Page 14 of Sticky Situationship

“Then,” I start, picking at the label on my beer, “as I got to know Libby, I realized how much I…liked her. Then Jake suggested—”

“Jake? Jake!” Charlotte exclaims. “You took dating advice from Mr. March? Please tell me you didn’t.”

I promptly ignore her outburst and whatever feud she and Jake have had going on ever since we all went out together last New Year’s Eve. “Jake suggested I let her know how I feel,” I continue in Robert’s direction. “You know, drop a hint and gauge her reaction.”

“And I take it that didn’t go well?”

“Actually, I didn’t get that far.” I shoot my mom a look.

She takes my eye contact as an invitation to jump in. “I interrupted their, ahem,eveningbefore Brock confessed his feelings for Libby.”

I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say I was about to profess my love that night, but my mother is certainly right about interrupting the evening.

“I don’t understand,” Robert says, resting a hip against the counter at my mom’s side. “Why would you stopping by change his plan?” He turns to me. “Couldn’t you have just waited until your mom left?”

“I would have,” I say. “Except—”

“Except I asked Libby if she’s the girlfriend Brock’s been talking about for months,” my mom admits.

“Ouch.” Charlotte wrinkles her nose.

“Exactly. And Libby also happens to be one of my residents in my program.”

“Awkward.”

“You can say that again,” I say. “Within minutes, Libby was gone and made it clear things were over between us.”

Mom turns from the stove, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, and shoots Charlotte a look. “Libby was quite upset when she left. Visibly troubled at the news.”

I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. “Yeah, because she thinks I have a girlfriend!”

“Had you two agreed not to see other people?” Charlotte asks.

“No.”

“Brock,” she says, shaking her head. “You are an idiot.”

“My thoughts exactly,” mom chimes in.

WTF?

“What do you mean?” Robert asks, clearly as confused as I am. “Why is Brock an idiot?”

“Because,” Charlotte says as if lecturing a classroom full of kindergarteners, “If Libby was really interested in only no-strings-attached fun, she wouldn’t care if Brock had a girlfriend. Her anger proves she’s jealous, which in turn proves she has feelings for Brock.”

I open my mouth to argue then close it again. I blink, the realization of her logic hitting me like a torrent of water shooting out of a fire hose straight at my chest. Could Libby have feelings for me, too?

“You should talk to her,” Robert says, his voice gentle. “Clear the air.”

Should I?The idea flickers like the wick of a candle ignited for an instant before it goes out. I shake my head. It wouldn’t do any good. It’s too late. “Libby made it crystal clear she doesn’t want to see me again.”

Mom circles the counter and rests her hand on my back. “Libby is an exceptional young woman. She’s a brilliant physician who’s ambitious and dedicated and caring. But she’s also under a lot of pressure, right now. Robert’s right. You should talk to her. Or I could put in a good word for you, if you’d like.”

I nearly choke on my beer. “Mom, no!” I sputter. “Please don’t interfere any more than you already have.”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “Just trying to help, dear.”

“Has she…said anything?” I ask, my voice quiet.

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