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When he’d offered to share his flight to Hawaii after she missed hers.
Matt didn’t match the stories she’d been told about him when he was in high school, so she’d thought they were exaggerated or maybe even wrong.
“I always thought…” she began. “There are two sides to every story.”
Matt shook his head. “No. There’s only ever one story, with the storytellers trying to sell their version of it to others.”
“It doesn’t feel like you’re pleading your own case here,” she pointed out.
“Because people’s perceptions of me don’t matter. I found a way for revenge and I took it. If that makes me what others believe to be ‘the bad guy,’” he finger-quoted, “then so be it.”
Liza wasn’t buying a damn thing he was selling, but she had to hand it to him. Matt was one hell of a snake oil salesman. He was obviously trying to get a rise out of her, piss her off, and convince her that he was an asshole.
What she couldn’t understand was why? What had changed between last night and this morning?
Regardless of what he said, there was a disconnect between the old Matt and the one she’d spent the last few days with, but he seemed determined to make sure all she saw was this “bad” side.
“So you didn’t care about Adriana at all?” Liza kept searching for something that made sense here. She’d genuinely liked Tony’s first girlfriend. Six years younger, Liza had idolized Adriana, who was pretty and popular and all those things awkward middle school girls aspire to become.
Matt frowned. “Who’s Adriana?”
Liza’s temper spiked, despite her efforts to remain calm. “Guess that answers my question. That was Tony’s girlfriend, the one you seduced.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t remember that was her name. Didn’t really matter. After all, she’d served her purpose, and I didn’t need her anymore.”
“Served her purpose,” Liza muttered.
“Her only usefulness to me was that she was dating Tony Moretti.”
“Usefulness?” she snapped loudly, hating that she was starting to sound like a damn parrot.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s how to use people to get what I want. Adriana was a means to an end, nothing more.”
Liza beat back her anger, taking a couple of deep breaths, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Because she didn’t have a doubt now that Matt was purposely trying to push her away.
“You seem to like portraying the villain in that story.”
“You don’t think I was?” he drawled.
She didn’t reply, her silence revealing more than she probably should. Because she still didn’t want to think that.
Which confirmed she was officially an idiot.
Matt scoffed. “Only stupid people try to justify bad actions in others. You aren’t stupid, Liza, so stop looking at me like you’re going to see something different than what’s right in front of you.”
Arnold was right. Liza wasn’t approaching this thing between her and Matt as casual. If what she felt for him was just sexual attraction, this conversation would have had her waving the Moretti flag in his face, calling him a heartless bastard, and telling him to take his sex without strings and shove it up his ass.
But physical desire wasn’t the stronger emotion here. She was certain there was a good man inside him, one stubbornly determined to hold people at arm’s reach. The same question—why?—rattled around in her brain. What the hell was holding him back? It almost felt like he was a man paying penance, but for what?
Or was he right? Was she looking for justifications that didn’t exist, simply so she could excuse the fact that he made her heart race and her palms sweaty even though she knew he’d intentionally hurt someone she cared about?
Liza put her menu down. She didn’t want to be with him right now. Not when he was acting like this. Not when her thoughts were scattered and flipped right-side up and upside down like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle.
“I’m not hungry,” she lied.
Matt looked at her. “Should we go?”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to leave on my account. You stay and eat. We’re only a few blocks from the hotel. I can walk on my own. I might…” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she was going to see if she could get her own room, but she couldn’t force herself to say the words. If he said that was a good idea, she’d be… Fuck. Hurt. And if he asked her to reconsider and stay with him then…fuck…she would.
