Rules of Play (The Script Club 2)
“Agreed. That logic applies to you and Aiden too, then…right?”
I promptly spit my coffee. No kidding. It was like something from a bad comedy skit.
“I’m sorry,” I choked, wiping whatever surface I’d sprayed.
“Ah, so I was right.”
I tried to decide if it was worth denying. Asher was too smart, and I’d obviously already cracked. Besides, it might be nice to get this off my chest.
I cast a wary glance toward the doorway, listening for sounds of approaching footsteps. On any given Tuesday morning, all five of us were up and getting ready for the day. The last thing I needed was an audience.
“You can’t say a word, Ash. I’m serious.”
“I won’t,” he promised in a hushed tone. “But why does it matter?”
“Because he’s…”
“Straight…ish?”
“He’s also one of Simon’s best friends.”
“So what? Simon sleeps with one of your best friends too. Call it even and move on,” he said with a careless shrug.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Hmm. He must be deep in the closet. Does he want to come out?”
“I don’t know. That’s up to him. He has to deal with it his way,” I insisted maturely.
“What about you?”
I wrapped my fingers around my mug and held it under my chin. “I’m not worried about me, Ash. It’s not forever. It’s only for now. And that’s why no one can know about it.”
“Know about what?” Topher asked, gliding into the kitchen.
“George was telling me about Newton’s dating journey,” Asher supplied when I didn’t answer right away.
“How is that going?” Topher poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. His curly brown hair fell over his right eye, giving him a boyish look.
“After almost a month of conversation, she said yes,” I reported. “He must have asked her yesterday. I’ll get the scoop after class.”
“Oh, do you need a ride?” Toph asked.
“No thanks. Aiden finished last night. Willy is working and…I may need to leave early,” I replied lamely.
“Well, have a good day. I’m off to shower, boys,” Asher announced, pointing at the table as he stood. “You need to clean the coffee you spilled, George. It’s all over.”
“Where?”
When I leaned in to examine the nonexistent spill, Asher sidled next to me. “Relax. You’re being weird again.”
I wiped at the clean surface and crumpled the napkin into a tight ball, casting an awkward smile at Topher when he sat in the chair Asher vacated.
“Will it make it easier if I tell you that I know?” he whispered.
“Did Asher—that little weasel!”
“No. I figured it out on my own. And no, I didn’t say anything to Simon.” He crossed his arms and sighed. “I don’t like keeping anything from him, but it’s not my story to tell.”
I nodded. “In a way, it’s not mine either.”
“Why not?”
“This is temporary, Toph. It’s not a big love story. He has work goals and things he wants to accomplish and…I do too. He’s curious. That’s all.”
Topher furrowed his brow. “You’re wrong about that. Or as Gran would say, you’re full of shit.”
I had to laugh. Topher never swore, and it sounded funny as hell to hear him quote his salty grandmother. “Thanks?”
“Look, I won’t speculate about his intentions or yours. It’s not my place. But from a purely observational standpoint, I think it’s pretty cool that you’re good friends. You know you can trust him.”
“Yes.” I sucked in a breath and exhaled immediately. “I trust you too. I’m sorry if I’ve been…distant. Or weird. Sometimes, I think too hard and worry about dumb things. The idea of one of my best friends marrying into my family seems too good to be true.”
Toph snort-laughed. “Simon hasn’t ask me to marry him.”
“He will someday. And I’ll be one thousand percent thrilled about it. I mean that.”
“Then do me a favor and stop acting like you think I’m going to turn every book on your bookshelf binder side in.”
I gasped in mock dismay. “You wouldn’t!”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’m on your team, George.”
“Oh, my God. You’re talking sports talk. This is what happens when your boyfriend is a jock,” I teased, ruffling his hair as I stood.
Topher dodged me good-naturedly and joined me at the kitchen window. He nudged my arm as he peered out at my newly-fixed Bronco. “For what it’s worth, I like Aiden for you.”
“Me too.”
“She said yes,” Newton stage-whispered in the break room later that afternoon.
“I saw your message.” I stepped away from the group of engineers chatting at a nearby table as I twisted the top off a water bottle. “That’s great.”
He adjusted his glasses, then straightened the collar on his crisp white shirt. “I asked her right here in this room. Point-blank, no pussyfooting about. I tossed the speech I’d written, took your boyfriend’s advice, and said, ‘Would you like to go out with me sometime?’ It worked!”
I ignored the BF comment and smiled. “Congrats. So…when are you going out?”