“I saw it when I was out shopping for a laptop.”
I tilt my head slightly. “They sold this sound machine at the Apple store?”
Matt pauses. I hope I’m not making him want to take the gift back, though nothing short of hand-to-hand combat would accomplish that feat.
“It wasn’t in the actual store,” he clarifies. “I picked it up on the way.”
I nod and hug the machine a little closer to me. “Okay. Well, regardless, thank you for this.”
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“I really, really like it.” Matt smiles, pleased by my answer, and I start to feel like I should have thought of a similar kind gesture. “But now we’re uneven since I didn’t getyoua peace offering.”
“No, I don’t need anything. That’s not why I did this.”
“But I owe you an apology, too. Obviously, I’m sorry about your laptop, but I also haven’t been the easiest to live with, and I do get a strange amount of pleasure from annoying you.”
“I couldn’t tell,” Matt says ironically.
Glancing at the door, gears start turning in my mind. “How about this—how about I make you anI’m sorryarticle of clothing of your choosing as my formal apology. And then our cease-fire is cemented until the end of time. Is that something you could maybe be into?”
“I could be into it,” he carefully replies. “But if you’re designing me a jacket, just know that I’m very particular about lapels.”
I nod and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Kind of strange that your mind went right to lapels, but sure. I can work with that. But before we brainstorm any more, I’ll need your measurements, so how about we head to the workroom?”
A minute later I quietly close the workroom door behind us as Matt switches on the light.
Our eyes adjust to the brightness as we step deeper inside, and I move to the desk as Matt ends up beside one of the dress forms.
“Where are Marco and Holly tonight?” he asks.
I pick up loose pieces of fabric from the cutting table, searching for the measuring tape until I find it under an L-square ruler. “They went to dinner and then out for a drink.”
Matt moves the dress form around a bit, twisting it from side to side. “Sounds fun. You didn’t want to join?”
I walk over until I’m standing just in front of him. “I was tempted, but then I realized that their plans would require me leaving the apartment, and I was too lazy for that.”
Matt grins. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a homebody.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
Matt’s eyebrows lift up a degree, and I go on. “I guess it’s not so much that I’m a homebody. I’m just tired all the time. Most days I go right from school to work—I’m a waitress—and by the time I get home I can barely get my shoes off before I’m facedown on the couch or my bed.”
“There’s no shame in staying in,” Matt says. “I don’t know if you can tell from my well-projected outgoing nature, but I’m an introvert, too.”
“What’s your most nightmarish social occasion?” I ask.
Matt perches himself on the stool next to me. “I mean, there’s a lot to choose from, but I’m convinced that me dancing my way into a wedding reception as a groomsman was created by a particularly sadistic disciple of hell.”
“Yes!” I almost shout. “Wedding dance intros are horrifying! I mean, I understand their purpose and I always try my best, but every time I do it, a very big part of me dies inside.”
Matt knowingly nods. “And no matter what, I always bring down the team average. Then the bridesmaid I’m paired with ends up hating me and I spend the rest of the night drinking away my humiliation.”
“Okay, you really need to stop speaking my truth,” I tell him. “At my sister’s wedding, the groomsman I was paired up with played college football and insisted on spiral tossing my bouquet to me. When he did it, I went into survival mode and ducked out of the way at the last minute, and my peonies hit the groom’s mother directly in the face.”
Matt’s gaze holds mine as he seems to wrestle with an internal debate. “I’m going to ignore the glaringly obvious opening you left for a peony joke.”
Of course.
