Fifteen
On Tuesday morning, Ben texts asking if I’ve thought any more about what we discussed. It takes me a moment to remember what he’s talking about, and when I do, I roll my eyes. I stare at his message on my lock screen as I think about how to respond. No, I clearly haven’t thought much at all about what Ben said. And no, I don’t plan to stop seeing his brother just because he told me to. I end up leaving the notification on my phone in favor of getting ready for the day.
I’m stuck in the fiction shelves for most of the day, shelving books I through L. It’s work I haven’t done since I was an aide, but I don’t mind it. I need the solitary time to get my thoughts in order. Protective Ben is the closest I’ve ever gotten to a Jealous Ben. And for years, I’ve let him insert himself into my love life. All in hopes that one day, he’d tell me the real reason he thought those guys weren’t good enough was because he was the only one for me.
I always thought I walked a fine line between wishful thinking and delusional, but now I’m starting to think I was just straight-up delusional the entire time. I’m glad I’ve chosen to mostly keep my feelings for Ben to myself. I’d die of embarrassment if anyone, other than Angela, knew he was an actual, honest-to-God desire of mine.
But it’s good that I’m finally seeing these baseless desires for what they are. I’m on the verge of a turning point, and I suppose I have Theo’s magnetism to thank. There’s no thrill in Ben’s sudden agitation over me dating his brother, no rush of satisfaction to see him so on edge over who I’m seeing. It’s not an attractive look, and I can’t believe I ever thought differently.
On my lunch break, I catch Angela up on the Dallas trip in the uber-long Whataburger drive-thru line, leaving out a few minor details she doesn’t need to know. It’s not that she would judge me if I slept with Theo, but I’d rather she not know my most recent method for coping with my feelings for an engaged man. Feelings that are slowly but surely fading into dust.
She’s not surprised that Ben blatantly asked me to stop seeing his brother, but I’m still rattled by it. It’s clear to me now that I’ve always been quick to listen to Ben over myself, for better or worse. Now I wonder if my response would be any different if Theo and I actually were dating. Because I in no way plan on ending what Theo and I have before it can even begin.
Our conversation is interrupted by a call on my car’s Bluetooth screen. Alice’s name flashes like a warning sign. I’m tempted to hit ignore, but Angela says, “Go ahead.” She’s leaning eagerly in her seat, eyes locked on me in a way I don’t like at all. But I don’t have much of a choice.
“Hello?”
“Marcela, hey!” Alice’s voice chirps an octave higher than usual. I’ve been with her to enough sorority functions to recognize her damage-control voice. “Ben told me about this weekend. Seems like you and Theo are getting serious.”
I freeze for a moment, unsure what to say. Angela lifts a perfectly arched brow at me, as if wondering how deep a hole I’ve dug for myself.
Deep enough.
“Um, yeah, I guess?” I shake my head before finding my grounding. “Not sure how serious a week and a half constitutes, but we’re still going strong, if that’s what you’re asking.” My reply is vague enough, but I’m not sure how far I should be taking this facade. Although Theo never seems to mind when I take control of our narrative.
“For Theo, it’s as serious as he gets,” she says with a laugh. I wince, reminded all over again of Theo’s past with women. A part of me still can’t believe he’s never been serious about anyone other than Alice, and that to him no one will ever be able to measure up. Not that I have a right to have any sort of feelings about that. There are no promises between us.
“But anyway, since you two are still together, I think we should all go out next Saturday,” Alice continues.
My mouth opens, but not a single sound comes out.
“And before you think of a way out of it—because I know that’s exactly what you’re doing right now—please think about it.” It’s such a deeply Alice thing to say. Freshman year, she was always quick to spot my avoidant tendencies. “Theo and Ben have some serious mending to do in their relationship. See if you can get through to Theo, and I’ll see about getting through to Ben.”
I don’t know what makes her think I’d be able to do that. “I-I’m not sure I’m the right person to do that. You’ve known them both for years—”
“That’s part of the problem,” Alice admits, and my curiosity is piqued. I’m almost on the brink of a breakthrough, but the pieces I have don’t quite fit yet. Does she know about Theo’s feelings for her, even though I didn’t let him confess them at her engagement party? But instead of confirming my brand-new suspicions, she says, “They know all my tricks. Consequences of knowing someone for practically your entire life. But he trusts you. You can get through
to Theo.”
I highly doubt that, not that I can tell her as much. In the end, I agree to try even though I already know Theo’s not going to like this.
I definitely don’t like this.
Theo is more than eager to come over after work, but I’m sure he won’t feel that way for long once I tell him about my phone call with Alice. He’s wearing a jean jacket with black pants and a tight-fitting gray T-shirt, blond hair perfectly swept back from his face. A white takeout bag hangs from one hand, which he hands to me as he walks through the door. He kisses my cheek as he passes me, a sweet gesture that has no business making my heart race.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he tells me. “I got Indian food, hope that’s okay.”
I open the plastic bag in the kitchen, the smell of curry and fresh naan wafting from the containers. My stomach grumbles in approval. “It’s perfect.” I smile at the irony. Theo can’t read my thoughts, but he grins back anyway.
As he rummages through my cabinets for plates and I turn on the TV, I can’t help but note the domestic picture the two of us make. Boyfriend picks up takeout and visits girlfriend at her place after work. Boyfriend searches girlfriend’s apartment for kitchen utensils as girlfriend browses for something good to watch on Netflix. Boyfriend and girlfriend sit side by side on the couch in front of the TV, spooning basmati rice and chicken tikka masala into their mouths. Repeat once a week, strategically swapping the type of takeout depending on general mood of the apartment (Thai for rainy days, pizza for lazy days, Mexican for celebratory events), until the end of time. Or until, you know, they break up or get married.
I can even picture how the night ends. Girlfriend spooks boyfriend by making him go out on a double date with his brother and the girl they’re both in love with. Boyfriend-shaped hole in the wall is all that remains of him now.
“By the way,” he says after a thick swallow. “I got the coaching job.”
“You did?” I turn until my whole body faces him. He nods, smiling shyly. “Theo, that’s amazing!”
I go for a hug when he sets his food down, but end up jumping him in my excitement. He lets out a surprised laugh as we both end up sprawled in a diagonal position on the couch, legs tangling. A bloom of insecurity fills my chest at having knocked over a former NFL player so easily, but he puts me at ease by kissing the top of my head. His hands tangle in my hair, fingers brushing the nape of my neck. When my skin heats, it’s for a totally different reason.
“Are you excited?” I prop myself up with an elbow, looking down at him. “I know you weren’t sure this was the route you wanted to go down.”
“I don’t know.” He plays with my hair, the waterfall of dark curls that trail down his chest. “The head coach told me a little about the group of guys, and that got me excited. I forgot what that kind of passion for the game felt like. When it wasn’t a dream I fought everything to chase, or a job that was easily swept away from me at the first injury.”
“Would it pain you to know I never got much into football?”
His eyes whip up to meet mine. When he raises himself, I’m forced to sit up away from him. “How is that possible? You live in Texas!” The accusation doesn’t land. I just stare up at him blankly.
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
He heaves a sigh, shaking his head. “We’ll have to do something to remedy this.” When my face twists into something like distaste, his mouth falls open in shock. “Marcela!”
“Do we have to?” I remember that I haven’t even told him about Alice yet and decide to relent before I’m forced to break his heart all over again. “Okay, fine.” It comes out as a grumble, but he pumps his fist in victory.
“So, Alice called today,” I say once we’ve finished eating, because I have to start somewhere. He looks over with a neutral expression I don’t buy for a second. Funny how he’s only good at lying when he wants to be. “She wants us to go on a double date with her and Ben next weekend.”
Theo’s entire demeanor changes in an instant. “Absolutely not.” His shoulders tense and his jaw locks so tight he could crack walnuts with his teeth. He looks away from me, but not before I catch how his brows pinch together.
“I know it’ll probably be awkward.” He rolls his eyes in a way that seems to say, awkward doesn’t begin to cover it.
“Isn’t this against one of your rules?” he asks, reminding me of the conversation we had on our way back from Dallas. “We agreed not to get involved with each other’s friends and families. Or is it only okay as long as it’s not your family?”
Ouch.
He’s not wrong about that, no matter how much the truth stings. I’m tempted to fold the way he wants me to, to text Alice that I tried but it’s not happening, to salvage the night I’ve nearly ruined. But I have that same twitchy, guilty feeling that tells me I owe Alice anything she asks of me, which makes me push harder.
“Hey, I don’t like this either. We’re supposed to finally have all the sex everyone thinks we’re having.” His expression softens a bit at that, the edge of his mouth curling slightly upward. “Look, I know you and Ben aren’t exactly speaking, but don’t you want to change that? Don’t you want to have a relationship with your brother again?”
He attempts a shrug, but his shoulders barely move. Theo still won’t look at me, and I’m getting the sense that there’s something much deeper going on.
“Is there something else you’re not telling me?” I ask. “Is there some other reason why you don’t want to do this?”
He heaves a sigh, head turning to face me. His eyes have lost their hardness, but I can still sense him hesitating. Choosing his words carefully in his mind before he speaks them. The same way I do, right before I lie through my teeth.
“No,” he finally says. “Just petty rivalries we never apologized for.”
“Well.” I push a strand of hair back from my face.
“You’ve gotta bury those hatchets at some point. Why not now?”
Another sigh escapes him. “If it’s that important to you, then fine.”
I’m not sure I’d describe it that way, especially when I have as much reason to dread going as him. Not that he knows that. Would fessing up make things better or worse for him? On the one hand, maybe he’ll feel less alone to know I’m in the exact same position as him. We can lean on each other even more. Talk through our feelings in an honest way. Support each other when our damned emotions knock us down to our lowest moments.
But on the other hand, I’ve already kept my feelings secret from him for this long. If I tell him now, would he see it as a betrayal? Maybe he never would’ve agreed to this stunt in the first place if he knew how I felt about Ben. How I still feel. Will he think differently of me if he knows? See me for the hypocrite I undoubtedly am?
I’ve most likely landed myself a first-class ticket to hell for not telling him sooner. So, why start now?
There’s a palpable tension in the air for the rest of the night. We don’t touch, not even our knees, as we watch the TV in silence. I hold my breath for what feels like hours, as if afraid to make any sudden movements. Until the credits roll, and he rises from his seat. When he reaches for his jacket, everything in me deflates.
He’s leaving.
“Do you have to go so soon?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound as hurt as I feel. “We’ve still got a whole queue of bad movies to talk through.” And an entire box of unopened condoms sitting in my nightstand drawer, but I’m trying not to come off too strong. Maybe enough time has passed that he’s changed his mind on our whole arrangement, but he did kiss my cheek when he entered my apartment. But was it a friendly cheek kiss or a friends-with-benefits cheek kiss?
“I just need to clear my head.” His hand reaches the doorknob, but he hesitates and takes one last look at me. He lets out a sigh with his entire body. “Don’t pout. You’re making it harder for me to leave.”
Then don’t.
“I’m not pouting.” I’m definitely pouting.
“I don’t want to disappoint you.” The teasing tone is gone from his voice. “I just need some time to think about all this.”
“I hear you.” I nod. “Tonight’s not a good night.” I force myself to sound understanding, but inside I’m hollowed out. I’ve ruined our night before it could even really begin. And now, as I watch his back as he leaves my apartment, I can’t help but wonder if he’s rethinking our arrangement, too.