“You sure you don’t want a shot before you go?” Colson’s pouring tequila in a slew of glasses and small plastic cups.
“I’ll take one.” I walk forward.
“Uh-oh, she wasn’t kidding about the drinking,” Leyla says.
“I told you.” I raise an eyebrow, take the glass from Colson, and the four of us take a shot together.
I shiver as the liquid runs through my veins and laugh when the three of them start poking at me about the drinking. I shoot one last glance in Maverick’s direction and find that he’s still staring at me, before I turn with my friends and leave. I should probably talk to him and apologize for earlier. I hate arguing with him and not clearing the air about things, but I’m also hurt right now, so I decide to sit with my feelings a little longer. At the end of the day, Maverick and I will always be in each other’s lives one way or another, but these emotions I feel for him are too strong to deny and too terrifying to name. I need to know what I’m going to say the next time I’m able to talk to him seriously so that I don’t hurt either one of us.
Chapter Eighteen
Maverick
“Why’d they leave?” Mitchell asks as we watch Rocky and her friends leave. “Aren’t they going to the same place we are?”
“I guess they don’t want to ride with us.”
“Weird.” My brother looks over at me. “Is Rocky still pissed off at you because of the party you had here without telling her?”
“No.”
“Something else?”
“No. I don’t know. Why are you asking so many questions?” I shoot him a look.
“Calm down, I’m just being a good brother. Jagger isn’t here to ask his thousand and one questions, so it’s my responsibility to make sure everything is okay.”
“Everything is fine.”
“You sure?” He assesses me closely. “You’ve been acting weird as hell lately.”
“Everything is fine, Mitch. I’m just focused on hockey and school.”
“Really? Cause Mom told me something about Rocky and—”
“She what?” I blink. “Do you have nothing better to do than to discuss my private life?”
“Private life?” He laughs, throwing his head back. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had a fucking private life. What are you, an A-list celebrity? I’m your brother, you asshole. Why didn’t you tell me about Rocky?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s not what Mom said.” He raises an eyebrow.
“You are such an old lady. Why are you gossiping with Mom?”
“Oh, yeah.” He scoffs. “You gossip with Mom all the freaking time. It’s how I know about this, to begin with.”
“Well, according to Mom, you’re lusting after Misty and haven’t done anything about it.”
“Mom said that?” His jaw drops. “She said lusting?”
“She didn’t say lusting, but it was clear enough that’s what she meant.”
“Well, I’m not.” He frowns. “Why are you discussing that anyway?”
“See? It’s not cool. Stop talking about me behind my back.”
“You act like we’re talking bad about you. We discussed you in passing.”
“In passing.” I roll my eyes. “What does that even mean?”
“It means stop being so damn weird about it and talk to me.”
“I’m not being weird.” I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them, my brother’s green eyes are still on mine. “I don’t even know what’s going on, okay? We kissed this morning and then she acted like it was the end of the world and basically told me to fuck off and that she didn’t want to be with me.”
“What?” Mitch looks as confused as I feel. “Rocky said that?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.” He shakes his head. “No wonder you’re acting strange.”
“I just need to speak to her and pray things go back to normal.”
“Is that what you want?” Mitch searches my face.
“Yo, let’s go,” Colson shouts from somewhere in the house. “Ubers are here.”
“I just want my friend back,” I say as my brother and I walk toward the door.
“Even if that means you’ll have to pretend you’re not falling for her?”
“Yep.”
“That’s wild, Maverick.” Mitchell shakes his head.
“Life’s wild.” I shrug a shoulder. “I’m just trying to live mine in peace.”
Peace is bullshit. I’m watching Brian and Rocky from the far side of the room and I’m hating every excruciating minute of it. He keeps touching her. She keeps laughing. They keep drinking. I keep thinking about this afternoon, how I had her in my lap, how perfect she felt against me, how easy it would have been for me to fuck her right there. I don’t regret stopping it from happening, but I definitely regret how I reacted to everything afterwards. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve demanded a conversation. I should’ve explained myself and why I didn’t fuck her when she gave the okay. I should’ve told her a million things, but I didn’t because even though I know I give the best advice out of my friend group, I can’t seem to take my own.