“Nothing, just gossip in the Eden group chat.” It sounds like she’s dismissing my question, but she then continues unprompted. “Just that, last week, Gael hooked up with that girl Oliver Campisi cheated on — she’s in town apparently.”
She says it so casually that I don’t quite process thewords until my mind finally catches up, and it suddenly feels like I’m going to puke up my own heart.
“Connie?” I croak.
My jeans are still unbuttoned as I stare at her dumbfoundedly for half a second too long.
Selina’s eyes narrow as if reading my body language.
“Yeah, Connie Broadbent … you know her?”
When I realize my slip-up, I quickly smooth away the shock from my face and look down as I finish buttoning up my jeans.
“Yeah — I mean not really. She’s just a family friend.”
Who I fucked over a bathroom sink at my brother’s engagement party last year.
I look up just in time to see Selina’s suspicion turn into excitement.
“Oh my god, really? Can you introduce me?”
“What? No,” I mutter, feeling flustered. “Why?”
She shoots me a prissy look and shrugs, looking back down at her phone. “Why not? You know she’s Instagram famous, right? She’s got like over a million followers, plus she datedtheOliver Campisi — I’d die to get a picture with her.”
We fall silent as she resumes typing on her phone, grinning and laughing under her breath. I itch to ask for more information on her latest work gossip.
Was it only once?
Are they still hooking up?
Why him and not me?
My thoughts make me sick, and anger soon surges through me like a deadly wave. Before I do or say something I regret, I find my t-shirt and hoodie and throw them on.
“I've got to go,” I say dryly.
Selina looks up, slightly surprised, her phone now hanging loosely from her hand.
“I thought we were going for brunch?”
“I just remembered I need to help my brother with something.”
It’s a flimsy excuse, but I don’t care.
Disappointment flashes across her face, but she conceals it quickly.
“Sure, okay,” she says quietly. “Call me later?”
I nod, forcing a smile, and leave without kissing her goodbye.
“Areyou stocking up for the apocalypse or something?” I hear Ozzy say from behind me.
I roll my eyes but don’t say anything as I place a log on the chopping block, my back still to him. After positioning the axe so the blade lines up with the center, I take a large swing over my head, splitting the log in two.
“I just needed to think,” I say, a little winded.
Ozzy approaches me from the left and surveys my work with an amused glint in his eyes.
