I’m a nightmare.
Obviously older than the other two.
It reignites everything I felt in that moment, and it’s like I’m possessed by the middle-school version of myself when I give in to the urge to make him squirm. Smiling up at him, I slowly pull his empty chair away from the table, giving the cushion a few welcoming taps.
Having no other choice but to concede, lest he get another verbal Italian ass whooping by his mom, he forces himself to sit beside me.
“Did you have a nice day?” I ask him once he’s settled into his seat.
He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders. “It was fine. It was good.”
“That’s good,” I tell him. “I’m glad you had a good day.”
He nudges himself closer to the table, nodding hello to Marco and Holly.
“Hi, Matt,” Marco says coyly. I forgot for a second that he’s a coconspirator in my amorous deception, but judging from Matt’s posture,hecertainly hasn’t forgotten.
I shift my chair just an inch closer to his. “Hey, Matt, do you think I can talk to you for a second?”
He takes an uneven breath and panically glances around the room. “Oh look, here’s my mom! There she is right there.”
Professor Leoni reenters the dining room, carrying in a family-style portion of ourprimo, or first course. “Tomato and parmesan risotto,” she announces, placing the large bowl onto the table. I take a deep breath in, and I swear on my life, if Bed Bath & Beyond ever produced a line of tomato and parmesan risotto–scented candles, I would fire those bad boys up day and night.
“Everyone, help yourselves, please.” Needing no further encouragement, Marco goes for the serving spoon first. I consider fighting him for it, but then I remember that he’s one of my favorite people to have ever walked the earth. Unfortunately.
“Matteo, were you able to get some work done today?” Professor Leoni asks as she pours herself a glass of red wine.
“A fair amount. I’m making progress,” he answers.
Holly passes me the serving spoon and I give her a bright smile before my eyes shift to the bowl.Oh, you beautiful risotto. Come to momma.
“Matteo is a writer,” Professor Leoni proclaims proudly. “A TV writer, and the show he created is a huge success. Have you heard ofOperation Starship?”
I drop the spoon and Marco chokes on the water he was sipping. Even Holly’s jaw drops.
I twist to look at Matt with disbelieving eyes. “YoucreatedOperation Starship?”
“I did,” he says stiffly.
I just stare at him, too stunned to process as a little laugh escapes me. “Wow. In that case, my mom is your number one fan. And my sister. Even my dad watchesOperation Starshipfor Mark Hamill.”
Matt’s cheeks get the slightest bit red, but he’s quick to banish the spark of life away. “Mark definitely brought in a solid demographic for us. We’re very lucky to have him on board.”
He talks about his job like it’s nothing. Like it’s completely normal that he wrote the show that everyone in America is either obsessed with or skewers to shreds on the internet. The best way to describe it is as a super steamy medical drama set in space.Grey’s AnatomymeetsStar Trekwith the perfect mix of smutty, smutty smutness. If loving gorgeous space doctors is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
I look across the table and Marco is only just regaining his composure, shaking his head and placing his glass down. “Wait a minute. I’m not okay. This is not okay. Do you know what my quality of life was like when I sawOperation Starshipfor the first time? I lost my mind. I watched both seasons in less than a day and it simultaneously gave me a splitting headache and left me intensely aroused. I read fan conspiracy theories online for a week straight after the last episode and I now truly question how much the government is hiding from us. I also became internet pen pals with a Starshipian from New Mexico that I met on Reddit, but that’s neither here nor there.”
My eyes dart around the table at Marco’s confession. Matt isn’t thrown in the least and Professor Leoni is beaming, apparently enjoying our collective minds exploding over her son’s creation.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Holly interjects, “but is there any way you can tell me if Admiral Rigel is really pregnant with Despina’s baby? Blink once for yes and twice for no.”
Marco gasps. “Yes! You need to tell us. If Rhea busts in again and ruins their happy family, I’m going to sue you. I will legitimately see you in court.”
Matt smiles, and it strikes me again how normal and handsome he looks when he does. It shouldn’t be allowed. He shouldn’t be allowed. “Contractually, I can’t leak any spoilers,” he says, “though I have been told that, on occasion, I tend to scratch the back of my neck when I think of Rigel and Despina’s happily-ever-after, so take that for what you will.” Holly, Marco and I all wait on bated breath until he blessedly scratches the back of his neck.
“Thank god,” Holly sighs, taking a large, relieved sip of her wine. Marco lifts his glass for me to cheers with him, and I happily comply.
Rigel and Despina forever.
