Page 38 of One-Star Romance

“I didn’t realize it was a decision,” Angus said.

Rob sat up too. “It’s not, really. Sure, lately the work has been”—Unrelenting? A bit boring? Somehow extremely stressful while seeming meaningless in terms of practical application?—“a lot. But it would be ridiculous to say no. I’m lucky to have gotten this offer.” He dug a stick into the ground, scratching a line into the damp sand. “Even if it’s partially nepotism.”

“Stop that! You got this. You’re brilliant.”

“Yes, but there are lots of brilliant people in academia, and most of them can’t get a job.”

“Hey, I know what it’s like growing up with a big-deal dad. The Futon King casts a long shadow. That’s why I wanted to carve my own path. So I get if you’re having doubts.”

Rob couldn’t even think about doubts right now, not after everything else that had gone on this weekend. So he merely said, “I suppose you shouldn’t run away from something just because a parent has already done it well.”

“Hm.” Angus peered at him. “You think?”

“Take Laura Dern.”

“Oh, I love Laura Dern!”

“The world would be a worse place if she’d looked at her parents’ successful careers and said, ‘They’ve already conquered acting, I guess I should be a lawyer instead.’ ” Rob stopped scraping the dirt, letting the stick fall.

“Righto,” Angus said. “No Jurassic Park.”

“Well, they still would have made that movie. Just with a different actress. But it wouldn’t have been as good. And think of how her absence would have affected Blue Velvet, Citizen Ruth—” Angus was still nodding along, but less assuredly now, and Rob caught himself. “You haven’t seen any of those, have you?”

“No. But I do love The Truman Show.”

“That’s Laura Linney. Anyways. The metaphor has gotten away from me.”

“Well, do you love academia like Laura Dern loves acting?” Rob hesitated, and Angus waggled his finger in warning. “Don’t you dare say something like ‘What is love anyway?’ ”

Rob swallowed, because that had been exactly what he was going to say. “I don’t know what I was going to say. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Angus put his hands on his hips, the picture of a stern father. “Natalie seemed pretty upset when she came into our room. Now, you know you’re my best friend, so I take your side in things, but I have to ask: Were you mean to her? Because she’s practically family now, so I have to stick up for her too.”

Rob scoffed. “You ever stop to think that maybe Natalie could have been the mean one?”

“Natalie, mean? Never!” Angus chortled. “Well, unless you’re one of those poor saps trying to date her. After hearing some of her stories…” He looked more closely at Rob. “Wait, are you trying to date her?” He lit up. “Ooh, you should!”

“Didn’t you just call her suitors ‘poor saps’?”

“But our children could be like cousins!” Rob narrowed his eyes, and Angus went on. “Besides, they’re just poor saps because she’s not excited about most of them. Except maybe this Jeff guy. He seems to be sticking around. So if you want to get in there, you’ve got to make an aggressive play now—”

“I’m not trying to ‘get in there,’ ” Rob said. “I want to be with Zuri.”

“Right, Zuri!” Angus clapped his hands together. “Well, Gabby and I will have to befriend her too. Because I’m into this kids-like-cousins idea now.”

16

Birdsong woke Natalie. In the bed next to her, Gabby sighed and stretched, her eyes still closed, waking up slowly like she always did.

Natalie looked up at the ceiling, yesterday coming back to her. She’d already let Rob reject her mind, and then, like when she was younger and willing to sleep with jerks who thought they were so much smarter, she had offered up her body instead. But Rob wouldn’t even take that.

Normally, the first time she had sex with someone, the potential intimacy of it overwhelmed her. She had to have a few drinks beforehand to cast a pleasant haze over the whole thing, to dull the anxiety of revealing herself so fully to another person. But last night with Rob, a strange and reckless feeling had come over her. She’d pulled back from him in the lake, terrified by the knowledge that he really saw her. But next to him in that bed, she’d suddenly wanted to reveal herself and to see him fully in return in a way she never had before. It had been so big and new and scary that she couldn’t even ask him without pretending it didn’t mean that much to her.

Now the hurt she was feeling cut much deeper than a regular rejection. She was furious with herself. No, fury required energy. She was just drained. A tear traced its way down her cheek, and she brushed it away.

“Oh, Nat,” Gabby said in a foggy voice, reaching out to touch Natalie’s wet cheek.

“God, I’m sorry.”

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