To Catch a Thief

He grabbed her elbow before they entered the library, “Why . . . why not me? Why him?”
     “God, I don’t know, Mike, just because.” Jess knew this was coming.
     “But he’s such a sponger . . . ” He regaled her with a litany of things Josh had borrowed and not returned. He’d loved Jess for years, ever since first-year university, and had tried for ages, with invitations to cocktails, rides home, and offers to proofread her essays. Then this prick waltzes in and effortlessly scoops her up.
     She could have told him it was because Josh had hair like Cary Grant but that was cold comfort.