Page 57 of The Golden Scoop

I head inside, and for the first time all night, it’s quiet. Almost too quiet.

And the only thing I can think about is Matt.

M. Hunt Feature Notes:

Things are getting messy.

Does it count if Matt Hunt’s juicy, drama filled gossip is about ME?

FOURTEEN

Emma

Furious. That’s how I feel after a good night's sleep.

I’m waiting for someone to tell me it was a fever dream, a product of my imagination. The lack of messages from Tom proves otherwise.

Matt better have a good explanation if he expects me to continue shadowing him around. In fact, I’m going to stop by his place before I’m stuck on set all day with his unbearable attitude.

Coffee can wait. I get ready in fifteen minutes, fueled purely by anger. My only issue is I can’t seem to decipher if it’s from him ruining my date or from him showing up with someone else. Stella, no less. A reminder that regardless of what Olivia said, people like Matt have different standards—higher ones—and I’m nowhere near them.

I stop in front of his gate and hit the buzzer. A sleepy Matt answers over the intercom.

“Open up,” I growl. A second later, the metal bars whir to life. I park sideways in front of his garage, effectively blocking his escape.

He doesn’t come out, so I ring the doorbell. My foot taps restlessly, already in fight mode.

With his schedule, I’d assumed he’d been up for at least a couple of hours. Expect the Matt that welcomes me looks like he hasn’t slept at all. His hair is tousled, his eyes droopy, and the only thing he’s wearing is a pair of light gray sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his waist.

“Why aren’t you up?” I bark. He’s not ready for what’s coming.

“Long night,” he mutters.

“I bet.” I push past him, half-expecting to find a naked Stella making breakfast. The coast seems clear. I lean against the kitchen counter and cross my arms over my chest.

Matt’s moving infuriatingly slow. He shuts the door and saunters over to me.

“What the hell was that?”

He frowns. “What?”

“Are you kidding me? How about you showing up at Saona and taking over my date?”

“It wasn’t planned,” he argues. “Plus, if I recall correctly, I asked if we should join you. I didn’t just sit down.”

I roll my eyes. “Because you knew neither Tom nor I were going to say no with Stella standing right there,” I hiss. “Newsflash: other people have manners. Something you clearly lack.”

He stretches his arms over his head, and I’m momentarily distracted by all the exposed skin. Annoying, and completely irrelevant. I need to focus.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he groans, bending forward. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t have a great night either.”

“No. It doesn’t.” My voice rises. I try to rein it in, but I’m too far gone. “You don’t get to barge into my life like that!”

“I know. I already apologized!”

He’s getting frustrated with me.

“A half-assed apology is not enough, Matt,” I shoot back. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me? For your date as well, given that you barely said two words to her.”