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“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.
