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I brushed the neat edges of my laptop. “No, I don’t, Gwen.”
Her gown was flair from below the waist and a bit cinched at the waist. Her makeup also was minimal— nude— matching the brown outfit.
“Why did the scarecrow win an award?”
I raised a brow. Gwen needed to know I wasn’t in the mood for games. “Gwen, I—”
“Because he was outstanding in his field.”
She breezed to my table with an air of pride. The dryness of her joke still hung in the air.
“Another one.” She held a finger up before taking her seat on the opposite side of the table.
“Why don’t scientists trust atoms?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. Why not let’s start with why I don’t trust you.
“Because they make up everything,” she grinned.
Hahaha. Just like you did.
“Gwen, now’s really not the time.” I shook my head, wondering if she’d seen the news.
She huffed. “You sound like you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not. I’m not mad, Gwen,” I sighed.
“Just overwhelmed,” she completed for me.
“Yea…”
My words stretched the silence. I wondered why she was here.
“But you do know if you want to date my brother, you’d have to—”
“Whoa, whoa. Gwen, please, slow down.”
After she told me she knew I was fucking her brother and I clarified that I wasn’t, she brushed the topic under the rug.
I’d been glad to be a bit free. But now I wasn’t so sure it was freedom.
She obviously was still carrying the narrative that I was interested in her brother.
Aren’t I?
“So you’re not?” Her eyes were wide and probing. Did her brother know she was here?
“I’m not.”
Even if I were interested in him, it wouldn’t work out. This media-ish situation was proof enough.
Plus, I wasn’t interested beyond lust, so…
“Are you sure?”
I met her narrowed gaze with mine.
Did she know something I didn't?
