Page 86 of Rumor Has It

Molly nodded. “Of course.” She took Wren’s phone and snapped a few photos of them all scrunched into the booth together.

Without thinking or worrying about it, Wren quickly set one of the photos as her lock screen. Rebecca squeezed her leg under the table. “Send that to me?”

“Oh, me too,” Linda said.

“Can we just start an extended family group chat?” Barbara asked.

Molly was already in the Eames family group chat. She’d been an honorary member for years. Her kids called Wren’s dad Uncle Willie and everything. But Rebecca didn’t know that. Wren noticed Rebecca’s eyes water just for a second before she melted into the happiest smile.

They hadn’t talked much about her family after she’d been forced out of the closet, but Wren knew her own family’s warm, welcome embrace probably meant the world to her. Rebecca nodded, her movements a little jerky and unsure. Wren leaned into her a little more fully, hoping to provide some subtle comfort.

“Yeah,” Rebecca said, clearing her throat. “I would love to join.”

“It could have been worse,” Wren said, turning her head to press a kiss to Rebecca’s cheek. The barrage of photos that had been taken of them the day before had officially hit the internet. They’d been clipped with some screen caps of their live and some photos of them from their soccer game—notably when they exchanged jerseys after the match.

Rebecca’s arms tightened around Wren’s waist. “You’re right,” she said softly, reading the article over Wren’s shoulder. “It absolutely could have been.” She kissed down Wren’s bare shoulder. After their trip to In-N-Out, the rest of the Eames family headed to a hotel, while Wren and Rebecca headed back to Wren’s place. Now, in the quiet of the following morning, Wren and Rebecca had their first opportunity to lay in bed with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Technically, Wren had a cooldown practice at noon and Rebecca had a flight back to North Carolina later in the day, but for a happy, blissful moment, they could just stay tangled in each other’s arms and hope that everything else would turn out okay.

“We should do this more,” Wren whispered, putting her phone down on her bedside table and rolling over to face her girlfriend.

“Which thing, Wrensandra?”

Wren snorted. “That one made no sense.”

Rebecca shrugged, a lazy smile pulling up the edges of her lips. “It made you laugh though.” She tucked a strand of Wren’s hair back behind her ear, and Wren’s breath caught in throat.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Wren said, leaning in for a kiss. “When do I get to see you again?” She asked when they broke apart.

“Hmmm,” Rebecca hummed while she thought. “If we don’t get kicked off the National Team via email later today…in a week?” She paused, thinking. “Yeah, for our match against Portugal in Atlanta.”

“I don’t want to even think about that,” Wren groaned. “A week is too far away.” She huffed. “I already miss you.”

Rebecca chuckled. “Courtney teased me for how fast us lesbians seem to move, and here we are, proving her right.”

“Isn’t she a lesbian?” Wren asked.

“That’s what I said,” Rebecca responded, almost yelling. “And yes, for the record she is.”

“Fine,” Wren sighed. “One week.”

Rebecca pressed three reassuring kisses to Wren’s lips. “We can do it. I believe in us.”

Before Wren could whine even a little bit more, Rebecca’s phone rang. Immediately, all the color drained from Rebecca’s face.

“Are you okay?” Wren asked, trying to sit up from underneath Rebecca.

“It’s my dad,” Rebecca groaned. “This is gonna be brutal.”

“Hey, I’m right here, okay. You can do this. And I love you,” Wren added, quickly pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

With a very heavy sigh, Rebecca answered the phone and put it on speaker. Wren’s arms tightened around Rebecca’s middle, just in case. “Hey,” Rebecca offered when her father didn’t say anything by way of greeting.

“Becky, you told us specifically that you weren’t in a relationship with this Wren Eames girl, and now your face is all over the internet with her in another scandal.”

If Wren could have ducked back under the covers, she would have. She’d never met Richard Rothschild, and after that one sentence, she never wanted to. For all the reasons she loved Rebecca’s twang, she hated his.

“And at the time, that was the truth. If you’ll recall, I said that I wasn’t currently involved with Wren,” Rebecca countered.