Page 13 of Rumor Has It

She took a photo of herself in the bathroom, the fun white with navy blue patterned wallpaper making the navy of her jumpsuit pop. She texted it to Katie.

Rebecca Rothschild (5:57 PM): Thanks for making me bring this outfit.

Katie responded almost immediately.

Katie Royce (5:57 PM): Looking Hot AF!!!!

Becky smiled at the sentiment and headed back out into the main living area of their hotel room. Wren was playing on her phone, sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for her. She hadn’t looked up when Becky had emerged, so Becky had a second to take in Wren’s outfit. Wren had on a black well-cut suit jacket over a black tight-fitting deep-cut V-neck. She had on white and black plaid pants and her solid white Jordans. Though Becky would die before she admitted it to anyone, Wren Eames looked, in a word, breathtaking.

Wren finally looked up, acknowledging Becky’s presence. Her green eyes trailed up Becky’s body, the eyebrow with the scar slashed through it lifted ever so slightly in surprise. Wren quickly stood and stuffed her phone in her pocket.

“Ready?” She asked, her rough voice scraping through Becky straight to her core.

Becky could feel a blush creep across her cheeks, and it made her want to throw something in rage. She could not and would not ever find Wren attractive again. She had just never seen her dressed up before. That’s all this was, surprise that Wren owned clothes that weren’t just athleisure or ripped jeans. She cleared her throat. Wren had asked her a question, and she wasn’t going to act too stunned to respond. “Yeah. I didn’t expect you to wait for me.”

Wren shrugged and held their door open, waiting for Becky to grab her purse and double check that she had her phone, wallet, and room key. Wren stuffed her hands in her pants pockets as they walked down the hallway, heading towards the elevator. The silence was heavier between them than it had been all week. Becky trailed half a step behind Wren, doing her best to not inhale the scent of the same cologne from all those years ago. It smelled like heaven and heartbreak. Wren hit the elevator button and leaned back against the hallway wall opposite the lift, waiting for the doors to open.

Becky was just about to cave to the new and uncomfortable tension between them and ask Wren a question about the book she had been reading all week when the elevator doors chimed and then slid open. Wren pushed herself off the wall and stepped into the elevator, leaving her arm in front of the sensor while Becky stepped in as well. Becky was painfully aware of just how much taller than Wren these boots made her. Their three-inch difference pushed closer to six. All of the tension between them shattered when the doors slid apart again, opening up to the hotel lobby and a crowd of their new teammates. An easy smile slid onto Wren’s face as she stepped out and fist bumped some of the other players.

The first stop the team made was a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Courtney, the unofficial team captain had called ahead and made reservations. Becky quickly took a seat next to Morgan and Allison Martins. They had been nothing but welcoming towards her despite her rocky start at the beginning of the week. She relaxed a little when Wren slid into a seat at the very end of the table, far enough away from her that she wouldn’t even be able to overhear her conversation. It was just her outfit, Becky reminded herself. That’s all this weird feeling was.

As dinner was nearing an end and desserts were being passed out, Courtney Sinclair looked down at her phone and then let out a loud, attention-grabbing laugh. “You sneaky little shit,” she said loudly, turning her full attention to Wren.

Becky’s conversation with Morgan and Allison was completely interrupted by Courtney’s outburst, followed by the tall forward bursting into uncontrolled laughter. Becky watched as Courtney, without saying anything else, pulled her billfold out of her back pocket and slid a hundred-dollar bill across the table to a very confused Wren.

“What’s this for?” Wren asked. Becky was only able to hear her because the rest of the table had fallen silent.

“Because you’ve clearly already banged a Victoria’s Secret model.” Courtney held her hand up, waiting for Wren to high-five it.

Wren’s eyes widened with surprise. She made no move to grab the hundred dollars on the table in front of her. Becky’s mouth went dry. Wren had been in the hotel every night that week. How had she managed to sleep with a model since making her bet with Courtney?

Wren half heartedly reached up and high-fived Courtney.

“How do you know?” Ali O’Connell asked, looking skeptically from Courtney to Wren. Becky couldn’t help but feel the same question bubble from within herself, but she hoped she didn’t look nearly as jealous as Ali did. Ali had fawned all over Wren all week.

“I get Riptide news notifications on my phone. So any articles involving us pop up. Looks like Wren here has been dating an actual angel all along,” Courtney supplied.

Becky felt her stomach drop as Courtney held her phone up, showing off a headline that read very similar to the corny remark she had just made.

“In a surprise post, Andrea Santorini, 23, one of this year's hottest up-and-coming runway models, comes out as queer, very taken, and very much missing her girlfriend, Wren Eames. Eames, a Women’s National Soccer Team player, 22, is known for her speed, aggression, and uncanny ability to score. Recently, Eames made headlines for her continuing feud with rival-turned-teammate Rebecca “Becky” Rothschild. Looks like women’s soccer just got a lot more interesting.” Courtney threw her head back in a laugh and looked from Wren to Becky. “Look at y’all go, making Entertainment Weekly. I’m so proud of you both. Let me flag down the waiter, a round of drinks on me.” She looked at Wren and pointed at the hundred-dollar bill. “Take it, dude. You earned it.”

Becky watched as Wren forced a smile and grabbed the bill off the table. She tucked it into the breast pocket on the inside of her suit top and subtly pulled her phone out. The rest of the team had all slipped into animated conversations, mostly surrounding the news that Wren was dating a Victoria’s Secret model. Becky watched as the fake smile fell from Wren’s face completely. Her sharp jaw flexed and relaxed over and over again as she stared intently at her phone. Becky wondered why Wren looked so genuinely annoyed. She wondered if she had been caught, not just by Courtney, but also by whoever she had been calling “Baby” earlier in the week. She wondered if Wren had two girlfriends at one time and if, now that the news had hit Entertainment Weekly, she’d be down to just one. Her stomach bottomed out again. Or worse, she had been wrong, and the person Wren had been talking to was none other than Andrea Santorini. Becky flinched. That was honestly way more likely. She had probably gone off on Wren without cause. No wonder Wren had seemed so confused by Becky’s reaction and so certain she’d win the bet.

“Jesus, Wren.” Brittany Holcomb said. She was one of the midfielders, and she was staring at her phone. “Thirst trap, much?” She added with a laugh, showing the girls sitting on either side of her.

Wren blushed, but her chin tilted up ever so slightly. Her scarred eyebrow lifted defiantly as she shrugged. “I mean, clearly she did, right?”

Her comment didn’t make any sense to Becky. She knew it had to have something to do with Andrea’s actual post. She waited for conversation to shift and for the team’s ribbing of Wren to die down before she dared to pull her phone out of her purse. She took a deep breath as she searched for Wren’s girlfriend on Instagram. Her heart ached when Andrea’s profile popped up. She was as beautiful as her occupation would suggest, bright blue eyes, full lips, auburn hair, flawless complexion, and in her most recent post, she was sitting in Wren’s lap. Becky thumbed to the next photo, a candid shot of Wren in a sports bra and boxers with a toothbrush in her mouth. The next one of the two of them all dressed up for what looked like a night out just like this one. The next one was a video of Wren juggling a soccer ball at the beach, zooming back, and then flipping around to show Andrea laid out sun-tanning. The last photo was one that Wren had taken in the hotel bathroom, Becky would have recognized that navy blue and white wall paper anywhere. Wren was very clearly topless, with one arm haphazardly covering her chest. It had a Snapchat caption across it, the chunky block font she had used covering her lowering half. The words just read, “Miss me yet?”

Andrea’s caption to the photoset read, “A lot of you keep asking about my love life. I thought it was about time I shared. And yes, Baby, I do miss you. #loveislove #lovewins #girlfriends.”

Her eyes flashed back up to Wren, sitting as far away from her as the table would allow. Her whole posture had changed. Becky knew that she would be outraged if someone shared a photo like that of her to anyone, let alone the world. The post already had a hundred thousand likes and thousands of comments. It was by far the most interacted-with post on Andrea’s page. Becky clicked on Wren’s tag. She hadn’t looked at Wren’s Instagram in a long time, but none of the content had changed. It was all soccer or the brands she now repped. ‘Thirst trap’ had never been Wren’s vibe, and Becky genuinely felt bad for her.

After the next round of drinks had been finished, Wren excused herself to go to the restroom. Becky waited for a few minutes before getting up to follow her. At the very least, she seemed to owe her an apology for her outburst earlier in the week. She pushed open the bathroom door to find Wren pacing with one hand holding her phone pressed to her ear, her long fingers on the other rubbing her temples.

“You could have checked with me first,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. There was a pause while Wren listened to what Becky could only assume was Andrea’s response. “I get that, and of course I’m proud of you for coming out, but Andy, what the hell? That last picture was for you.” There was another pause. “Well, I don’t pose for photos like that as my profession.” Wren let out a heavy sigh. “No, I’m not shitting on your profession. I’m just saying it’s not something I’m comfortable with for me.” Wren spun around, her green eyes widened when she realized Becky was standing a few feet away, awkwardly hovering just inside the restroom door. “Look, Andy I’m going to have to call you back.” There was a loud voice on the other end of the line, but Wren pressed end with another heavy sigh accompanied by an eye roll.

Becky took a steadying breath. She had really hoped that she had been wrong about Wren’s shift in behavior. Wren stared at her, her nostrils flaring with frustration. “What? Did you come to yell at me for taking Courtney’s money?” Her tone was sharp, and her words were clipped.