Page 26 of Pucking Matt
“Guys, I think there's been a misunderstanding. My truck's not for sale.”
Before I can explain further, another car pulls up. A guy jumps out, practically salivating as he eyes my truck. He notices the other two men standing beside me.
He says, “That's it right there. I'll offer you more to drive it off today.”
What the hell is going on? I feel like I'm in some weird hidden camera show, except the joke's definitely on me and I'm not laughing.
“Listen,” I say, trying to keep my cool despite the frantic energy building inside me. “I don't know what's going on here, but my truck is not for sale. Not today, not ever. It's mine.”
Just when I think this situation can't get any weirder, Amber walks out of the cafe. Because of course she does. The universe clearly hates me today.
One of the guys spots her and his face lights up. “There she is. The one I was talking to. Your boyfriend here said the truck's not for sale.”
Boyfriend? What the actual–
Amber doesn't miss a beat. She slides up next to me, all sweet smiles and big eyes. “No, my boyfriend and I just had the chat this morning. He's selling. Right?”
I stare at her, my jaw somewhere around my ankles. The pieces start to click into place, and I feel a mix of admiration and fury. She set this up. All of it.
“I'm not selling anything,” I state, but Amber just pats my arm like I'm particularly slow-minded.
“We talked about this. Remember? We decided to sell.”
Another person pops out of nowhere and says, “I’m here for the truck. This is it?”
The guys start checking it out and talking about it. One of them is clearly confused as he watches us. I'm right there with you, buddy.
“Amber,” I say through gritted teeth. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Privately?”
“Yeah.”
As I drag her away from the growing crowd of potential "buyers", I can't help but feel a grudging respect. This is next level. Petty, sure, but impressive to pull off.
“What the hell?” I ask once we're out of earshot.
Amber's innocent act drops, replaced by a smirk that could rival my own. “Just giving you a taste of your own medicine, Pearson. How does it feel to have your life disrupted?”
A guy shouts, “I’ll give five more grand than what you’re asking!”
“No!” I shout as the guys start arguing.
I walk over and say, “I’m so sorry to waste everyone’s time. I’m not selling.”
“Sweetheart,” the biggest guy calls out. “You have some explaining to do. I drove an hour to get here.”
Another guy says, “Yeah, I drove thirty minutes!”
She shrugs. “We’re selling it.”
I turn around, meeting her gaze. “No, we’re not!”
She says, “It’s not my fault he’s changing his mind again.”
“It’s not our fault that your boyfriend keeps changing his mind. Now, hand me over the keys so I can take it for a test drive.”
“I’m not handing you these keys.”
They look at Amber.
