Page 176 of Resurgent

“Uhm, hey…” He glances past me into the house. “Can I come in? It’s kinda cold out here.”

I stare at him expectantly. “Since when do you knock?”

“Good point,” he laughs, squeezing past me before I can answer.

Closing the door, I turn to find him standing in the entryway, rubbing his hands together like he’s waiting to be scolded like a child.

“What did you do?”

“What? What do you mean?” he asks, far too guilty-sounding to be believable.

“You’re standing in my house like you’re either expecting a lecture or for the police to show up at any second...This is the last time I’m going to ask…What did you do, Reyes?”

He looks down at himself. “I didn’t do anything…not really…”

“Which means…?”

“Can we sit first?” he laughs.

Fuck. That’s twice he’s asked for permission…this can’t be good.

Moving toward the fridge, I pull out two beers. “Drink?”

Matt nods, though he doesn’t touch it once I’ve set it in front of him.

For a few seconds, there's only silence.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

Matt winces. “Well…I was on it.”

“Was?” I question, eyebrow raised. I’ve heard all about Matt and his playboy ways since Annalise moved in. If I didn’t know how charismatic he is first hand, I probably wouldn’t believe half of it.

“Ended early,” he says, staring into his still untouched drink.

“Why?”

His chuckle is loud…too loud to be anything good. “Apparently, girls don't appreciate it when they're trying to pick a movie to throw in and you're too distracted thinking about another girl to even realize they're talking to you.”

My mouth twitches as I try not to smile, “Did you manage to notice before or after she asked you the same question three times?”

Matt looks up. “Second time.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah…and then it got worse.”

“Worse…how?”

“I was trying to explain the situation and when I said Annalise…”

“Please don’t tell me…”

“That she thought I was calling her Annalise and she lost her shit? Yup! That’s exactly what happened. One second I’m sitting on her couch with a bowl of popcorn in my lap, and the next I’m being chased out of her apartment, her shoe almost connecting with my head because she threw it at me!”

“Oh, Gods!”

“Please tell me for the love of all that is good that you’ve made the same mistake before.”