetically—I think she can tell I was kind of having a moment. I flush at the thought of the goofy grin I must have had on my face. But can you really blame me? Matt is incredible and handsome. There’s no way I could have resisted him, no way I wouldn’t be on cloud nine now.
When we reach our table, he pulls the chair out for me again and sits across.
His phone starts ringing in his coat pocket, and he says, “Sorry, I need to check this. Might be the hospital.” He pulls it from his pocket and checks the screen. His brows furrow, and he chooses to ignore the call.
“Not the hospital,” he mutters, tension clear in his voice.
O…kay?
“Okay. So, you said I need to order the Wiener schnitzel?” he asks in a forced cheerful voice. Matt pulls up the menu and reads with seemingly great concentration.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“What? Nothing. Why?” But it doesn’t look like nothing’s wrong.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you being weird all of a sudden?”
Matt hesitates for a minute. “I’m not being weird.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Matt. Come on. Tell me.”
He sighs and shrugs. “Your brother’s been calling me all afternoon, is all. Probably checking in on us.”
“He has? That’s weird. I don’t have any missed calls from him.” I pull out my phone to double-check. Nope. Nothing. Not even a text.
“No, Liza. You don’t get it.” He shakes his head with a small smile on his lips. “He’s not calling to see how we’re doing with the move and whether we managed to finish. He’s probably calling to make sure I didn’t try anything,” he says, guilt clear across his face.
“I mean, you didn’t. We didn’t,” I say curtly.
He tilts his head at me. “Come on, you know that’s not true.”
I think back to him holding me close as he whispered his confession in my ear, how it felt to be in his arms, his lips on my skin. We didn’tdoanything, but we also didn’tnotdo anything. Matt and I definitely made it clear that we have feelings for each other, even if we didn’t flat-outsayit. Which is definitely not going to be okay with Vinny, considering he flat-out asked Matt not to pursue me.
“Just answer the phone next time he calls. It’s no big deal. Or better yet, call him. Tell him the truth—without the details. You helped me move and build furniture, just like you said you would, and now I’m taking you out for a beer as a thank you.” I shrug. “All of this is true. You’re not lying.”
He frowns, looking down at his phone uncertainly. “You mean I should call him now?”
“If you call him while we’re together, it will make it seem like we’re not hiding anything—which we aren’t.”
“Except the fact that I felt you up to the voice of Mick Jagger, made you cry, and then made out with your neck,” he deadpans, and I burst out laughing. Matt chuckles awkwardly, like he still can’t trust that my breakdown wasn’t his fault.
“Seriously,” I say. “Call him back right now.”
He takes a deep breath and dials Vinny, putting the phone to his ear and keeping eye-contact with me while the phone rings.
