“Shots, ladies?” Chase asks as we enter the kitchen. He’s converted the corner breakfast nook into a makeshift bar, and has sprawled out along the booth with an expansive array of alcohol spread before him.
“Hell yes!” Brooke agrees, unsurprisingly. “Five day weekend!” She downs the alcohol.
“I’m good,” Sarah replies, which is also predictable. Brooke and Maggie have always been the wilder half of our quartet. Sarah and I have always trodden with more caution.
But I threw that into disarray a while ago.
“I’ll take one.” I hold my hand out.
I feel Brooke and Sarah’s eyes on me.
“Maeve, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sarah asks cautiously.
I don’t answer Sarah, I down the chilled liquid, making a face at the taste as it burns its way down my throat.
“Let her have some fun, Sarah. She’s had a rough few days,” Brooke says.
The roughest.
“What else do you have?” I ask Chase. He grins.
chapter twenty-four
Weston
“Yo, Cole, you in?” Chris calls as we head out to the parking lot.
“Yeah, sure,” I respond, loosening my tie as I head towards my car. “I’ll meet you there.” I’m glad I drove separately, since my parents bailed on the awards ceremony early for an “important work event.” I’m guessing that wasn’t entirely accurate, based on the hard set of my mother’s mouth all night, but for once I’m not focused on my parents’ fucked-up relationship.
I’ve got my own to worry about.
Just as I climb in the driver’s seat, I feel my phone vibrate. I pull it out, expecting it to be Chris asking me to pick something up on my way over.
It’s not. It’s her.
My pulse quickens as I unlock my phone. It’s been radio silence from Maeve since I showed up at her soccer practice. Based on the rumors swirling around Alleghany, I’m guessing there’s some speculation about us flying around Glenmont now, too. I don’t want to be, but I’m curious what she has to say.
It’s gibberish. JI missy uouu.
I think it’s entirely nonsensical at first. But, as I study the jumbled letters more closely, I realize that’s not true. She sent me a garbled version of I miss you. And there’s only one reason I can think of why she would have sent an error-ridden version of it. I tap her name, but her phone rings and rings without her answering. I try again; same result.
“Damn it.” I slam my palm against the steering wheel, trying not to imagine all the possible scenarios she could be in right now. Drunk for the first time. Alone, in the woods, with a guy . . . “Fuck!”
I open the location sharing app. She still shows up, so she hasn’t blocked me. And she’s showing up at a house in Glenmont. I’m tempted to take another swing at my steering wheel. I know I’ll never forgive myself if I go to Chris’s right now and something happens to her, no matter how angry I still am.
It doesn’t take long to plug the address into my GPS, and then I start driving. Belatedly, I wonder if I should have asked Chris or Charlie to come with me. Our make-up game against Glenmont is in three days, and I’m about to show up at one of their parties looking for Liam Stevens’ sister. I’ve never even interacted with anyone from Glenmont besides Maeve outside of football before. I know other guys who have gone to parties in Fayetteville, but I’m the Alleghany quarterback. I don’t have the luxury of anonymity. The only party outside of Alleghany I’ve been to is the one my cousin threw my freshman year. Where I first encountered Maeve.
I cross the boundary line into Glenmont, and drive another ten minutes before I park haphazardly in front of a large, white, Colonial-style house. I can hear music playing loudly inside as soon as I climb out of the car.
I don’t bother knocking; I just walk inside. There are only a few people standing in the front entryway when I enter the house, and all three of them stop talking and stare as soon as they see me. I keep striding forward, into what I quickly realize is the kitchen. The crowded room falls silent when I enter it, but my gaze is fixed on Maeve.
She’s leaning against the marble kitchen counter, laughing loudly with a brunette girl. I can’t help but drink in the sight of her as I walk over. She’s drunk, no doubt about it, but she also looks happy. Carefree. Her blonde hair is loose, and the light gray sweater she’s wearing is hanging off of one shoulder.
The shift in the atmosphere of the kitchen eventually reaches her, and she turns towards me right as I stop a couple feet from her.
Startled green eyes meet mine. “Wes,” she breathes. “What are you doing here?”
“You texted me.”
“I did?” She looks bewildered.
“You did,” I confirm.
“And you came?”
“Nothing gets past you, Stevens.” Her brunette friend laughs. “Come on, let’s go.”
“I don’t want to leave yet. I’m having fun.” She giggles slightly, as if to emphasize just how much fun she’s having.
“No, you’re not. You’re wasted. Let’s go, I’m supposed to be someplace else right now,” I urge impatiently. I can feel stares boring into my back, and I’m anxious to get out of here.
Ire flashes across Maeve’s features. “I don’t need you to babysit me, Wes.”
“Well, I don’t see anyone else volunteering to help you sober up.”
“I don’t need anyone’s help! I’m having fun, okay? I’m just trying to have some fun.”
“This isn’t how you have fun, Maeve. This isn’t you.”
“It isn’t? You already decided I’m a slut, might as well be a lush now too, right?” Spite dances in her green eyes.
I close my eyes and count to ten. “We’re not having this conversation right now.”
“Why? Because we’re in Glenmont? On my home turf? They all know already, anyway. I even told my English class we’ve had sex because Matt said you would dump me once you got in my pants.” I hear a few gasps behind me, and I rake my fingers through my hair, tempted to just toss Maeve over my shoulder. Of course she’d be a belligerent drunk.
“I said we’re not having this conversation right now, Maeve Elizabeth Stevens.” I level her with a hard look, and she finally shuts her mouth.
“That was your only one,” she reminds me.
“I know.”
She studies me, and then asks, “Did you win?”
For one wild moment, I think she’s asking about the staring match we’re locked in. Then, I realize she’s finally noticed what I’m wearing. I hate that she remembered.
“Yeah, I won.”
“I knew you would,” she says softly, and the tender expression on her face is worse than when she was talking about our sex life in front of half of Glenmont’s senior class. “I’m proud of you, Wes.” Something shifts in her expression. “I’m really mad at you, but I’m proud of you, too.”
“Not exactly thrilled with you at the moment either, Stevens,” I respond. Turning towards the fridge she’s standing next to, I open the door and pull a bottle of water out. I unscrew the cap and hand it to Maeve. “Drink this, we’re leaving.”
“I don’t want to leave,” she replies petulantly.
“We’ve covered that. But you’re drunk, and I’m not leaving you here like this.”
“So you’re the only one who’s allowed to get drunk and kiss other people?” At this point you could hear a pin drop in the kitchen, and it’s ironic, really, how we’ve gone from no one knowing anything about our relationship to acting as live entertainment for dozens.
“We’re not discussing this here, Maeve. I didn’t come to fight with you. I came because I was worried. Please, just let me take you home.”
Some of the confrontation finally drains from her posture.
“What the hell is going o—oh. What are you doing here, Cole?” Liam Stevens chooses this moment to enter the silent kitchen. His voice is carefully measured, but there’s a slight edge to it. Liam’s eyes shift to Mae
ve, giving away the answer to his own question. He knows. Either she told him, or Glenmont’s gossip mill did.
“I’m taking Maeve home,” I state, copying his emotionless tone.
“I’ll make sure she gets home, or one of her friends will. Maeve can leave whenever she wants to. She doesn’t need you bossing her around.”
“Well, seeing as you didn’t even notice she’s wasted, I don’t have a whole lot of confidence in your ability to do that,” I retort.
“Maeve’s not—”
“Yes she fucking is, and you of all people should not have let that happen!” I’m quickly losing my temper.
“What are you insinuating, Cole?”
“You know there’s a reason Maeve doesn’t drink, right?” I ask Liam.
He pales. “She told—”
Thankfully, Maeve finally decides to be agreeable. “It’s fine, Liam,” she tells her twin brother. “I’ll see you at home.” She whispers something to her friend and then starts towards me. She stumbles slightly as she does, and I automatically reach out to steady her. Rather than move away, she leans into me. Liam’s gaze bounces between us. “I thought you were in some big rush, Wes?” she adds pointedly when I don’t move.
I snort. Normally I appreciate Maeve’s spirit, but I’m not in the mood right now. “Don’t start, Stevens,” I warn.
She rolls her eyes at me and starts towards the doorway, swaying slightly.
“Jesus Christ,” I follow her, placing my hand on the small of her back to help steady her. “Where’s your jacket, Maeve? It’s freezing out.”
“Don’t have one.” She smirks up at me as the material of her thin sweater slips further down her shoulder. I sigh before pulling off my suit jacket and settling it on her shoulders.
“Let’s go.” She comes with me willingly, and no one else in the house says anything as we head out the front door and down the walkway.
“Nice parking job,” Maeve comments as we reach the curb. My car is crookedly angled against the cement divider.
“I didn’t think I’d be here for long.”
“You should have known better,” Maeve replies.
“Yeah, probably,” I admit. She’s stubborn sober.
She heads towards the passenger side, and fumbles with the handle. I sigh and follow her, opening it easily. She doesn’t climb right inside, though. She leans against the side of the car and stares at me.
“I’m sorry. I know I said some shit in there I shouldn’t have.”
“You’re drunk. That makes people do stupid stuff.”
“Yeah, it does,” she replies sadly, and I know we’re not just talking about her anymore. We’re talking about me, too. “I just wanted to try to forget for a while. But I didn’t. All I thought about was my dad . . . wondering what he was trying to forget. And you. I think about you a lot.”
“Maeve . . . ” I start, not sure what to say. Not sure what to even think anymore.
“Do you still not believe me?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. But I think I do know, and that’s terrifying in its own way.
Maeve nods and finally climbs in the car. It’s been my goal all along, but suddenly it’s the last thing I want her to do. I expected her to fight my words, to force me to tell her why I still think she cheated on me when everything since I saw that photo has pointed to the contrary. But she doesn’t. She just accepts my half-answer.
I guess it’s true what they say. The opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference. And that’s exactly what Maeve’s blank face conveys as she pulls the door shut, leaving me standing on the street. Alone. I walk around the car and climb in the driver’s seat, shutting my own door to block out the cold chill of the night air.
We sit in silence for a moment. I feel like I need to say something else, but I don’t know what. I don’t know how much I can give her.
“I thought you were in a big rush? I’m assuming it’s to get to some party?” Maeve finally asks. Her voice is quiet and emotionless.
She’s right, that was my primary goal in dragging her out of there as quickly as possible. And if the amount of buzzing my phone has been doing is any indication, my absence has definitely been noticed. But the thought of drinking beer with my teammates, dodging questions about the blonde sitting next to me, and shrugging off eager girls has rapidly become an unappealing one.
“I’m not walking home, so if you want to get there sometime soon then you’d better start driving.”
I almost laugh. Instead, I turn on the car, and the rush of warm air from the vents fills the silence between us.
“I need directions,” I admit to her. It’s bizarre, considering all that we’ve shared, both the good and the bad, but I’ve never been to her house. I have no idea where she lives.
Maeve laughs, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing. “Take a right at the end of the street. It’s eight houses down. The yellow bungalow.”
“You live one street over?”
“Uh-huh,” Maeve replies. “You going to make me walk now?”
“No, I’m not going to make you walk, Stevens,” I assure her as I start driving along. It doesn’t even take two minutes to reach her house. It’s homey. Quaint. Charming. Not where I would have pictured Liam Stevens living, but its cheerful color and inviting style fits Maeve. The windows are all dark.
“Your parents already went to bed?” I ask Maeve in surprise. It’s only just after ten.
“No, they’re gone for the night. My mom had some realtor conference in the city, and they’re spending the night at a hotel.”
“Oh. Do you need help getting inside?” I offer, even though I know it’s a monumentally stupid suggestion, especially since her parents are gone.
Thankfully, she shakes her head, although I also experience a rush of disappointment. Just another dip on the rollercoaster of contrary emotions Maeve Stevens elicits in me. “I’ll be okay,” she promises. “The water helped.” She holds up the almost empty water bottle for my inspection.
“Okay. Drink some more when you get inside,” I instruct.
“Unless—did you want to come in?” she asks tentatively as she shrugs off my suit jacket.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “That’s a bad idea, Maeve.”
“It’s just sex, Wes.”
“It’s never been just sex with you, Maeve,” I refute.
She doesn’t say anything else, she just climbs out of the car and shuts the door behind her. I sit in the driveway until I see her disappear inside, and then reverse and start driving towards Chris’s house.
Emotions swirl within me, and I’m not sure which one is most dominant: anger, annoyance, or regret.
I park in Chris’s driveway and head inside. The greeting I receive here is a stark contrast to what met me in Glenmont. Instead of silence, I hear cheers. Rather than a pair of wary green eyes, I’ve got dozens of girls trying to get near me. Evidently, they’ve taken the rumors about me and a girl from Glenmont as an invitation to become even more aggressive.
I brush past most of the people greeting me, and head into the kitchen.
“Where the fuck have you been, Cole?” Chris asks as he comes over to me. “I thought you were coming straight here from the banquet. It’s been almost an hour.”
“I got side-tracked.” There’s no chance he won’t hear I was at a party in Glenmont earlier, but I have zero interest in divulging that information right now. The suspicious glint in Chris’s eyes makes me think he suspects the truth, anyway.
I don’t really feel like drinking, but I head to the fridge and grab a can of beer to crack open anyway. Not drinking will raise more questions than sipping this for the rest of the night will. I lean against the counter next to the fridge, warring with myself. Finally, I pull out my phone. You feeling okay? I text Maeve.
She replies immediately, which I’m grateful for. Like crap but the world stopped spinning.
I smile despite myself. Drink more water.
&nbs
p; I already drank a ton she tells me. After a minute, I’ll drink more.
“So, Maeve Stevens, huh?” I look up from my phone to see Emily leaning against the kitchen island across from me.
“What do you mean?” I ask carefully.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s all over school, Wes. The girl you have feelings for? It’s Maeve Stevens, right? God, I should have put it together when she showed up at Josh’s after the Glenmont game. You’re not one to back down from a challenge, I’ll give you that. Liam Stevens’ sister? I mean, I get why you would go there, but her? I thought Maeve Stevens was a loyal goody two-shoes.”
“You don’t know anything about her, Emily.”
Emily appraises me. “Maybe not. But she’ll always be a girl from Glenmont. You’re a decent guy, Weston. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it was anything more than a fling.”
She pushes away from the counter, and the smile she gives me isn’t a mocking one. It’s a resigned one. She strolls away.
My phone vibrates in my hand. I look down to see Maeve’s sent me a photo. It’s of her, with two full water glasses on the table next to her. Her hair is damp, and she’s wearing a sweatshirt. My sweatshirt.
And I’m more confused than ever.
chapter twenty-five
Maeve
Thanksgiving is a mostly silent affair in my house. My father’s focused on the rescheduled game against Alleghany tomorrow night. Liam hasn’t talked to me since Wes picked me up from Chase’s party a couple nights ago. I’m too caught up in my own thoughts to contribute much. And my mother either has worries of her own, or picks up on the antisocial atmosphere at the table and remains mostly silent as well.
It starts raining just after we finish our meal. Despite the cold, wet weather, my father and Liam head out into the backyard to go over plays for what must be the millionth time. My mother busies herself in the kitchen storing all the leftovers, and I snag the sedan keys and head outside.
Kiss Now, Lie Later Page 20