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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?”
