by Kelli Warner
“I’m not really sure,” I say, giving verbal confirmation to my thoughts. Without warning, Cade pulls me close and wraps his arms tightly around me. I expel a breath against his collarbone, sinking into his warm embrace and allowing him to hold me together. When he finally releases me and steps back, I feel exposed, and I wish I could take it all back. I rub at my upper arms. “What? No more questions?”
He shakes his head. “Not right now.”
“Then can I ask you one more?”
“Have at it,” Cade replies. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
I guess we’ll see if he really means that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cade
Paige guzzles the remainder of her water and then fidgets with the bottle. “Why do you and Dane hate each other so much?”
I kick at a small rock and send it flying over the ledge. “It wasn’t always like that. He was my best friend.” Paige blinks back surprise. “Yeah, it’s hard for me to believe, too. Seems like a lifetime ago.” I smooth a hand down my face, knowing that I owe Paige the same honesty she’s given to me. It wasn’t easy for her to talk about her mom, and part of me feels terrible that I keep asking her to do it.
“My mom died when I was thirteen,” I say. She doesn’t react, which confirms that she already knew that. Probably just part of the gossip that continues to circulate about me. “After she was gone, my dad threw himself into his work. A few weeks after the funeral, Macy returned to college in Arizona. She needed to finish the semester, and then she was going to transfer to a school closer to home. By then, my dad was practically living in Portland, where his office was based. I think spending time with me reminded him too much of my mom, and he couldn’t deal with it. Because he was hardly ever here, he arranged for me to move in with Dane and his family.”
This is harder to talk about than I thought it would be. I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, balling them into fists. “My dad was the Sloanes’ financial adviser, and the family is really well off, so I’m guessing he was good at his job. What nobody knew was that he was skimming off the top. Had been for years. When someone finally noticed—” I shrug. “My dad went to prison and I was no longer welcome in the Sloanes’ home.”
Surprise and pity mingle across Paige’s face. “What did you do?”
“I slept in back alleys, in unlocked garages, wherever I could find a dry roof over my head. And I found my own trouble,” I say flatly. “It wasn’t hard. As I said, I got messed up with the wrong people and did a lot of things I’m not proud of.” I meet her eyes and see the sympathy in them. “But I paid the consequences. I just lost a lot in the process.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “That must have been tough.”
“The thing is, I was only fourteen when my dad went to prison. Most of the kids at school don’t remember exactly what happened. But even though most of them couldn’t tell you what he did, or even what I did for that matter, they’re awesome at creating rumors and spreading them around.”
“What about Hannah?” Paige asks.
“What about her?”
“Who is she?” She looks both curious and uncomfortable at her own question.
“Hannah is Dane’s sister,” I say.
Paige’s brows pinch together, as if she’s trying to comprehend what I just said. “So, did you—? Were you two together?”
“No,” I say. “It wasn’t like that. Hannah got messed up in her own stuff. But what’s the saying—misery loves company? When her parents disowned her, I was really all she had. I never judged her. And even though I wasn’t in a good place myself, I tried to help her. But somehow, the whole family blames me for her mistakes. So, let’s just say I’m not a big fan of Dane or his lacrosse buddies.” I lock eyes with her and firmly say, “If you like him, you and I have no business being friends.”
“I don’t like him. Not like that,” Paige says, and I exhale the breath I’m holding as a surprising wave of relief washes through me. She reaches up and runs a finger lightly across my temple, touching the edge of my eyebrow.
“Where did you get this scar?”
“I got cut in a gang fight.” Her eyebrows lift in horror, and she straightens. The girl with the biting comebacks is suddenly speechless. I hold my stoic expression as long as I can, but as her discomfort magnifies, it breaks apart, and I laugh. “Paige, I’m kidding. I fell off the top of my bunk bed when I was six.”
I laugh harder when she punches me in the shoulder. “You’re the worst!”
“No, you just have a terrible habit of believing everything you hear, no matter who says it. That’s clearly not working for you.”
Paige rolls her pale green eyes, but despite her best effort, she can’t hold on to her annoyance. She laughs. And then she does something that catches me off guard. Reaching up onto her tiptoes, she cups my face in her hands and pulls me down until her lips press against mine in a firm kiss. When she finally pulls back, I’m dumbfounded, and Paige looks undeniably smug.
“I thought you didn’t want me to kiss you,” I say.
“You’re not kissing me,” she clarifies. “I’m kissing you.”
I laugh again. “Gotta love technicalities,” I say before pulling her against me and pressing my mouth to hers, leaving no doubt that, this time, I’m the instigator. And everything big and heavy that was wedged between us just moments ago—the loss of our moms, the anger I have toward my father and the betrayal of my best friend—somehow dissolves away. I don’t think about how broken Paige is, or that maybe I’m not the guy who is capable of fixing her. Here, in this moment with her, none of that matters.
“I want you to do something for me,” I say.
“Anything,” she breathes.
I stare into her eyes, not sure I should ask the question that pulses on the tip of my tongue. But I need to know if this girl is the real deal. I need to know if she’s really in this. And I need her to know that, despite the rumors she’s heard, I’m not playing around. “I want you to tell your dad about us. I want you to tell him we’re friends.”
Paige’s jaw goes slack and her body, which was alive in my arms just moments ago, falls completely still.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Paige
Things just got complicated in a whole new way.
It doesn’t matter what I do or where I go, I can’t stop thinking about Cade’s request. His harmless-on-paper request that I tell Jay that we’re—what exactly? Friends? Hanging out? Dating? But does a game of beach tag and a couple of soul-spilling sessions constitute dating? Well, there was the kiss. Three kisses to be exact. The memory of each one is practically burned onto my lips, and yet that doesn’t negate the fact that I am freaking out about the thought of telling Jay that I am hanging out with Cade in any way—whether it be dating, kissing or doing the crossword puzzle on the back of the menu at Java Joe’s while we wait for our coffee. Under any other circumstances, telling Jay that Cade and I are dating, kissing, crossword puzzling or participating in some other fill-in-the-blank activity like, I don’t know, underwater basket weaving perhaps, shouldn’t be a difficult task. But because Jay made it clear that he disapproves of me being in any proximity to Cade—that’s kind of a problem.
I’m not sure how to handle this, and I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about it. What would happen if I did tell Jay? What would happen if I just kind of forgot to share that information? What if I ask Cade to rescind his request and instead ask me to do something a little easier like, say, get a root canal? I’m mulling over all these options the following night when Cade invites me to catch a movie downtown with him and Jared after they get off work at the garage. Quinn tags along because she’s become my alibi, and because I want her to get to know Cade and his friends. I need her to see for herself that the rumors floating around about him are not true.
“What’s up with you tonight?” she whispers in my ear. At that moment, I realize that, despite the high-speed chase that�
�s unfolding in surround sound on the large screen in front of us, I’m staring down into the popcorn bucket, entirely consumed by my own drama. I shrug her off, and she doesn’t question me further.
By the following week, I still haven’t worked up the nerve to talk to Jay, even though I’ve had plenty of opportunities. Somehow, I’ve managed to convince myself that no time has really been the right time. I mean, springing something like this on him could cause all kinds of problems. He could have a heart condition I know nothing about. Cade has asked me a couple times how Jay reacted when I told him the news, but I just shrugged it off and told him we need to give Jay some time to warm up to the idea. Yup, I’m definitely going to hell on a liar’s scholarship.
My guilt is compounded when Quinn and I stop in at Sandpiper Lanes on Friday night to hear Cade’s band play. The bowling alley offers live music on the weekends. There’s a decent-size crowd, and the guys are killing it. I smile each time Cade catches my eye from the edge of the small stage, but I’m racked with guilt over skirting my promise to him. It’s the only thing he’s asked me to do for him and yet it feels like he’s asking me to step in front of a firing squad.
“If someone had told me that you would be dating Cade Matthews, I wouldn’t have believed them. Not for a second,” Quinn says, taking a sip of her soda. From her seat beside me, she’s studying Cade like he’s a life form she’s never seen before.
“Why is it so hard to believe?” I ask.
Quinn shakes her head. “I just never pictured you as being his type.”
“And what exactly does that mean?” A pang of defensiveness rises inside me at the thought that, in Quinn’s eyes or anyone else’s for that matter, I might not be worthy of a guy like Cade.
“Relax, I didn’t mean to offend you,” she says, grabbing a French fry from the basket in front of us. “All I’m saying is that you two come from very different places. You have to know that. And I, for one, never thought I’d be hanging out with Cade and his friends night after night because my bestie has a thing for him.”
I want to dispute her words, but I can’t. Because I do have a thing for Cade. I’m not entirely sure what to label it yet, but it’s definitely sizable. My eyes roam down Cade’s tall frame as he plays his guitar beside Jared with a huge smile plastered on his face. “I think Cade and I are more alike than you know.”
“What do you guys even talk about?”
“What do you mean, what do we talk about? We talk about—stuff.”
“Stuff?” Quinn stifles a laugh, then her twinkling eyes narrow mischievously on me. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I’m sorry, but I’m going to need more specifics on that one.”
“Nice try, but not happening,” I say.
“Fine. But if I ever land some hot guy with a mysterious past, don’t expect me to share the steamy details with you either.” She snatches another French fry, waggles her eyebrows, and we dissolve into laughter. Because if she lands a hot guy, in any capacity, we both know she will tell me all about it.
* * *
On Tuesday, I sleep through my alarm and nearly miss my first class. Then, if that isn’t bad enough, I stumble my way through a horrendous pop quiz in calculus in disastrous fashion. And because I apparently can’t catch a break, and the morning wasn’t already complicated enough, I’m running late for Spanish when Dane corners me at my locker.
“You and I need to talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Matthews. Whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop.”
I clutch my textbook to my chest. “That’s none of your business.” I’m less concerned with Dane’s temper tantrum and more over who else knows Cade and I are together. We’ve stayed pretty low key since the beach party. We don’t have any classes together, and when I sit with Quinn and the usual crowd in the cafeteria or in the courtyard, Cade doesn’t join us. I know darn well it’s because of his I-hate-you-more relationship with Dane, so I’ve taken to spending many of my lunch hours in the library, tucked away at a table in the back corner of the room, where Cade and I can hang out and avoid unwanted attention. And when I say “unwanted attention,” I mean Jay’s watchful eyes. I am fully aware that that pretty much secures me the title of wimp by any definition of the word, but for now, I’m okay with it.
“Look,” Dane says, placing an outstretched hand against the frame of my open locker and caging me against the door. He momentarily mutes his tirade as two girls scurry past us just as the bell rings. Late again. Fantastic. When they’re down the hall, Dane narrows his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
I duck under his arm and close my locker, forcing him to step back quickly. I turn to go, but he grabs my arm. “Let go of me,” I command, unease prickling along my spine. Dane immediately releases his hold.
“Sorry,” he says. “But Matthews is playing you.” I shake my head and glance at my watch. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but you can’t trust him.”
Not this again. “Save it, Dane. I know all about what happened between you two,” I say. “And I know about Hannah.”
A muscle thrums along his jaw. “Matthews doesn’t know how to tell the truth. You need to watch yourself.”
A burst of heat floods my cheeks at his warning. “I’m not listening to this.” I turn once more to go, but the dude is fast, whirling and sliding right into my path.
“Get a clue, Paige! You’re nothing more than a game to him,” he says, his words charged with disgust. “Matthews is just trying to piss off Principal Chapman and stir up trouble. And what do you think is the easiest way for him to do that?”
I level my glare on him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of Cade.”
Dane shrinks back, and his eyes darken. “Don’t be stupid.”
Stunned, I swallow hard, and this time when I attempt to step around him, he lets me go. I’m both relieved and utterly frazzled by what just happened. I try to shake it off, like his words didn’t faze me, but there’s wobbling in my knees, and my heart is beating at twice it’s usual pace.
As I reach the end of the hallway, Dane calls out, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
* * *
On Sunday night, Cade invites me over to his house to have dinner with him, Macy and her husband, Shawn. Macy makes a big pot of spaghetti, and we spend the evening playing board games.
“Cade, so help me, if I land on Park Place one more time, I’m going to lunge across this coffee table and hurt you!” Macy warns from her seat on the floor, holding what’s left of her Monopoly money in her hand and eyeing all her already-mortgaged properties.
From his spot next to me on the sofa, Cade laughs, holding out a waiting hand for his payment. “Then I guess it’s a good thing my hotels have extra security.” She sticks out her tongue, which makes Cade laugh even harder. Macy looks to Shawn for help.
“Sorry, babe,” he says. “Cade wiped me out ten minutes ago. I don’t have a railroad or even any low-income housing to my name.” Shawn is what I call strikingly handsome. He’s tall, like Cade, but with short, black hair and thick eyebrows that frame dark gray eyes. Cade told me that Shawn and Macy were college sweethearts. He’s a paramedic, and just as I’d suspected from our first meeting outside Jay’s office, he works at the local fire station.
“Don’t look at me,” I say. “I’m out, too.”
Macy groans in defeat. “Then, I guess—” She rests her forehead on the coffee table.
“Saaaay it,” Cade prompts, putting a hand behind one ear and leaning closer to his sister with a wide grin on his face. “Come on, sis, just say it, and this misery will end.”
Macy sits up and rolls her eyes. “Fine! You—win.”
“Yes!” Cade jumps off the sofa, scooping up the boatload of play money in front of him and tossing it into the air. It rains down all around us. “The queen has been dethroned and there’s a new champ in town!” He’s having way too much fun at his sister’s expense, but fi
nally, her annoyed expression cracks into a smile and she’s laughing along with Shawn and me. Cade is lucky to have Macy for a big sister. I can see they have a special relationship, and I wonder if Tanner and I could be that close someday. It seems silly to think about it, because the kid is so shy and doesn’t seem to have all that much to say to me.
After Cade finishes his anything-but-modest victory dance, and Macy has tossed every throw pillow she can find at him, we straighten up. Shawn and Cade head to the kitchen to do the dinner dishes and Macy and I stay behind to put all the game pieces back in their respective boxes.
“Paige?”
I pull my eyes away from a framed photo of a much-younger Cade and a dark-haired woman hanging on the wall and turn to see her studying me. “Yes?”
“Are you okay? You look like something’s bothering you.”
My cheeks warm as I begin to sort the Monopoly money back into the designated slots in the box and quickly try to decide if I should ask her what’s on my mind. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
“Go ahead, ask me anything,” Macy says, spreading her arms out wide. “I’m an open book. No pun intended.” I fold up the game board.
“How do you… you know… how do you handle the holidays without your mom?” Her face instantly softens, and she puts her arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “Is that too personal? I’m sorry if it is.”
“No, not at all. If there’s one thing you and I can talk about, it’s that. Cade told me about your mother.” I open my mouth, but no words come out. “He tells me lots of things,” she says softly. “I’m thankful for that, actually. It makes me feel like I don’t have to worry about him so much.” She touches my hand. “To answer your question—the holidays without my mom are hard. Even five years later, it’s not the same, and I miss her.”
“Does it get easier?”
Macy purses her lips. “I’m not sure,” she says. “But you will get to a place where you can find joy again. I promise. It’s just—different.”