Wentz’s eyebrows rise again, differently from the last time. Bob can’t tell if he’s surprised that Bob hasn’t denied anything or if he hasn’t heard all the rumors. He squints at Wentz, waiting for the reaction that will pretty much shape his entire opinion of the guy. Wentz grins this evil, evil grin and just says “Really?” meditatively as he sips at his coffee. “Aw, fuck,” Bob groans as he stubs out the cigarette. This is worse than rejection. Pete fucking Wentz is going to try fixing him up. Fuck.