“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, that 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 youwantto 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.”
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 toward 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.
I don’t really feel like drinking, but I head to the fridge and grab a can of beer to crack open. 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.