Page 94 of Romance Is Dead

“Oh, Quinn.” Teddy pulled me against his chest, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I know we haven’t talked about what this is between the two of us, but I promise, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to. I’ll be here while you figure it out, if you want me to be. No matter what you decide to do.”

I wasn’t ready to talk about what we were. All I knew was that I was happier when I was with him, and that I wanted to learn everything about how to make him feel the same way, and that he made me feel more ok with myself than I could remember. . . ever. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. But I think I wanted it to be with him.

Not that I was ready to tell him that.

I squeezed his hand, sitting up on the mattress. “Thank you.” I leaned in to kiss him, trying to telegraph with my touch all the things my heart was feeling but wasn’t ready to say. “I’m going to get dressed and go get us some coffee.”

“I don’t like coffee.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I pulled away, ready to take it all back.

He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “It makes me jittery.”

“That’s why decaf exists!”

“Why would I force myself to drink bitter-ass bean juice if it’s not even going to make me feel anything?”

“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes as I climbed out of bed, looking for my clothes. “What do you want then?”

He looked pointedly at my naked torso.

I threw a pillow at him.

“Ok, fine. Just get me a tea or something.”

“Do you actually like tea?”

“No.”

“You’re hopeless.”

After a quick shower in Teddy’s room and a sprint into my ransacked room to change into clean clothes, I stopped at the small coffee shop two blocks from the hotel, ordering a chai tea for Teddy and a latte for me.

As I waited, the bell above the door tinkled with another customer. It was Mara, decked out in a rose-pink vintage dress and large, dark sunglasses. Without acknowledging me, she approached the counter and placed her order. Walking across the room, she decided to wait as far away from me as possible.

Ah. So the news about the production hadn’t done anything to endear me to her. I moved closer, until I was just within earshot.

“Did you see Natasha’s email?” I tried.

“Yes.” She remained focused on the counter, not even looking at me.

“Crazy, huh?”

“Yep.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I’m going to stop you.” Mara removed her sunglasses, finally looking at me. “I know this year hasn’t been great for you, but I let you crash on my floor, I’ve done everything I could to be there for you, and now you’ve ditched me for some guy—who you allegedly don’t even like—and I still feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just—”

Mara held up a hand, stopping me. “I love you, but I can’t be friends with you if you’re not honest with me. You know,” her voice wavered, “I’ve really needed you lately. And you haven’t been there.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“But I tried to tell you, didn’t I?” The barista called her name, and Mara walked over to retrieve her drink. “When we get back to LA, you have a week to get out of my apartment. And don’t expect me to help you move your creepyBabadooksculpture. Bye, Quinn.”

Then she replaced her sunglasses and was gone.

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