Page 95 of Best I Never Had

Without a second thought, I text Shawn back.

Me: Friday sounds perfect.

“You got me into this mess. The least you can do is help me figure out what to wear,” I whine. My phone is held to my ear with my shoulder, and my neck feels sore from the strained position it’s been sitting in for the past twenty minutes.

“Natalia,” José says in a low voice in an attempt to soothe me. “You will be fine. Just wear a sexy little dress, and he won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

I groan. “That isn’t helping.”

“Why are you even stressing about it now? Isn’t the date on Friday?”

I sigh this time, defeated and still clueless on what to wear to a real first date. Period. Something I haven’t been on since I graduated college.Oh my god. Has it been that long?

“I just need a distraction, I guess.”

“You have nothing to worry about. That boy is already smitten with you. You just have to be your sunny little self and charm him.”

A rough knock on my door interrupts our conversation.

“I still need to look nice,” I answer, getting up off my bed and walking out of my room.

“Honey, you always look nice.”

I smile into my phone screen before peeking into our peephole. Through it, I see a man I recognize even through the distorted glass.

“Natalia?” I hear José call through my phone.

“I have to go,” I barely whisper.

“Alrighty, baby girl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I don’t extend any other greeting, simply hanging up before setting my phone down.

When I open the door, Matteo stands there, looking disheveled and tired. His eyes are rimmed red, and his facial hair is growing into an almost full beard. And his eyes look at me as if he’s pleading.For what?

“Hi, Natalia.”

“Matteo, what are you doing here?” I question.

“Can we talk?”

I don’t move. I don’t step aside for him to come in or even answer him.

When I stay silent for too long, he speaks again. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I finally say, my voice low and barely a whisper. He ducks his head lower. To listen to my soft voice or to intimidate me, I don’t know, but I lean back in response.

“Is it because of your boyfriend?”

I blink, trying to decipher what boyfriend he’s talking about. Then I remember our encounter. When I stood by, completely and utterly hopeless, as he and Hayden exchanged an awkward greeting. And I realize…I no longer feel so weak and broken. When did that hopelessness fade away?

“No,” I answer, shaking my head. My answer sounds curt, bordering on blunt. From my rigid posture to the white-knuckled grip I still have on my door, nothing about my appearance says that he’s welcome here. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea that…”

What? That we just talk?I can’t even place why. But I know him being here, alone and looking the way he looks, can’t end well.

“Is he here? With you?” he asks.

I shake my head again. “No.”

---