Fourteen
The air between us is taut and uncomfortable. Concern radiates off Theo in waves, and it only annoys me more. But as mad as I am at Ben, I’m pissed at myself even more. For waiting on him for as long as I have, only for him to show the least bit of interest when he’s no longer my top priority. For the years I’ve wasted on him.
“You think he bought it?” Theo asks when we’re safely tucked away in his silver BMW. I’m surprised he even has to ask, but maybe he’s just not good at reading his brother. Or maybe he’s too scared to voice the question he really wants to ask.
“Definitely,” I tell him. “He couldn’t even look us in the eye afterwards.”
“Sorry I clammed up on you at first,” he says as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Guess we should’ve worked on our backstory earlier. You’re a surprisingly good liar.” His mouth lifts into an amused smirk. I just manage to return it, but I feel a bit hollow inside. “First at brunch, and now with my brother. You’re fantastic in a bind.”
“Glad you think so.” I salute him, keeping the smile plastered to my face.
He might seem amused now, but just wait until he finds out the real reason I’m using him as a rebound. Hopefully he never does, but who am I kidding? If this lasts for much longer, I’ll give myself away at some point.
“What were you and Ben talking about?” There’s a hesitant quality to his voice. “It sounded like you guys were fighting. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, we were fighting,” I admit, ignoring the last question and hunching lower in my seat with a grumble. “Just Ben on his overprotective bullshit again. Nothing I can’t handle.”
The setting sun has reached the end of the horizon, erupting in the sky with a burst of color. Pink and orange and lilac. Darkness will cover us in no time, but until then, I keep my eyes trained out the passenger window so Theo can’t read anything from my face.
“Overprotective?” When I don’t say anything, he adds, “Was this about me again?”
I let out a long sigh. Theo has been nothing but honest with me so far. I may not be willing to tell him about my feelings for his brother, but the least I can do is be honest with him about everything else, right? My mind turns over for the right words. Theo doesn’t say anything else as he waits.
Finally, I turn my head back to face him. The corners of his eyes are creased in concern as his glance darts away from the windshield to look at me. Then they turn back. I’m not sure what he caught in my expression, but whatever it was is enough for him to reach out and clasp my knee. The warmth of his hand seeps through the fabric, his touch solid and grounding. I take a breath and prepare to tell him half the truth.
“This isn’t the first time Ben’s gotten involved in a relationship of mine,” I say. “Granted, he thinks we’re more serious than we are, but still.”
“Hmm.” Theo’s eyes stay trained out the windshield, but they narrow the slightest bit. I’m scared to ask what he’s thinking, but instead he asks for clarification. “And by ‘gotten involved,’ you mean…?”
“I mean, he gives his opinion freely. No guy I’ve ever dated was good enough for me, according to him. Which I guess means you’re the worst I could do.” I try out a light laugh, but Theo doesn’t so much as crack a grin. If anything, his mouth sets into a grim line. I don’t like the look of it whatsoever.
“Hey, are you getting hungry?” I ask mostly to change the subject, but also because my stomach grumbles so loud there’s no doubt he also heard it.
“We can stop somewhere in town.” We’re quiet for a moment, and I start to think maybe we’ve dropped the Ben subject entirely. I breathe a sigh of relief to myself. I’m about to ask if I can turn on the radio when he says, “So, did he give you any reason in particular?” His eyes dart back to me, something unreadable in his expression. “Why you shouldn’t date me?”
“Um…” I rack my mind for something concrete but come up short. “Just the same thing Alice said, that you have a reputation for breaking hearts.” Which reminds me of something else she said that night at the bar. “Is it true you’ve never been in a relationship?”
His cheeks redden slightly as he looks back out the windshield. When he finally answers, he sounds exhausted. “Yes. But not for a lack of trying.”
“Really?” Alice and Ben make him sound like a lady killer because of the way he goes through women.
“I’ve tried all the sites,” he says. “Tinder, Bumble, et cetera. It’s not that there was anything wrong with any of the women, but”—his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow—“I kept comparing how I felt about them to how I feel about Alice. Believe me, I know how unfair that is. No one had a chance of measuring up to her because I never gave them the chance to.”
Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite. My stomach flips so hard, I can almost taste vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard, not liking the sinking sensation that makes dread crawl down my back. While in some ways we’re complete opposites, in others we might as well be the same person.
What makes a real relationship? I’ve been in two short relationships following Ben, but he’s the only man I’ve ever loved. Even though I hesitate to call what we had a relationship, there was a time when he was it for me. I didn’t need anyone else. But as the years passed and his relationship with Alice got more serious, it feels wrong to call what I feel for him “love.” It’s tainting what should be a pure and honest emotion into something messy and awful. Something unspeakable.
“Not that I ever should’ve been comparing them in the first place, but old habits and all that,” Theo finishes.
He’s always more honest than I expect him to be. More honest than I’ve been with him so far.
“You’ve known her your whole life. I can see how that habit would be hard to break.”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “Now, how ’bout we quit turning the conversation back to me for a change?” He smiles wryly. I only realize my mouth is hanging open when he pokes my cheek. “I know exactly what you’re doing, Marcela. You really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
My face heats. We’re under the cover of semi-darkness now, purple clouds and indigo sky. But if I can still make out the stubble on his cheeks from the headlights of oncoming cars, I’m sure he can see my pink face perfectly. His
thumb brushes one flushed cheek, the rest of his fingers curling beneath my chin. My body reacts of its own accord, breath coming in short pants, thighs clenching.
No one’s ever noticed me enough to realize I hate talking about myself. I don’t know what it means that Theo does, or why my heart stutters and stops in my chest.
“I guess not,” I tell him, biting down on my lip. “Ask me whatever you want.”
The statement surprises me, but I find I’m not scared at the prospect of answering any of his questions truthfully. His hand reaches for mine, intertwining our fingers and making goosebumps rise on my skin from the contact. He sets the car on cruise control but keeps one hand on the wheel. Then he turns his head and meets my eyes. I turn my body slightly to the left to better face him.
“Okay.” He nods idly, but his tone doesn’t fool me for a second. “How often does my brother insert himself into your love life?” There’s no lead-up to this question, making me believe it’s something that’s been on his mind for a while.
I groan into the leather seat, but Theo just laughs. “Quite a bit.” My words are clipped, but that doesn’t stop Theo from asking more intrusive questions.
“And you let him?”
“He’s one of my closest friends. It wouldn’t be any different from Angela telling me what she thinks of the guys I’m dating.” Though to be fair, Angela’s never been quite as judgmental about any of them as much as Ben.
“Angela, the best friend?”
“Yup.” I nod, pouncing on the diversion. “We met in college, the only two English majors who hate Shakespeare. We caused quite a stir, the two of us.” He laughs at that. “You’ve actually met her before. She was at brunch a few years ago when Ben and Alice first moved in together.”
“Oh!” He exclaims. “Is she the one who flirted with the waiter for free mimosas?”
“That’s the one.” I smile at the memory. “And no, she hasn’t changed at all since.”
“I think I’d like to meet this girl again. See you two in your element.” He squeezes my hand. I’m about to respond with a “sure” and a shrug, but a sudden thought stops me. A few days ago, I told him we’d figure out what this thing between us is before we decide what to tell people. But if we’re nothing more than casual, meeting my friends feels like crossing a boundary into exclusive territory. Besides, what would be the point if we’re not going to be in each other’s lives for very long?
“We’ll see,” I finally say.
“That means no,” Theo says, letting out a puff of air. I’m about to tell him otherwise, since I’m still not sure if it’s a lie, when he says, “Why don’t you want me to meet your best friend, Marce?”
I nearly choke on nothing but air. “Marce?” I repeat, covering my mouth.
“Yeah, why not?” he asks, voice light. “You don’t like it?”
First, he asks to meet my best friend, and now he’s giving me cute nicknames. No. I shake my head. Not cute.
He’s being way too casual about serious relationship milestones. If this non-relationship is going to work the way we want it to, we need to set some boundaries. The last thing either of us needs is another person to pine after.
I drop his hand and turn forward in my seat. I can’t make out his expression in the dark, but concern radiates off him.
“I think we should come up with a couple of ground rules,” I say, sitting up straighter in my seat. “You know, for the whole rebound-fling thing.”
“Okay, sure.” He sits up straight as well, and then takes the car off cruise control. His gaze refocuses out the windshield, and I’m able to breathe easier with his eyes off me. “Like what?”
“We keep our relationship separate from our regular life,” I say. “No meeting each other’s friends or family. I feel like that could blur some lines.”
“I can see that,” he says with a shrug. “Except you already know my family. How does that work for your friendship with my brother?”
This rule works out perfectly, because it’ll force me to keep much-needed distance from Ben. I thought if I could get over him, with a rebound or otherwise, I’d be able to stay friends with him. But as each day with Theo passes, the less I believe that’s actually possible. I need to keep my distance from Ben if I have any hope of getting over him. And after our fight, now I have a reason to avoid him.
“He told me to stop seeing you.” I look down at my hands, because if I look at him now, even his shadowed expression might make me hesitate to get this out. “There wasn’t a question anywhere in his phrasing, or even a shadow of a doubt that I would fight him. It’s unfair that he thinks he can have a say in my love life. That stops right now. I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow about it, and then there will be no more Ben interfering in our rebound-ship.”
He nods at this, mouth pulling up slightly at my made-up word. “Glad to hear it.”
“Great. Now, the nickname…”
“What? I can’t even get a nickname in?” He puts a hand to his chest, pouting. “I’m hurt, Marce.”
“It feels too… relationship-y.” I shake my head. “Next thing you know, I’ll be calling you my Theo-bear, and who wants that?”
He blinks twice. “I think we can both come up with something a little better than ‘Theo-bear.’”
I throw out my hands. “So not the point!”
“Hey, I get it!” He holds up one of his in surrender. “I can see why you’d want to put up some boundaries. You don’t want to get hurt, or for any feelings to creep in. But isn’t the whole point of a rebound to prove you’re still capable of having those feelings for someone else?”
“Yeah, but…” Try as I might, I don’t have an argument for that. But that doesn’t mean I like the idea of it.
Outside the passenger window, we drive past the San Antonio city limits sign. I can make out the glowing lights of the Hemisfair Tower in the distance, always the first sign of home. Twenty minutes later, Theo drives into the parking lot of the Whataburger two streets down from my apartment. I order a Double Meat, too hungry to be any kind of self-conscious. He doesn’t even bat an eye at my order, but he does make a hassle about who gets to pay, handing over his card before I can pull out my wallet from my purse.
“Consider it a thank-you for today,” he says as we sit down at a table. “You saved my ass. And… I like spending time with you.” His smile is shy, and something cold inside me starts to thaw.
“I do, too,” I confess, though I can’t quite meet his eyes. “Listen. We’re both dealing with our own stuff, so why don’t we keep this simple?” He rests his chin in his hand, leaning forward in interest. “You could call us… I don’t know. Damaged friends with benefits.”
He chokes on his drink, an ill-timed laugh that makes him snort up his Dr Pepper. I laugh way harder than necessary as he wipes his nose with a napkin.
“Unqualified therapy sessions on the couch that lead to other kind of sessions in the sheets,” I continue when he’s finished wiping his nose of soda and snot. I waggle my brows suggestively.
“You’re a dork,” he says thickly. “And I don’t get to be your unqualified therapist nearly enough for that label to apply.”
“We also haven’t had a proper other-kind-of session yet.” I bite down on my bottom lip. His eyes flick down to them, heat flooding his gaze like he wants to change that fact. He’s not the only one. “But there’s always time to change that.”
“Yeah, cuz there’s nothing sexier than when your damaged friend with benefits snorts up his soda.” He smiles wryly, covering his face with a hand.
“Or when she scarfs down a Double Meat cheeseburger in record time,” I add. “We’re both far beyond modesty at this point, but maybe that’s the point. We’ll have to do something to kill the attraction later.”
“What’s so bad about eating?” he asks without a single hint of sarcasm. His brows crease like he’s genuinely confused. I can’t contain my smile. When I shake my head, he lets it go and returns to the topic at hand. “You do know there’s nothing simple about our situation, don’t you? Forcing it to be simple isn’t a solution.”
“I know. But—”
“I can’t promise to never have feelings for you.” Whatever I was about to say dies in my throat as he continues. “All I can promise is to always be honest with you. So, here’s something I haven’t told you yet.”
Our eyes meet and lock across the table. I’m pulled into those indigo depths, frozen still.
“I like you. I like getting to know you, no matter how hard you make it. I like the way you force me to open up and that you still offered your friendship after witnessing two of the lowest points of my life. You’re a good person—a much better person than I can ever hope to be. You deserve so much better than a man who’s still pining over someone else, and when the day comes that you walk away from me for good, I’ll be cheering you on. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you’ll find someone just as amazing as you one day. So, if all I am is a stop to you finding him, then I’m okay with that.”
I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. My heart is full to the brim, bursting at the seams with what can only end in heartbreak. I don’t feel like the person he’s describing. Not even close. Me, a better person than him? When I’m pining for his brother and lying to him by withholding the truth? I shake my head and look away from his eyes. In what world could that possibly be true? When I look back at him, he wears a soft smile, just for me. I return it, but I’m sure it comes out watery.
“You’re gonna find someone great, too,” I tell him, and no words I say to him could be truer than these. “Alice has no idea what she missed out on.”
He smiles sadly, looking down at his empty burger wrapper. There isn’t much left to say, so we head out. When he drops me off at my apartment, the air is thick with our silence. As much as I want to invite him inside and get a start on our other kind of sessions, I’m exhausted and gross feeling from spending the full day inside a car. My muscles are stiff, and my clothes are undoubtedly sweaty despite the blast of the air conditioner.
“Tomorrow?” I ask, heat in my gaze.
“Crap.” His eyes shut, and disappointment slumps both our shoulders. “I’m meeting with the movers tomorrow. Did I tell you I finally found an apartment here?”
“You did not. That’s amazing!” I jump up to hug him. “Next weekend?” I ask, raising a suggestive brow.
“Maybe sooner, if we can manage it.” His voice is low and husky.
He crosses the space between us, kissing me slowly. His hand rests at the nape of my neck, warming my skin chilled by the night air. When we pull apart, we linger in the space between our breaths.
“Goodnight, Marcela.”