by Jacob Chance
“I can try. But it’ll be difficult.”
“Well, it’ll be more difficult for me if you make my life hell. And wouldn’t it be pretty freaking selfish of you to ruin my experience here? I already left one college. I don’t want to move on to another.”
“Yeah, I see your point.” I raise my bottle of water to my mouth, watching her over the top. Swallowing the cool liquid gives me a moment to gather my thoughts and pose the question I need an answer to. “Why did you leave U.N.H. anyway?”
She shrugs. “Lots of reasons.” Her pink lips close around the fork, taking a bite of a french fry.
I study her as she chews. She can keep her secrets for now, but someday I’ll get to the bottom of what happened there. I can be patient when it comes to Maddie. She’s worth the effort.
I lean forward on the table. “Is B.U. everything you hoped it would be?”
Her wide eyes lift from her plate. “Are you kidding? It’s so much more than I imagined. I love everything about being here.”
“Everything?” I raise a brow.
Her excitement fades slightly as she studies me. “Well, maybe not everything.”
I laugh. I may have lost an opportunity for us to be romantically involved, but maybe we can salvage our friendship. I’d like her to be a part of my world again. I’ve missed her—more than I should.
I realize nothing can ever happen between us. I still feel guilty for keeping our brief relationship from Marshall. No matter how attractive I still find Maddie, or how vivid the memories of her soft lips under mine are, I won’t allow myself to pursue anything beyond friendship with her.
She waves to someone behind me and pops up from her seat. “I need to go. See ya.” She takes off like she can’t get away from me fast enough.
Turning my head, I watch her meet up with Clover. My gaze scrolls over every inch of her, pausing to admire her heart-shaped ass wrapped in tight jeans.
She’s even more breathtaking than when we were together. Her cheeks have leaned out and the bones are more pronounced. The baby faced innocence is gone and has been replaced with breath-stealing elegance.
Facing forward once more, I shove a fry in my mouth and caution myself. Been there, done that. Keep your distance. Maddie is off limits more than ever, and if I have to remind myself one hundred times a day to make it sink into my stubborn brain, I will.
“Shaw, you’re up,” Coach Cutter shouts across the ice rink.
I skate over and take my place in front of the net. One by one, my teammates are going to try and score on me while I do my best to keep them from getting a goal.
Donovan’s up first. He’s one of our strongest players and definitely the best skater on the team. My teammates and I like to joke that he should’ve been a figure skater because he skates so pretty.
Really, there’s nothing pretty about him barreling down the ice, straight at me. It’s goddamn intimidating. My eyes focus on the puck and only the puck. I learned from day one of being a goalie that the puck is where my attention needs to be at all times. No one wants to have a goal scored on them from center ice, but it can happen. If I intensely watch the puck, it’s less likely to happen.
If you watch the players you can screw up your reactions. Donovan’s famous for head fakes and pump fakes, but I’m not about to fall for them because my eyes are where they should be. He draws his stick back and then forward in a pendulum motion, making contact with the puck. The black dot sails through the air toward my left shoulder and I automatically react, catching it in my glove.
Donovan’s head falls back, and I see the word fuck form on his lips.
“Better luck next time D,” I call out. Marshall’s up next and he’s grinning almost maniacally. I know he’s determined to score on me, but I’m equally if not more determined that he won’t.
I make sure I’m in the position I need to be as he skates forward. Again, my attention is on the puck. When he keeps coming toward me, I remind myself to be patient. If I move into the wrong position, I might not have time to adjust before he shoots.
When he’s almost beside me, he flicks the puck, aiming for it to pass between me and the net. And it almost does, but I reach down with my right hand and the puck flies right into my glove.
Coach keeps me in the net for another twenty minutes, and Donovan’s the only player to snake the puck past me. When practice is finally over, I’m feeling pretty good about my performance, and judging by the slap on the back from the coach, he is also.
Chapter Fifteen
Maddie
“How are you doing since you’ve been seeing Shaw?” Clover leans back on her bed, her pink glossed lips arched into a mischievous grin.
“I’ve bumped into him twice. You make it sound like we’re seeing each other.” Sitting on the blue area rug, I swirl my fingers over the shaggy fibers, drawing patterns and then erasing them with my palm.
Clover rolls her eyes. “Pfft. Details. It’s only a matter of time.”
“You’re wrong about this. He’s not thinking of me as anything but his best friend’s little sister. I’m an unwanted obligation for him these days.”
“He doesn’t look at you like you’re unwanted or an obligation. He looks at you like he’s the big, bad wolf and you’re Little Red Riding Hood. And you know what that means?” I shake my head. “He wants to eat you.” She cackles.
“Be real. That ship sailed long ago. And if that’s the case, why didn’t he take advantage of the opportunity when he had the chance?”
“Maddie, you were younger then and innocent. He was trying to be a good guy.”
“Pretending to be a good guy, you mean,” I grumble. “He broke my heart. He was in bed with another girl. He treated it all like it meant nothing and I was just a placeholder for Marshall.”
“I know, but I like Shaw. I always have.”
“Traitor,” I interject.
“Seriously?” Clover tips her head, glaring at me.
“Yep. Out of loyalty to our friendship, you’re automatically supposed to think he’s scum.”
“He is scum for hurting you, but I think you hurt him too.”
“How did I hurt him?”
“You assumed the worst and never gave him a chance to explain.”
“Seeing my boyfriend naked in bed with another girl pretty much spoke for itself.”
“If you loved him back then, don’t you think you should’ve at least given him the opportunity to tell you what happened?”
“I did love him.”
“I know you did. You just didn’t love yourself enough to believe he wasn’t choosing someone else over you.”
My eyelids slam shut and my chin drops to my chest at the brutal truth. She’s right. I’ve always felt second best.
When I walked in to find the two of them in my bed, all of my insecurities slammed into me full force. I didn’t blame him for choosing someone else. I knew I wasn’t enough to keep him interested.
I hear the bed creak and the sound of Clover joining me on the floor. Her arm wraps around my shoulders and she leans her head against mine.
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Maddie, but at the same time, you’ve been holding on to a lot of anger where Shaw’s concerned.”
“I know I have.”
“Maybe it’s time to let it go. Aren’t you here because you’ve dreamed of attending B.U.?” I nod, my head rocking against hers. “Think of this as a fresh start. Maybe it’s time for you to stop hating Shaw. Besides, we both know you don’t really hate him. You still care, so don’t bother denying it.”
“I do care, and I probably always will. He was my first love. But that doesn’t mean all is forgiven. I may not have given him a chance to explain, but he never really fought for me either.”
“He could say the same,” Clover states.
I pull away from her, rising to my feet. “I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk about Shaw anymore.”
“Okay. But at some point you guys are going to need to work out
your issues or Marshall is going to suspect something is up. I can’t believe he hasn’t already.”
I plop down onto Clover’s bed. “Well, I haven’t seen Shaw much. He was at Ruby’s birthday party last summer, but we didn’t speak.”
“Right. I remember you telling me how awkward the car ride was. What did you tell Marshall the reason for not talking was again?”
“I said I was depressed because I didn’t like how my hair came out when you dyed it brown.”
She laughs so hard that I join in. When we finish, we’re both wiping tears from our eyes.
Clover slowly tics her head from side to side. “I can’t believe he bought that excuse. Guys are so dumb sometimes.”
“Sometimes? At this age they all seem kind of ridiculous.”
“Ah, you’re just jaded from a bad experience.”
“You mean bad experiences,” I correct. “I’m two for two in the boyfriend department.”
“Oh yeah. How did I forget about Luke? Is he still calling you?”
“No. He’s been unusually quiet. No emails or social media messages either.”
“Maybe he’s finally accepting that it’s over,” she offers.
“I’m hoping that’s the case. I never told anyone but my roommates where I was going, and they can’t stand him. So, at least he doesn’t know where I am.”
“If he comes here sniffing around it’ll be time to get a restraining order.”
I scrunch my nose up at the thought. “I don’t think it will. I can’t make it any clearer that I want nothing to do with him. I switched schools. What more could it take?”
“You broke up with him months ago. That should be enough. We can always sic Marshall on him. He can beat the breakup into his head.” Clover smiles.
“What is it with you and seeing guys fight?”
“It’s hot to watch. It’s that simple.”
I glance at the clock and grimace. “Shoot. I need to get to the library. There’s a book I need to grab, and I might do some work while I’m there.”
“I’m going to the gym. I’ll see you later.”
I search for the book I need and find it on a shelf too high for me to reach. I scan the aisle for a stool to stand on but don’t find one. I jump up, trying to catch the spine of the book, but I don’t make contact. “Crap,” I mutter under my breath.
“Need some help?”
Whipping around, I find Shaw standing too close. Where did he come from? I step to the side, placing some distance between us. “Uh… sure… please.”
“Which book do you need? This one?” He taps the pad of his finger against the gold title on the spine.
“Yes, please.”
He tugs the book free, holding it toward me. I reach out to take it, and he pulls it back to his chest.
Scowling, I ask, “What game are you playing?”
He smirks, tempting me to walk away without the book I need. “I’ll give you this book, but I want something in exchange.”
“What?” I spit out the word venomously.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
I narrow my eyes. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Yeah, no thanks. I had enough surprises when we dated.”
His pleased expression dims a bit. “Come on. What have you got to lose by hanging out with me for a few hours?”
“My patience. My sanity. My self-respect. Should I continue?”
He laughs instead of getting annoyed, which infuriates me. “Maddie, what’s it going to be—book or no book?”
“Fine. I’ll give you three hours and not a second more.”
“Shake on it.” He holds his hand out, and I press my palm against his. He squeezes gently, and I feel his touch all the way to my toes. I tear my hand free and surreptitiously wipe my palm on my jeans.
“Hand over the book, please.”
He extends the thick autobiography in front of me, and I snatch it from his grasp.
“What, no thank you?”
I aim a ball-shriveling glare at him before stomping away.
“Oh, Maddie. I’ll be in touch.”
I hold my middle finger up over my head and keep walking. His deep rumbling chuckle follows me.
So much for staying at the library to study. There’s no way I’m sticking around so he can bother me some more.
What the heck is up with him manipulating me into spending time with him? And what is he planning on doing with me? Even better, why does he want to take me anywhere?
With my disdain for him so apparent, he had to have noticed. Why would he want to spend time with someone who despises him?
Maybe he’s looking for revenge. That’s the only reason that makes any sort of sense. It certainly can’t be because he still cares for me. If that were the case, he would’ve sought me out by now. It’s been eighteen months since we were together.
I check out at the front desk, tuck the book inside my backpack, and sling the cushioned strap over my shoulder.
Stepping outside into the bitter evening air, my breath shows in a small white cloud every time I exhale.
Pausing on the sidewalk in front of the library, I grab my hat from the pocket on my wool coat and tug it down over my ears. Pulling my gloves from the other pocket, I slip them on my fingers before they can get too chilled.
Tucking my chin into the collar on my coat, I curse myself for forgetting to wear a scarf when I left my dorm.
Heading down the sidewalk, the brutally cold breeze stings my face. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten yet. Up ahead is a deli that makes great sandwiches. The sign flashes like a beacon calling to me, and as I reach for the door handle, someone beats me to it, reaching in front of me.
“After you.”
Peering over my shoulder, I find Shaw behind me and my face twists up, wrinkling like a prune.
My arms cross in front of my chest. “Are you stalking me?”
“Not at all. I just happened to finish up at the library the same time as you, and while I was walking home, I had a yearning for a grinder.” My face must show my skepticism because he continues, “What else would be the reason?”
“It better not have anything to do with my brother. I’ve had enough of his overprotective bullshit and I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks.”
He seems surprised by my outburst, but that’s because he doesn’t know me anymore. I’m not the same insecure girl I used to be. In my world, I come first, and I don’t make choices based on what Marshall wants or what is less likely to anger him. He can do him and I’m doing me.
He holds up both hands in front of his chest. “This has nothing to do with your brother.”
“Well, I happen to know that your frat is in the other direction. And I also know that you have a truck, so why are you walking?”
The door opens behind us as more customers enter the deli. He takes hold of my arm, ushering me forward. “How about we have dinner and I’ll answer your questions.”
“All of them?” I push for a guarantee.
“Yes. You can ask me anything.”
Hmm. This sounds like too good of an opportunity to pass up. As hesitant as I am to have dinner with Shaw, I would like some answers, and I may never get them if I don’t take advantage of this chance.
“Okay, we can eat together. As long as you’re prepared to get real with me.”
“When haven’t I been?” he asks. I’m saved from answering when it’s our turn to order at the counter.
Once we’re seated across from each other at a small table in the corner, I can’t hold back any longer. “Why are you really here with me?”
He rubs his knuckles over his thickly stubbled chin. “I saw you at the library and I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About anything. I just wanted to hear your voice and interact with you. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Honestly? Yeah, it is. We’ve barely shared a handful of words since th
at summer. Why’s anything different today?”
“We haven’t spoken much because you were still so angry. You weren’t ready to talk to me.”
One of my brows pops upward. “And you think I am now?”
He shrugs. “You’re sitting here with me, aren’t you? That seems like progress to me.”
“Maybe. It was easy to ignore you when I never saw you.”
“Easy?” He’s doubtful.
“Yeah, easy. I didn’t say I wasn’t conflicted about you not being my friend. But when you weren’t in the same state as me, I didn’t really think about you.”
He grimaces. “Thanks.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you expect from me. You broke my heart.”
“I guess I was hoping you missed me as much as I missed you,” he confesses.
He’s missed me?
Chapter Sixteen
Maddie
I barely keep my mouth from dropping open. “I didn’t say I haven’t missed you.” That much I’m comfortable admitting. But this is supposed to be my chance to question him, not the other way around.
“There’s that, at least.”
“If you missed me so much, you could’ve reached out. Why should it all be on me?”
“I already explained why I didn’t.” He rakes his unruly curls back from his face. Enchanted, I watch as the thick locks rearrange, falling into place, as if they don’t know to do anything but look sexy.
“You could’ve written me a letter or an email.”
“That’s so impersonal. Maybe I wanted to be able to look into your blue eyes while we had this discussion.” I clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip. I don’t know what to say. “At least this way I can gauge your reactions for myself.”
“What are you hoping to accomplish by having this discussion?” I need to know what his real motive is.
“I miss you and our friendship. I guess I’m hoping we can hang out sometimes.”
My pulse jumps and I draw in a long, slow breath, reminding myself to stay calm. He said he wants to be friends, not that he wants to rekindle anything romantic. And if he did, would I give him another chance?