by Jenika Snow
He was my best friend. He was my soulmate. I heard the door open and looked over, hoping to see him. But Della shut the door and head to her bed, tossing her backpack on it and looking at me as she sat down. She braced her arms behind her and leaned back. She wore this saucy little grin, and I knew she was up to something. “What do you have going on tonight?”
I sat up and shook my head slowly. “Nothing, why?” I didn’t like the way her smile widened. Della was an extrovert to the nth degree. She wanted me to do something with her I probably wouldn’t like—that was obvious.
“So you know that guy I always talk to, my super, major crush?” I nodded. “There’s this frat party going on and he’s asked me to go, but I don’t want to go alone. Will you come with me, maybe for just like an hour?”
I wasn’t a partying kind of girl, and aside from the couple high school ones I’d gone to with Max, I’d stayed away from them. They were really out of my comfort zone. It had all been about drinking, near run-ins with half-naked students trying to get it on, and fights by testosterone, aggression-filled guys who wanted to have a pissing contest with each other.
It all left much to be desired. But maybe a college party would be different, more mature? Judging by movies I’d seen... I doubted it. I checked my phone and knew Max was still at work. He’d be there for another hour or so. I couldn’t call him to join us, so it looked like this was a solo mission.
“Pleeease?” She dragged out that word and gave me big puppy dog eyes. I laughed and shook my head.
“Okay,” I finally gave in, and she clapped her hands. “But I’m not changing. Jeans and my oversized sweater will have to do.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “You’d look hot wearing a damn trash bag.”
That had me laughing harder.
And as I watched her get ready, her nervousness clear, I got a flash of the past when I’d been falling for Max and had acted that same way.
How times had changed. There wasn’t a crush anymore. I had bone-deep, consuming love for him.
And I needed to do something about it.
Chapter Five
Abigail
I’d only been at the party for twenty minutes, and already I wanted to leave.
This wasn’t my scene.
At all.
I’d grabbed a beer when I’d first gotten here. I wasn’t a drinker, but I hoped maybe a little liquid courage would help the anxiety I felt. It hadn’t.
I wasn’t a people person, never had been. And this party was packed with unknown faces, bodies shoulder-to-shoulder as music pounded through speakers set up in the corner of the room, the scent of spilled alcohol a little nauseating.
Della disappeared almost as soon as we’d gotten here, asking if I’d be fine. I was too much of a chicken to ask her to stay by my side. She hadn’t made it a secret on why she wanted to come here tonight, so I’d nodded and told her to go. I was the third wheel, after all.
I found myself sitting on an old, faded couch in the corner, a couple beside me heavily making out.
“Hey.”
I glanced up at the guy in front of me.
“You look beerless. That’s a sad sight.” He grinned. “I can fix that.” He showed me his bottle in hand.
I shook my head. “I’m good, but thanks.”
I glanced around the room and spotted Della with a guy. She was laughing, he had his arm slung over her shoulder, and I assumed it was her crush.
“You sure you’re good in the drink department?”
“I’m going to be heading out, but thanks.” I held up a bottle of water, one I’d snagged right after I finished nursing my beer.
The guy still stood in front of me, so I focused on something else, because frankly, not having him move was awkward.
I pulled out my cell and sent Max a text. I was ready to leave, and with Della incapacitated with her boy toy, and me not wanting to bother her, Max was always my go-to.
Can you come get me? I’m at this party and ready to go.
Immediately, I saw those three gray dots telling me Max was responding.
Max: I’ll be there in ten. Stay outside so no one fucks with you.
I chuckled at that. Even through a text, he was protective.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and stood, having to brush by the guy in front of me, because he refused to move and give me space. “Excuse me,” I muttered and headed out to the front porch.
I stood outside for a good five minutes before the chill in the air finally settled in. I wrapped my jacket tighter around my body. I hadn’t even bothered taking it off the entire time I was inside, because I was pretty sure, subconsciously, I knew I wasn’t going to stay. I turned and looked in the living room window, able to see Della and her crush. He was playing with her hair as they made out pretty heavily. Maybe I should go tell her goodbye? But even the thought of intruding on that kind of situation made me uncomfortable.
When I turned to face the road again, I knew Max would be here soon, and all I could think about was him.
Ever since I’d met him that first day of school, when he’d been the only student to make me feel welcome, I think I loved him. He protected me, didn’t let anyone talk down to me or bully me. He was strong and confident, knowing what he wanted in life. I felt subpar compared to his vison of the future.
But what I knew for certain, what I wasn’t afraid of, what didn’t give me anxiety, was the fact that I was madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with him.
It was a hand on my arm that pulled me from my thoughts. I looked over and saw the guy from inside standing right next to me. He had a grin on his face, a glossy-eyed look on his face, and reeked of beer. Why hadn’t I noticed those things before?
“Hey. You ran out of there so fast I couldn’t get to know you better.” His words were slurred, and with the music and atmosphere dulled because we were outside, I could clearly see he was trashed.
I shrugged off his hold and took a step to the side to put some space between us. “Yeah, that’s not really my scene. I’m just waiting for someone then I’m gone.” I didn’t like the vibes I got from him, especially given that he was drunk. I focused in front of me, silently telling Max to hurry up.
And then I saw a flash of headlights and my belly did this little, nervous flip. I knew it was Max before I made out his car.
I straightened, smiling when it was confirmed, and he pulled to a stop at the curb. But just as I was about to go down the steps and meet him, the drunk guy wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned in close. His warm, beer-smelling breath had bile rising up in my throat.
I was about to excuse myself, when I glanced toward Max’s direction and felt my eyes widen and my stomach do a flip. Even from the distance, I saw a look of rage cover his face as he stared at the guy who still had his arm wrapped around my waist. I was so frozen that I hadn’t even moved away. And as I watched Max barrel toward us, I looked at the drunk. He was watching Max with this confused look on his face.
“You should go,” I muttered, because truthfully, I didn’t know what Max would do. Did he think I was in danger? Did he think the guy was trying to fondle me? I supposed in a way he was. His touch was absolutely not consensual. But I’d never seen this kind of anger come from Max.
“I wonder who pissed that guy off,” the drunk slurred.
You.
I took a step back, and his hand fell away from me.
“Um.” He took a step back when he finally realized Max was coming right at him. “I’m gonna head inside,” he muttered and left, and I exhaled and faced Max. He still had his focus on where the guy had just disappeared to.
“Max?” My voice was soft, maybe too soft for him to hear me. But he stopped right away and snapped his head in my direction. “Are you okay?” I had my hands in front of me, my fingers twisted together.
Max was a few feet from me and I saw him blink, as if reality finally came through his anger fog. I saw his nostrils flare and his jaw clench.
“I’m fine.”
He looked over my shoulder to where the guy left.
“He was just drunk. He didn’t do anything but grab my waist.” I swallowed at the sound I heard come from him. He was so angry. I’d never seen him like this before.
Before I knew what was happening, Max was on the porch and standing in front of me. I craned my neck back and looked in his face, and he lifted his hands and cupped my cheeks, his gaze roaming over me. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I smiled, hearing the concern in his voice. “I promise. I’m fine. Can we just get out of here?”
He held my hand and led me away, down the porch, and to his car. We were about to get into his vehicle, when I saw Della walking toward us, presumably with her crush in tow.
“You heading out?” she asked once she was at Max’s car.
I nodded. “Yeah. This really isn’t my thing.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “Honestly, me neither. That’s why Trent and I are heading out. We’re going to that all-night diner. You can join if you want?”
I shook my head. “That’s okay, but thanks.”
Della looked over her shoulder at Trent then back at me. “Okay, well don’t wait up, if you know what I mean.” She gave me a wink.
I smiled and pointed to Max. “Della, you remember my best friend Max?” I looked at him and watched as he lifted his hand in a wave to her, but he had his focus on me, as if he didn’t give a shit about Della.
“Yeah, of course I remember,” Della said on a grin. “Well, I’ll see you later.”
I nodded, although I didn’t feel like going back to the dorm. I didn’t want to be alone. I watched her leave with Trent, and then it was just Max and me again. “Can you take me back to your place? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Even in the darkened interior of the car, I could see how much he cared for me.
My best friend forever.
Although, I wished like hell we could be more.
“Absolutely. I don’t want you to be alone either.”
I rested my head back on the seat when he started the engine and pulled away from the curb, and all I could think about was maybe tonight I should finally be honest. Maybe tonight, I should tell Max that I wanted something more.
Chapter Six
Abigail
Max shut the front door to his duplex, and I stood there for a minute just taking everything in. I’d been here plenty of times since he moved in, and although it was small, with just one bedroom, a tiny living room that was attached to the kitchen, an even smaller laundry room, and then a little bathroom down a short hallway, it really did feel like home.
And as I looked at Max, I knew it felt that way because I was with him. It didn’t matter where we were, whether it was my dorm room, this duplex, at my parents’ house, or hell, sitting in his car underneath the bridge as traffic went by above us while we listened to music. Anytime I was with him, I always felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
And that was how I felt tenfold the entire drive to his house, as we listened to the Beatles, as I kept glancing at him and seeing his masculine features that were lightly accented by the dashboard.
Even now, my heart was still racing. I wanted to just tell him right here and now how I felt, that I had fallen in love with him, hell, that I thought I loved him from the moment we first met five years ago. I’d been this shy, timid little girl when we first moved to town, but he read me so easily, as if I were his favorite book and he knew every single word. He opened me up so I didn’t feel scared of rejection.
“Let me go get cleaned up,” he said and gave me a grin, and it was the first time I noticed the shirt he wore had some grease smudges on it. “I’d just hopped out of the shower when you texted, and I threw on my dirty clothes again so I could get to you faster.” He winked before he turned and disappeared down the small hallway and into his room.
I walked around, seeing a few pictures on the walls, all of them of the two of us over the years. I smiled.
I went into the kitchen and yelled out, “I’m going to grab a glass of water, okay?” He hollered back that was fine, mumbling he didn’t know why I was even asking because his place was mine. That put a bigger smile on my face.
I grabbed the glass out of the cupboard and went to the sink, turning on the tap and filling up the glass. I walked over to the small breakfast counter and leaned against it as I stared at his bedroom door. It was partially open, and I could see him putting on a clean shirt, the wide expansive of his muscular back coming into view. My heart jumped a little, and I looked away quickly.
It was when I turned that I noticed a clear bag sitting by the microwave. It looked like candy, those little hearts people gave away during Valentine’s Day. Max didn’t like candy whatsoever, so I wasn’t sure why he actually had them.
I walked over and grabbed the bag, placing it flat on the counter and looking at the colorful hearts through the clear plastic. It was then I noticed what they said.
You’re mine.
Until forever.
Love you.
There were a dozen other sayings, personal and heartfelt that were squeezed onto the little pastel-colored candies.
I didn’t remember conversation hearts saying all these things, and the longer I looked at them, the more I wondered if these were custom made. I had a feeling these weren’t just candy but were meant for someone, someone special.
Or I could’ve just been overthinking it all, jumping to conclusions. It was just candy, for God’s sake. But in my gut, I felt like it was more.
I pushed the candy back where I found it just as I heard Max come back out. I didn’t know why I was being so anxious about this, but I felt like what I’d found had been pretty personal.
He stopped on the other side of the breakfast counter and stared at me, a smile on his face. “Hey.”
I cleared my throat and gripped the edge of the breakfast counter, feeling like I’d just gotten caught doing something really bad. “Hi.” Slowly, his smile faded as he looked at me, clearly seeing how awkward I was being.
“What’s wrong?” he asked and gave me this weird expression.
I shook my head and forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m good. Want to watch some TV? Order a pizza?” Those were the last things I wanted to do. I was blabbering right now, stuttering, rambling on like a fool.
I glanced at the conversation hearts on instinct, and when I snapped my focus back to him, I watched as he followed my gaze. I watched his expression change, his confusion morphing. It was then, as his nervousness was clear, that I knew without a doubt I’d been right.
That candy was for someone.
I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. I’d never seen him with anybody the entire time we’d been friends, and he sure as hell had never talked about being interested in anyone. So to know he had someone special in his life was like a knife to my heart, that blade twisting until I had to set the glass of water down and actually lift my hand and place it on my chest.
“You weren’t supposed to see those right now,” he said softly and looked back at me.
I licked my lips and nodded. “I didn’t mean to snoop or intrude on your personal space.” He watched me with this concerned look on his face. “Are those for a girl?” I hated saying that out loud, the words like acid on my tongue.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
I cleared my throat and pretended like that didn’t hurt more than it should’ve. The truth was, it was the most painful thing I’d experienced in my life. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, Max. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I already knew I’d hate her because she wasn’t me and couldn’t make him happy like I could.
He didn’t answer for long seconds, and I felt that dread start to fill me. How had I been so blind to the fact there was someone in his life? It was very clear she
meant an awful lot to him. I could tell that in the way he’d admitted he had feelings for someone, very clear in the way he looked at me like it was almost… painful.
I was feeling awkward and uncomfortable around Max right now, and it was the first time I’d felt like that since we became friends. I hated it, but it wasn’t just because he didn’t feel he could trust me with his obvious secret, but because I loved him, because I planned on telling him that tonight.
“Maybe I should go.” I said that more to myself than to him, and as I walked around the breakfast counter, I realized it wasn’t like I could escape this awkwardness. He’d driven me here. I was at his home. And the pain in my heart intensified, my chest becoming so tight I couldn’t breathe.
But just as I would have passed him, unsure where I was even going to go, he reached out and took hold of my hand with his. His skin was warm, his palm and fingers big as he engulfed mine.
“Abigail,” he said softly, but his voice was husky. The unspoken emotion was clear.
This was it. This was the part where he told he loved someone, that he hadn’t told me, because he thought it would make things weird between us, that we couldn’t hang out like we used to.
And I held my breath, waiting for that shoe to drop.
Chapter Seven
Abigail
We held each other’s gazes for long seconds, and it was when I heard him exhale that I finally breathed out, realizing I’d been holding my breath.
“Those conversation hearts are ones I had custom made,” he said softly, still holding my hand, his thumb moving along the back of my hand. “They were made for the girl I care deeply about.” He swallowed, this wide-eyed look crossing his face. “I love this girl, Abigail. I love her more than anything else.”
God. That hurt. That hurt so badly I was about to cry.