Page 27 of Lucy and Her Wicked Three

"This place is mad swanky," Silas whistles.

"I know. Mateo's got champagne taste. But I'm not complaining. You should see the pool."

We make small talk on the way upstairs, and he's surprisingly easy to talk to. After letting us into the penthouse, Silas whistles again. "Damn. Mateo didn't hold back, huh? I'm surprised he hasn't asked you to marry him yet," he remarks, catching me off guard.

Seeing my expression, he adds, "The apartment." I have no idea what he's talking about. "You know Mateo bought this place for you, right?"

"What?" I gasp.

Silas laughs loudly, setting the grocery bag on the kitchen counter, leaning his skateboard against the wall in the hallway by the front door.

"Told you. Bro's got no chill. Zero to a hundred, real quick."

"But… I just moved in two months ago. He… I thought… didn't he already have this place?"

"Nah, he lived with me and Noah. We were pissed at him actually, he didn't tell us he was moving out or that he met a girl." Silas looks around the apartment, noting how sparse it is. "His room looks like this, too. Barely anything on the walls. Our apartment is nice though, a lot more art on the walls. I'll bring you some."

I'm still dumbfounded, but Silas makes himself at home, setting his backpack on the ground, kicking off his shoes and climbing on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "How many rooms does this place have anyway?"

"Umm… two bedrooms. Plus, Mateo has an office."

Silas nods thoughtfully, then says more to himself then to me, "He doesn't need a home office. Three bedrooms sounds perfect. This place is sick."

I don't know what's happening, but I'm here for it. His energy is infectious, somehow bypassing all my anxious, nervous thoughts with his immediate familiarity. All my earlier reservations, worries, all fade into the background. Like we've been doing it a lifetime, I put the groceries away while Silas digs into his bag, pulling a game console out of his backpack, messing with the wires on the TV, plugging it in.

He really is a nerd. I love it.

After I finish putting everything away, I join him on the couch, just as he hands me a controller.

"Oh, I don't play. I don't know what I'm doing."

He has his own controller, waving me off. "Even better. I can see in real time how a novice plays."

I'm still skeptical but he turns on the game, while explaining the premise, describing what he's looking for.

"I can't believe you made this," I say in awe, after he tells me he and Noah built the game.

"Well, this one we've been working on for a year. Right now we're working out glitches, and it's easier to do on a gaming console than a computer. But it's a dream, being able to do this. When we dropped out of college, our families told us we'd fail. Not cause they wanted us to, mind you. They were just worried about us succeeding. It was one of the reasons Matty pushed his career so hard. He wanted to take care of us, so we'd have something to fall back on if we did fail."

"He's like that. Taking care of problems." I think about him buying this apartment for me, if Silas is to be believed. Snippets of conversation float to mind, remembering things we talked about, hanging out at my tiny rent controlled apartment, before we moved in together. I wanted to take up swimming again, but the closest public pool took two trains to get to, and the gym where I take spin class didn't have one. You'd think given how much CycleSorceress's classes cost, they would.

I thought it was strange that he didn't mention having a pool at home and hadn't invited me over to use his when we talked about it. Apparently that's because he didn't actually have a pool yet, because he didn't live here.

I feel like I need to reevaluate our whole relationship. Should I be mad at him for all these half-truths and white lies? I feel like I should be.

But I also know, especially listening to Silas talk about how Mateo worked so hard to not only support his family like he told me, but to also support his best friends so they could pursue their dreams. Even though it's controlling and definitely gives him the upper hand in his relationships, he never wields that control. He just wants to take care of people.

In a backhanded, manipulative way.

I shake my head, refocusing on the game. Silas laughs at how bad I am, my fingers slipping on the buttons, making the character jump when I'm supposed to run, or do fancy flips and fight moves when I'm supposed to duck.

"It's hard!" I yell, laughing as my character dies for the fiftieth time.

"Okay, I concede, you suck at this." He smiles, taking the controller out of my hands.

"Why don't you play, and I'll watch. Tell me what you're looking for."

"This feels like a trap."

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