Page 20 of Rumor Has It

“Calm down. That’s a bold assumption at best. She and I did try to date, if you recall.”

“Sixth fucking grade doesn’t count,” he says firmly. “Do not use that as a legit excuse.”

I mean, he’s right, but I was stretching to make my point. Which is, despite these little fantasies that have bombarded me over the past few days, I will not be completely freaking out my best friend by hitting on her. Curiosity is not enough to implode my life.

FOURTEEN

ELLIE

When I arrived home, all I wanted was the fattest glass of wine I could possibly pour. Well, that and to take my bra off. Which is why I walked in, straight past Theo in the kitchen and to my bedroom, where I yelled back at him to pour me a glass of wine while simultaneously removing the dreaded undergarment. It’s more like Victoria’s Titty Prison rather than Secret. Wanna knowmysecret? I just want my titties to be free. All the time. Forever.

After I’ve peeled out of my work clothes, thrown my bra across the room, and draped myself in my softest sweatpants and tank top, I emerge feeling ten times better than before.

I’m putting my hair up in a bun on top of my head as I round the corner into the kitchen and collide with the wall of muscle that is Theo’s chest. He’s a fair bit taller than me, so my face hits pectorals and I stumble back.

“Shit, sorry,” I say, catching my balance.

“No, it’s my bad,” he says. “I was going to bring your wine back to you.”

Somehow, he’s still holding my glass of wine in one hand, his beer in the other, and never even lost his footing a little bit. Had that been me, I would have been wearing both of them. And possibly sitting on the floor.

Theo finally hands me the glass and gestures to the counter where two paper bags from Millie’s Diner sit, the sides of each speckled with grease spots.

“God bless you, Theo.” Something about seeing those bags made my shoulders relax even more.

He laughs, probably knowing I really, really appreciate this if I just said that to him.

“No problem,” he says. “Let’s eat it while it’s still hot.”

Five minutes later, we’re sprawled out on the couch with reruns ofThe Officeplaying in the background as we rip open all the bags and wrappers.

I scarf down my fries and burger so fast, I’m worried Theo is going to think I didn’t eat all day. He doesn’t like it when I do that.

“I promise I ate today,” I say, figuring I’ll just get out in front of the situation.

“I’m not judging you,” he says. “It’s Monday, it’s Millie’s, and it’s a no-shame zone.”

I sit back, inhaling deeply as I sink into the couch, my wine in hand. I needed that. I don’t know why. Maybe the combination of freeing my tits, the delicious wine, or the mere fact that I didn’t have to cook, but I am just feeling great at this moment.

“Rough day?” he asks, leaning back and propping his feet up.

“Yes and no,” I say. “Just Monday shit.” It’s quiet for a moment, and when I look over at Theo, he seems to be deep in thought. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, and exhales deeply. “Just thinking about some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

His expression shifts, and it’s almost like he’s hesitant to tell me. Which is weird, because we tell each other everything.

“Lindy keeps texting me. Keeps asking to talk.”

I don’t know what’s worse than blood-boiling anger. Maybe something like lava-for-marrow anger. But whatever it is, that’s how mad I am at the words he just said. And I’m not just mad, I’m inexplicably offended. Lindy offends me. I realize now that my disdain for this woman runs much deeper than I originally thought.

And I find myself wanting to ask a lot of questions.What does she want to talk to you about? Are you going to talk to her? Are you going to do it in person? Can I throw her off a bridge when you’re done?

But all of that feels a little too girly bordering catty. “Are you going to talk to her?”

“I’ve been avoiding it,” he says. “I don’t want to, but maybe I should just get it over with so she’ll leave me alone.”

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