Audrey, who could laugh offhundreds of millions of dollarsin a trust fund, was the kind of person who was going to marry Theo. Hell, even Corey wasn’t really good enough for him, judging by the way Mrs. Hargrave was reacting to him marrying Delilah.
The knot in my stomach crawled up my throat, making it impossible to say anything. That was fine—what was there to say? We all knew the truth.
“Let’s worry aboutthiswedding first,” Mrs. Hargrave said. “And let the future remain unmarred by speculation.”
Unmarred by speculation. I’d have to remember that one.
Corey made a less-than-thrilled sound, taking his arm away from my shoulders but nudging my elbow as he did. “C’mon. Standing around’s making me nervous,” he said. “Give my love to Delilah, Mom! Can’t wait to see her.”
20
THEO
“So,”Madelaine said as she perched in the empty space Simon had left beside me, a mug of black coffee clasped between her hands. “I hear rumors about last night.”
I licked the last of the croissant crumbs off my fingers to give myself time to process that.
“Delilah’s complaining to everyone who’ll listen to her that you woke her up having sex with Simon,” Madelaine continued.
Great. I’d known she would, but some part of me had held out hope that she wouldn’t.
Simon would’ve reminded me that she wouldn’t have thought she was doing anything wrong. We were, as far as she was concerned, dating. We’d let everyone believe that. Encouraged them.
We’d also let everyone believe we’d had loud, enthusiastic make-up sex the previous night.
“Tell her I’ll get her a pair of earplugs,” I mumbled, drawing my knees up to my chest and looping my arms around them.
Madelaine snorted.
Silence fell between us for just long enough that I thoughtmaybeshe’d dropped the subject when she drew a breath to speak again.
“So I figured the night after your big fight was faked,” Madelaine said. “Itsoundedfake.”
“It was,” I admitted. There was no point lying about it. Madelaine wasn’t stupid, and she already knew Simon and I had been faking all of it.
Had been. Were? Was it still…
“But this morning…?”
I looked away from her, hiding my cheek against my arm so she wouldn’t see me blushing.
Unfortunately, the way she gasped suggested she didn’t need to see the blush to know it was there.
“Oh myGod,” Madelaine whispered—thankfully—putting a hand on my shoulder. “For real?”
I turned my face back to her, resting the other cheek against my other arm, hugging my legs a little tighter.
When Simon had still been here, I’d been okay. Now that he wasn’t, I couldn’t stop thinking about whathewas thinking, or how he might be feeling, or what he wanted or expected ordidn’twant or expect.
I was scared I’d screwed everything up permanently and Simon would realize the moment I was out of his sight.
Madelaine ducked her head to look me in the eyes. I sighed, and nodded.
“Last night,” I confessed. “And this morning. Twice.”
“Wow.” Madelaine clutched her coffee again, raising it to her mouth to take a tiny sip. “At least you know he’s got stamina.”
My lips twitched despite the lead weight of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. “He’s hung, too.”
