Page 114 of Mr. Swoony

“Did you say bob?”

“Eloise, do you need Q-tips? You’re not hearing anything I’m saying.” Kyleigh brings her cup to her mouth while I think about the girl from Peeper’s. She had a bob and was a brunette. Could it be a coincidence? I’m not sure.

“You know what, I forgot that I need some vanilla and completely forgot to pick it up.” I wipe my hands on the dish towel and go over to the coat hook to grab my jacket and purse.

“Oh, I have some vanilla at our place.” She slides off the stool.

Of course she does.

“I need fresh vanilla beans. I’m supposed to scrape it out.” I hate lying to her, but I don’t want to seem like her brother’s psycho girlfriend either. I could be wrong, and the interviewer just has the same style as the girl who keeps popping up around Conor. And maybe I misunderstood Conor’s text earlier.

“Well, I’m happy to go with.” She walks to the front door, and I open it.

“It’s okay. I’ll be quick. Thanks for the coffee.” I run back and grab it, following her out the door.

She ascends a few steps and looks at me again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem off.”

I shake my head. “I’m just mad at myself. I really wanted the cake to be iced and ready for Conor when he got home. Sorry to rush you out.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Call me later.”

“I will.” I’ve already turned around and am heading down the stairs, still putting one arm in my coat sleeve.

Outside the security gate, there’s a new sign for the Nest, and I tear it down, tossing it in the trash can on my way down the street toward Beans. Ten minutes later, I peek in through the window of the coffee shop, but I can’t see anything, so I’m left with no choice but to go inside.

I slide in behind a tall guy who looks over his shoulder at me a few times. I peek up and wave. “Just surprising someone. Sorry.”

I slide behind a column, and the people doctoring their coffees at the counter all watch me. I peer around the corner, and sure enough, Conor’s at a table with her. Unless the woman he told me was just a fan also works for SportsVerse, he lied to me.

My veins heat with anger. I take a moment to collect myself, but trying to rationalize it in my head is impossible because I keep circling back to the fact that he lied to me. If this were months ago, and it were Tristan I caught, I’d probably rush out of here without making myself known. But not anymore.

“Fuck this,” I mumble and round the column, heading over to the table.

She sees me first and reaches forward, placing her hand on his wrist. A veil of red lowers over my eyes, and I come to a stop beside the table.

“Hi, Conor.” I cross my arms, glaring at her hand on his wrist.

He follows my vision and retracts his arm, making her hand fall to the table. “Eloise, what are you doing here?”

He’s seriously going to ask me that? “I was just seeing how your interview was going.” I eye the woman.

“Interview? Sweetie, I told you to just tell her the truth,” the brunette says.

Conor stands, blocking me from her view and clasping my elbow. “Let’s go home and talk.”

I wrench my arm from his grip. “I don’t need to talk. Who is she?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“I’m his girlfriend and was before you slid in during our breakup.”

“What?” Conor whips his head around. “We were never a couple.”

I step around him so I can get another look at this woman.

“Oh stop lying, Pinkie, we were together back in Florida,” she coos.

Conor closes his eyes. “She’s lying.”

I find it weird she uses his hockey nickname, but whatever. “You were supposed to be at the gym right now.”

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