Page 68 of Roommate's Guide to Love

“Okay, we need to back up,” I say as I rest my elbows in the bar. “Where did you hear that?”

I mean, he’s right. I just want to know. Wait! Does he also somehow know I saw Porter this morning shirtless, in pajama pants, and carrying Grace? No. He couldn’t know that. But I sure as shit will never forget that image.

“Everyone knows, my dear. Everyone knows.”

“Everyone? Who’s everyone?” Because for Harry, this could mean just the guys at the bar. But how he uses his finger, gesturing for me to turn around, I realize at that point he actually meanseveryone.

The Joint is steady right now, as we’re starting to get in the after-work crews for happy hour, and until now, I thought people were staring at me because Porter normally works this shift. But now I’m thinking this is more than customers clocking our shift rotations.

“How did people find out?” I swear to God, that fucking Facebook group…

“Really, Quinn? I know you’ve just gotten back to town, but you had to realize news like this was going to spread like wildfire.”

I mean, I did figure, but I thought we were careful. I also thought we were careful about the other secret. Do people know about that too?

“I’m just staying for a little bit to help him out until he gets a handle on everything.”

Harry starts cracking up as George slides in next to him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hurricane over here didn’t realize we all knew about her and Porter playing family together.”

Now George joins in on the laughter. “Oh, yeah. Y’all are the talk of the town. Especially since you kids think you’re keeping it some big secret.”

“We…I…it’s?—”

Both of them start laughing as they reach for the television remote that they one day took control over and never let go. “You keep searching for the words, Hurricane. We’re going to watch our program.”

I walk away from Harry and George, but now can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at me. Are they whispering? What do they know? I can’t ask them, but I have to assume if they knew the really long secret, that it would be the gossip right alongside us living together. As much as I’d like to study how everyone is looking at me, a group of guys playing pool wave me down for a bucket of beers.

I’m glad now more than ever that I told Porter we have to be over. If people really did know about us, it would be chaos. And frankly, it’s none of their business what went on between me and Porter.

But more than that, and what I’ve never said out loud to a soul—not even Turtle—is that I don’t want to deal with the looks. Or the snickers. Or the “is that the best Porter can do?” talk.

I’ve been that girl before. I’ve been that girl many times. Too many to count. So I did what any naturally sarcastic, stubborn, woman would do: I built up a wall of jokes and self-deprecating humor to give people the idea that I don’t give a shit what people think of me. But I don’t need a therapist or one of my sisters to tell me that it’s really because I care a lot what people think.

Probably too much.

Which is why we need to get ahead of this. Well, as much as we now can.

Quinn: So everyone knows.

I set my phone down on the bar and start wiping it down as Porter immediately texts back.

Porter: What do you mean?

Quinn: I’m pretty sure the town knows I’m living with you. And that it’s because of Grace. Who they keep calling “the baby.” Our idea of keeping things mum is now officially out the window.

Porter: Fuck. Don’t these people have lives of their own?

Quinn: I think you know that answer. So what’s the plan?

Porter: Just hold them off the best you can. I’m on my way. I think it’s finally time that Grace meets her Joint family.

Quinn: You sure? I can just tell them it’s none of their business and to fuck off.

Porter: While that’s great in theory, I know these folks. They won’t stop. They’ve got nothing but time on their hands, and happy hour doesn’t end for another two hours. Plus, we knew it was going to come out sooner or later.

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