Trust Me(7)

Matty met my gaze. "Cool game, right?"

I nodded, realizing I was grinning like a fool. "Yeah, pretty fun." I pursed my lips and waved toward the bar, coming back to earth. "We should eat before it gets cold."

And then, we could leave this place that seemed to be seducing me the same way Matthias McDaniels was. It surely wasn't intentional on his part. As irritating as he was, there was this pull...a force field around him that drew me closer. My emotions around him seemed to run so high, they were almost manic. I was either rip-roaring mad, or stupid-giddy, and both states made me majorly uncomfortable. I liked to be on an even keel and in control at all times. There was no question that being around him took me right out of my comfort zone.

I settled into my bar stool and peered down at the plate in front of me. The pieces of fish were golden brown pillows and smelled like heaven, and the fries looked like crispy spears of perfection. Pity this was Matty's place, because I was definitely starting to think I could get comfortable here.

I hunkered down and jammed a fry into my mouth, groaning as the flavor exploded on my tongue. Salty, greasy and sooo good.

"Right?" Matty said with a short laugh before plucking up one of his wings and tearing into it.

"I apologize for calling this place a dump, Bob,” I said to the bartender who was milling nearby. “I was so wrong. This place is utopia."

I bit into a filet and groaned. I'd regret it later when I had to work it off on the treadmill, but for right now, I was on cloud nine. Maybe it was a remnant of growing up poor and hungry for a lot of years, but I was a sucker for tasty food.

We ate in silence, and I managed to bite my tongue when Matty held up a finger for another drink. We’d made some serious headway and I wasn’t about to screw it up. He said it wouldn’t be a problem going forward, and for now, I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. I’d been around enough junkies to know that, if it was an issue, it wasn’t a secret he could hide for long.

When Matty finished his wings and went to the bathroom to wash up, I motioned to bartender Bob for the check. I’d won our Street Brawler 2 match, but only because Matty had taken it easy on me. Paying felt like the right thing to do. Plus, it was another leaf on the olive branch.

Bob printed it out and handed it to me in a leather billfold. I looked it over and waved him over again.

"Sorry, but I think this check's wrong,” I said with a smile. “Matty's drinks aren't on here." I wasn't flush with cash or anything, but I was a firm believer in karma and I wasn't about to rip this nice guy off because he'd added up the bill wrong.

"Nope, that's right. Matty drinks seltzer water with lime. No charge for that."

I let that sink in for a second and frowned. How strange. Why wouldn’t he just have told me that? "Tonight he drank seltzer water, or you mean he never drinks at all?"

Bob looked away and made himself busy by moving some glasses around in a rack. "I’m not...probably shouldn't have said anything. It's really none of my business. The bill's right though." He snatched up a towel and smiled apologetically before making his way to the other end of the bar, that he’d apparently just realized was filthy.

"You ready?" Matty asked, rolling up next to me, wallet in hand.

I nodded and forced a smile as I tossed a twenty on the bar and then added another ten for Bob. "Sure thing."

"You don't have to buy. I lost," Matty protested, and made to grab for the check, which I pushed out of his reach.

"You went easy on me and then told me how to do all the advanced moves. I can't take the win like that. Next time, though, watch your ass, cuz I'm coming for you."

He looked like he wanted to argue more, but I'd already started for the door.

"Thanks, everything was delicious," I said to Bob on the way out.

Matty caught up in a few long strides. "Thanks for the wings. Next time, though, I buy.”

I didn’t respond, too preoccupied with the thought of a next time.

“My gym is just a few blocks from here,” he said. “You can follow me."

He was parked a few spaces down from me and climbed into his car. He pulled out and I pulled out behind him, still processing what the bartender had told me, and what Matty hadn't.

Bob had said “Matty drinks seltzer water”, not “He only had seltzer water tonight.” A fine distinction, maybe, but one that made me think this was more than just a one off.

So was he a recovering alcoholic? He was young, but that didn't mean anything. There were plenty of people in my old neighborhood that had substance abuse issues as early as thirteen. It was great that he'd identified it and was treating it early, if that was the case. Or maybe I was reading into it too much. Maybe he just didn't like the taste of booze. Although, if that was the reason, it seemed strange that Bob would have clammed up and ran off the way he did.