Page 177 of Resurgent

“I wish I could…but I’ve never come close to making either of those mistakes.”

Matt looks at me like I’ve just killed his puppy. “Never?”

“Never.”

“You've never been distracted thinking about another woman while you're supposed to be on a date?”

“Nope.”

Matt looks genuinely shocked. “That's actually kind of impressive.”

“I didn’t really date.”

“No?” he asks, and there’s no missing the challenge in his voice. “You don’t secretly have an ex-fiancé that’s going to come looking for you, do you?”

I laugh before I can stop myself. “Not even a little bit. My dad made me help him train dragons when I was younger—his way of keeping me out of trouble and not getting a girl knocked up young like he had. Then I joined the military with some friends as soon as we were of age, and progressing became my sole focus.”

“Oh fuck. Are you about to tell me you’re a virgin?”

“What?” I choke. “Not even close.”

“Thank the Gods. This night would have gotten really weird if I had to give you the birds and the bees talk and show you how to put a condom on a bottle,” he says, pretending to put one on his beer bottle.

“You’d be more accurate if you flipped the bottle over,” I joke, before remembering this is Reyes I’m talking to…Annalise’s best friend, not mine.

We both try to laugh it off, but an uncomfortable silence still falls between us.

When the awkwardness has stretched too long, I finally clear my throat.

“Soo…I have a new desk to build.”

“A desk?” he asks, so desperate for a change in subject you’d think I’d just handed him the key to his own kingdom.

“Yeah. Annalise’s is old and falling apart. You wanna help?”

Matt immediately sets his glass down. “Absolutely.”

We barely glance at each other before we’re up, drinks forgotten as we setoff—two men ready to do a task one could do in the blink of an eye.

The desk takes considerably longer than it should...Mostly because the instructions are terrible. Partially because Reyes insists he understands them. And maybe a tiny bit because I refuse to admit he might actually be right about step seven after being wrong about every step that’s come before it.

“That piece goes there,” Matt says.

“It doesn't.”

“It does.”

“It literally doesn't.”

Matt holds up the instruction sheet. “See?”

I stare at the paper, then at the piece, and back at the instructions. “That diagram is wrong.”

Matt grins, “So, in other words…I'm right.”

“Don't.”

“I just want that acknowledged.”