Page 102 of Pucking Matt
“Yeah,” I say as my heart races.
“I had to calm down Michelle. I mean…when I got there, she wasn’t out of control, but she was drunk and upset with me, so I had to take her home.”
“Okay,” I say as my heart stops pumping. I think about the possibility of Matt and Michelle hooking up that night. I don’t think I would be upset if it happened. I guess I would understand.
“I apologized for leading her on. I told her that she deserves better.”
“Wait, you told her she deserves better?” I chuckle. “Why does every guy say that?” I’m sitting straight up in my bed now as I wait for his answer.
“What? That the girl deserves better?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Like what does that even mean?”
“For starters, I only liked what she looked like. It didn’t matter what she was really like, so yeah, she deserves better than some guy who just wanted to hook up.”
“Wow, you are a fuck boy.”
“I’m…I’m not proud of that.”
“So, did you have makeup sex with her that night?”
“No. I apologized and told her to get out of my truck. I told her that we were done and to stop coming around.”
“Did you open the door for her?” I tease.
His brows raise. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m not actually. It’s a valid question.”
“Yeah, you are. You’re mocking me. No, I didn’t open the door for her.”
I’m trying to put the puzzle pieces together. “Matt, that’s kind of fucked up. Why would you treat her like that?”
“You know, it’s not just me in the situation. Michelle didn’t try to get to know me. She doesn’t know anything about me, which is why she was fine with hooking up. Did she apologize for that? No, she can’t even apologize about uploading ourvideo to a fucking porn site. I said I was sorry for being an asshole, but she didn’t once apologize for using me. So, back to your original question–self-growth. The old Matthew Pearson wouldn’t apologize for anything. If I fucking do something, I own up to it without being sorry.”
“Okay,” I mumble. “It sounds like you won’t be doing that again.”
He shakes his head.
So, I ask the hot question of the hour, “Are you sleeping with anyone now?”
His chair rolls until the back hits the bed. “No.”
“You say it like you’re offended.”
“I just…why would I be talking to you and sleeping with someone else?”
I shrug. “I don’t know why guys do anything that they do. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were sleeping with someone. It’s not like we’re a thing.”
“We’re about to be a thing.”
I scoff. “We are not.”
“This weekend. A few days from now, you’re going to be holding my hand and being a witness to my mom’s elopement. A fake girlfriend. Your signature on her marriage certificate. We’re about to be a thing.”
My eyes widen at that thought. I can’t be a freaking witness. I just did the paperwork for her divorce. I put the awkwardness I feel into mocking him. “When you put it that way.”
“I’m not sleeping with anybody. I’m not interested in anybody. I’m not talking to any other girls right now. I’m not actually a fuck boy. I just like people to think that I am.”
