Free Big Boned by Meg Cabot

idea—no earthly idea—about. Do you understand me?”
    True, I’d tried telling him before. But he’d mentioned something about not wanting to be my rebound guy.
    Hadn’t Tad proven more than adequate in this position, however?
    Still. Poor Tad! How could I do this to him? He has that question he wants to ask me, after all.
    But come on. Tad doesn’t even own a TV! Could I seriously be entertaining the idea of spending the rest of my life with a guy who wants me to run five kilometers with him every morning, avoids all meat and meat by-products, and doesn’t even own his own television?
    No. Just…no.
    “Cooper.”
    “Just let it go. All right? Any thought you might have of solving your boss’s murder yourself? Give it up right now.”
    “Cooper!”
    He loosens his grip on my shoulders and unhitches his own a little. “What?”
    “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” I say, after taking a deep breath.
    I’ve got to do this. I’ve just got to swallow my pride and tell Cooper how I feel. Granted, standing outside my place of work the day of my boss’s murder may not be the best place or time. But where is the best place, and when is the best time, really, to tell the guy you love unrequitedly that you love him unrequitedly? After you’ve already accepted a marriage proposal from another guy?
    “What is it?” Cooper asks, looking suspicious—as if he thinks I might break into some song and dance about how it’s important for the sake of my employment that I personally look into my boss’s murder.
    “I,” I begin nervously, feeling as if my heart has suddenly leaped into my throat. He has to have noticed, right? Between my madly throbbing pulse and the tears in my eyes, he has to know something is up, right? “The thing is, I—”
    “Heather!”
    I jerk my head around in surprise as a familiar figure lopes toward us from West Fourth Street. It’s Tad, his long blond ponytail bobbing behind him, a white paper sack in either hand.
    Oh God. Not now. Not now.
    “Heather,” he says, when he reaches us. His eyes, behind his gold-rimmed glasses, are concerned, his expression worried. “I just heard. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You weren’t there when it happened, were you? Oh, hi, Cooper.”
    “Hi,” Cooper says.
    And then, as if suddenly becoming aware that they were still resting there, he drops his hands from my shoulders and takes a step away from me. He looks almost…well. Guilty.
    Which is absurd, because it wasn’t like we were doing anything to feel guilty about. Well, I was about to confess my undying love for him.
    But he doesn’t know that.
    “I came as soon as I heard,” Tad says to me. “About your boss, I mean.” He glances over at the news vans. “Looks like they’re out in full force, huh? The vultures.” He heaves a shudder, then hands me one of the paper bags. “Here. I picked up some lunch for us.”
    I take the bag he’s offering, touched by the gesture. I guess. “Oh, you did? Tad, that’s so sweet…”
    “Yeah, I stopped by the student center and picked up two three-bean salads,” Tad says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “And a couple of protein shakes. I figured you might need something high in nutrients after the shock you had—and we had that awful breakfast…”
    “Uh.” Three-bean salad? Is he kidding? Do I look like a girl who could use a three-bean salad right about now? Three-bean bowl of chili with about a pound of melted cheddar cheese on top would be more like it.
    And our breakfast hadn’t been awful at all. Unless he means awfully delicious.
    Still, trying to be gracious, I say, “Thank you so much, Tad.”
    “Sorry I didn’t get you anything, Cooper,” Tad says, with a rueful smile. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
    “Oh,” Cooper says affably. “That’s okay. I filled up on three-bean salad earlier.”
    Tad grins, knowing Cooper is joking, then adds, “Oh, and hey…congratulations. On