Page 81 of Love You, Mean It

“Just the basics. How we ‘met,’ what you do…”

“So he decided I’m some feral sex fiend because…why, exactly? I have a down-market job?”

“What? No!” Theo’s face twisted in disbelief. “I just said you kept me on my toes!”

“It makes sense.” Shame was heating my skin even more effectively than Theo had just minutes before. “Whyelsewould you go after someone like me, right?”

“Ellie, don’t get this way.”

“Whatway?”

“All…defensive.” Theo rolled his eyes, slowly tugging his pants up. “Paul’s always been a douche, it’s just…him,okay?”

“Would he call Sam that?”

“What? What does Sam have to do with it?”

“Or any of your other exes? Are any of themwildcats? Or does it make sense to him that you’d be with themwithoutweird assumptions about your sex life?”

“Ellie, where is this coming from?”

I thrust my arms into the blouse forcefully. Sex was exactly the wrong thing to do, I’dknownthat, and didn’t it just prove Paul right? I couldn’t even control myself long enough to make it home from dinner. Sam’s face in the mirror, genuine concern for me on every feature, flashed in front of my eyes, and I had to bite back a groan. I was screwing this up every chance I got.

“Just…take me home,” I spat, throwing the car door open and sliding into the front seat, awkwardly wriggling into my coat while I waited for Theo to dress. I folded my arms firmly across my chest, staring at the foggy interior of the windshield as he finally buckled in. He reached for my hand across the console, but I yanked it away.

“Hey,” he said, anxiety creeping in. “I’m sorry I said anything, okay? Paul was out of line.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered through a clenched jaw. “He’s not wrong. You’d needsomereason to be with someone like me.”

“I see plenty,” he said, voice low, as he started the car. A stupid wave of tenderness pulsed through me andFuck, this was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I dug my fingernails into the butts of my hands, trying to get ahold of myself. The goal wasn’t Theo, it hadneverbeen Theo. The goal was saving the deli. I’d let myself lose sight of it, possibly spike my last, best chance at it, tofuck him in the backseat of his car.

“Is that why he prefers Mangia? Because he thinks I’m…cheap?” I ground out.

“No one called you cheap, Ellie.”

“I may not speak rich person fluently, but I know you don’t call someone classy a fuckingwildcat.”

We were stopped at a light, and he glanced over, worry furrowing his strong brow, softening those absolutely perfect lips.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way just now. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Theo’s voice was so sorrowful, so guilty-sounding, that my chest tightened painfully, and I had to slip my hand beneath my thigh to keep myself from lifting it to his cheek, reassuring him with a touch.

But Sam wasn’t going to stand for my delaying things much longer—she’d already guessed things weren’t as casual as I’d made out, and there was no way I’d be able to sell the “We’re justreallygood actors” bit again. She’dsaidshe didn’t plan to run me out of business if I wasn’t willing to push her and Theo onto the path to happily ever after…but that was before I’d promised I would. And getting a good feeling about someone doesn’t mean you can guess how they’ll react. It would only take one careful, just-worried-enough remark in Cheryl’s ear to move everyone into Camp Mangia…

If I couldn’t rely on myself to maintain the boundaries, I had to enforce them some other way, otherwise mywildcatinstincts were going to tank this in spite of me.

“Listen,” Theo said as he pulled through the light, “Paul’s an ass, that’s established, but I still think he’ll see reason…”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. I had to do this for real,now,otherwise I might never be able to muster the strength.

“It’s not about Paul, Theo, it’s aboutyou.” His shoulders tensed visibly. We were barely a minute from my apartment, but part of me wondered whether it was wise to have started this conversation in a moving vehicle.

“What didIdo?” he said, voice low and even. His jaw gave away just how hard he was fighting to keep it that way.

This was it, the moment to tear off the Band-Aid, to put thetwo of us back where we belonged. My throat tightened traitorously and I forced myself to imagine the scornful expressions on the faces of the off-off-off-Broadway directors rejecting me, Paul’s superior sneer, Ted’s scorn when he more than implied I was a money-grubber—anything that could manufacture real anger.

“It’s what youhaven’tdone,” I said, frowning out the windshield to try to retrofit the emotion. “We’ve been doing this for weeks now, you keep trotting me out at parties and family dinners—which are miserable, by the way, I know I wasn’t raised by country club staff but I’m not some barely literate piece of trash.”

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