With the world closing in on me, my mind goes over everything, from our time in the closet in high school, to when he came to my bedroom the other night telling me he needed to be seen with the right kind of people. Blood drains to my toes as I consider the two word answer he gave me this morning, and I can’t forget how we always went out of town for meals, and he hid me behind his big body every time we ran into someone at Wolf House. Is he embarrassed by me? My God, he must be. How could I have been so wrong about him? Was I nothing more than an easy lay, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks to have a little fun with, finish what he started back in that closet?
Was I nothing to him? Was he simply slumming?
As all sets of eyes stare at me, a couple with worry, a few with venom, I turn to Chelsea and spit out, “Yeah, you’re perfect for each other.”
25
Christian
“Are you fucking serious?” With my nerves on edge, I pace back and forth in my bedroom, my phone in my hand. I keep glancing at it, but have yet to receive a response from Maize, which is making me a little—or a lot—insane. This isn’t like her, and that has my brain running in a million different directions, none of them good.
“Yeah, okay, I get it.” Linc leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees. “I’m a dick.”
“Dude.”
His head lifts, and I take in the dark circles around his eyes. My heart pinches, because I know he’s hurting. Steph did a number on him and I don’t want to beat him up over this, not when he’s so down.
“I know…I slept with Chelsea, and I’m one hundred percent sure she thought I was you.” He groans and I shake my head. I can’t believe the giggling I heard last night was Chelsea, in bed with my best friend. I went with the theory that Linc had some girl on speakerphone, or that he was watching porn on his phone. I had no idea there was an actual girl in my room. What the hell was she thinking? Oh, probably that by sleeping with her again, I’d remember how good we were together, and ask her to marry me? But we weren’t good together. Ever. Not like Maize and I are. Fuck, why isn’t she answering me?
“I went with it anyway.” He rubs at his sleepy eyes. “Hey, I did say I’d run interference, didn’t I?” He grins, but it looks more like a cringe. “That’s really taking one for the team.”
“She must have known it was you come morning, right?” I ask and pace to my window to look out, check to make sure her car isn’t on the street and she’s still lurking somewhere in this house. My search comes up empty. “I can’t have her thinking it was me.”
“Yeah, she left quickly. Probably got one look at this handsome face,” he says and scrubs his chin. “And bolted after she realized she wasn’t in bed with you.”
“You sure?” Nervousness swells inside me.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He reaches for his phone. “Christ, I can ask her if you want.”
I give a hard shake of my head as Linc looks at me through one eye, like it’s too painful to open both with a hangover. “Let’s just let it be. If she comes around, we’ll talk about it.” I check my phone again. Why the hell isn’t Maize responding? She better not be out with that Ryan Reynolds lookalike. I take a couple fast breaths to calm myself down. I really didn’t like the way he touched her the day I dropped her off. It makes me wonder if he’s been in love with the girl next door all this time. “I thought she went home last night.”
He pokes the mattress. “Nope, she was in this bed waiting to play hide the sausage.” He shrugs. “There’s a chance she knew it was me from the beginning, though. Maybe she heard you tell me to grab a room, and snuck up here first.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I need coffee. Lots of it.”
“Okay, come on.” Since we’re the same size, and I doubt he wants to climb back into his formal wear, I go to my closet and grab him a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
He dresses and we head down to the kitchen and I find Dad sitting there reading the paper. He sets it down as we enter. “Good morning, son, Linc. Did you boys have a nice time last night?”
“Yeah, great night,” I say. “How about you?”
“I always enjoy our annual Christmas party.” He eyes Linc, and chuckles. “I think perhaps someone enjoyed it a bit too much.”
“It’s the tequila, it’ll get you every time,” Linc says with a laugh.
Dad takes a drink of coffee, and I notice the half empty cup in front of Mom’s chair. I’m about to ask where she is, when she comes back into the room, her cell phone in her hand.
“Christian, I think it’s a good time we had a talk, don’t you?”
I stare at my mother and try to figure out what she’s getting at but I’m so preoccupied, my mind on Maize’s radio silence, on Linc sleeping in my bed with Chelsea, I can’t comprehend her words. I arch a brow, and pour two mugs of coffee handing one to Linc, who looks like death as he drops down into one of the spare seats.
I toss a cube of sugar into my cup, and look at Mom. “What are you talking about?”
“This girl you
