Page 55 of Friends with Benefits

Sister?

“We met at EdCon,” Violet says, then turns to Theo. “What… three, four years ago?”

“Four,” Theo confirms.

Metis the lite, elementary-school-teacher-appropriate way of sayinghooked upat the educational conference Theo attends on behalf of Foothill Elementary. Every summer, he spends the first week of August at a conference center in Santa Ana attending curriculum workshops and debating policy and reading legislation, and he loves his kids—hedoes—but that week surrounded by educators who are just as passionate about making the system better as he is? It’s always so restorative. As is—was—casual sex with Violet Garcia, a former fourth-grade teacher, now vice principal in Long Beach.

“Small world,” Juniper says.

“Are you here for the tournament?” Theo asks.

A stupid question, considering Juniper and Violet are in matching pink tracksuits.

“Agatha is in labor. Joey’s assisting with the birth,” Juniper explains.

Cool.

Violet is only here becausean elephant is giving birth.

“Congratulations?” Violet asks, eyes once again on the ring, that single word a challenge because the last first week of August is a recent memory. Just three months ago, she texted Theo her room number and he showed up with veggie pizza and a six-pack of Blue Moon. He hears the question mark.Have I been screwing a married man?

Theo stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Thanks.”

Juniper smiles at him and either he’s reading way too much into Violet’s energy or Juniper is choosing to ignore it. “Newlywed looks good on you, Cohen.”

“I think so, too. Hey, Juniper.”

Evelyn is back at his side, looping her arm through his.

“Ev, this is Juniper’s sister. Violet,” Theo says, gently squeezing her freezing fingers because she knows about his initial, ridiculous puppy-dog crush. Even helped him craft the texts that Violet ultimately left on read four years ago after he returned from EdCon not at all ready for a commitment, but all-in on a gorgeous (and, more important,safe) distraction.

Yes, that Violet.

Be nice.

Evelyn lets go of his hand, holding it out to Violet. “Evie. His wife.”

Violet wraps her perfectly manicured hand around Evelyn’s, whose nails are chipped blue and bitten down to the quick, and everything in Theo’s conflict-averse core screamsrun. Really, is sucking up to his boss worththis?

“Veronica roped you into the tournament, too?” Juniper asks, still oblivious.

Theo nods.

“Cool.”

“How long have you been a pickler?” Violet asks.

“Oh, it’s—”

Evelyn bumps his hip with hers, effectively silencing him. “We don’t give intel to the competition, Theodore.”

Violet points at Theo with her paddle. “Okay, don’t tell me.Show me.”

Theo flushes, that rasp, theinnuendo, taking him back to that hotel room in Santa Ana. “Actually—”

Evelyn cuts Theo off. “You’re on.”

Juniper and Violet laugh, clueless as to how serious Evelyn is right now. Only Theo sees the tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows, feels the intensity radiating from her skin, hears the competitive edge in her voice. It’s more confident than she has any right to be. The same fearless tone she’d have in the dance studio before leaping into a new stunt, so sure that Theo would catch her. After extended held eye contact with Violet, Evelyn pivots and claims a quadrant of the court, gripping her right ankle for a standing quad stretch—and because Theo’s watching her, always watching her—he clocks her almost imperceptible wince. It activates an internal alarm, a visceral panic, that screams:

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