Page 13 of Blurred Lines

“You think my underwear will dry by the morning?”

“You’ve run out of clean underwear?”

“No, but I need two weeks’ worth for my trip to San Francisco, so I have to wash everything.”

What the hell? “What trip to San Francisco?”

“I thought I told you?”

“You definitely didn’t.”

“Really?” Theo glanced over his shoulder, spatula in hand. “I could have sworn I did.”

“I certainly would have remembered.”

“It’s for work. I have meetings set up with potential investors for the next round of funding. Can I use your printer? I need to take hard copies of the presentations to hand out.”

“Uh, yes. Yes, of course. But…but you said you’d spend more time here.”

“And I will. When I get back from San Francisco, I’m yours for the next few months.” Theo held out a spoonful of ground beef. “Try this—is it spicy enough?”

My appetite had completely deserted me, but I tasted the sample anyway. “It’s fine. What about the weirdo who keeps sending messages? He’s really creeping me out, and Vi and Dawson aren’t back for another five weeks.”

“It’s just some crank, sweetheart. He probably never leaves his mom’s basement.”

“He has my number. What if he has my address too?”

“You have a great security system. If you’re worried, call the cops—that’s what they’re there for.” Theo’s voice softened. “And I’ll call you every morning and evening, I promise. If this wasn’t important, I wouldn’t go.”

In the space of five minutes, our drunk-on-lust phase had ended and we’d moved on to the next step of our relationship—the hangover. I’d known this would happen—I’d read enough books on relationships as part of my literary research to understand it was inevitable—but secretly, I’d hoped the fun parts would last a little longer. I mean, would it really have been so difficult to share his schedule a week earlier?

No.

No, it wouldn’t have.

I could have offered to put his underwear in Vi’s dryer, but perhaps wearing it damp would teach him an important lesson about communication.

“I understand. Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Was I trying to convince myself or him?

“Theo only told you about the trip last night?” Vi sounded incredulous. “What a jerk.”

“Maybe he didn’t think we’re serious enough to coordinate schedules?”

“Stop making excuses for him.”

“We haven’t said we love each other or anything.”

“You’ve been exclusive for almost three months. You spend several nights a week together. You do his freaking laundry.”

After he forgot to take it out of the washing machine, I’d been tempted to leave it damp in the basket, but when he’d begun cursing as he battled with my elderly printer after dinner, I’d relented and hung everything up. His boxers had still been damp this morning, though.

“He’s worried about funding.”

“So? It wouldn’t have cost anything to mention his plans. Doesn’t he know how worried you are?”

“He thinks I’m overreacting.”

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