Five things, p.5
Five Things, page 5
She gasps when I lean closer, my mouth hovering just over hers.
I can feel the tension seeping from her, soaking into me, but it’s not enough to stop this. Her mouth gapes, and she studies my face before settling on my chest. Her breath shortens as she opens and closes her mouth in quick succession. Her fingers tap against her thigh, a rhythm I don’t recognize.
The hallway disappears from around us, and she’s the only person I can see as one of my hands leaves the wall, curling around a strand of hair that’s slipped free from her braid.
“Hey, Bumblebee.” She pulls in a shuddering breath, her eyes snapping up to mine. “Long time no see, huh?”
Chapter Six
Beatrice
Bumblebee . . .
God, how long it has been since I’ve heard that nickname and that voice. It’s deeper than I remember, huskier but richer too. Where once he would have said the moniker with warmth and joy, now there’s anger and hurt laced within it.
Maverick crowds me, overwhelming every one of my senses until the world around us dissipates. He smells of fresh soap and mint, but underneath it is like a warm spring day, welcoming after a long winter . . . but that’s not right.
There’s nothing welcoming in the way his eyes turn to steel as they linger on mine, or the way he cages me in with one arm locked at the side of my head and his free hand fiddling with the loose strands of my hair.
The backward baseball cap he wears hides most of his dark hair, though a few strands slip past, dipping to his brow, and the hoodie he wears is oversized, covering the muscles I know he sports underneath.
My heart constricts, my throat burning as I try to swallow over the lump lodged there. Maisie squeaks beside us, but I can’t force my eyes away from his long enough to reassure her.
Shadows come either side of Maverick’s frame, but he pays them no attention, keeping his gaze solely on me.
“Nothing to say?” he murmurs, his mouth hovering over me. The mint on his breath tickles my nose, the warmth fanning over my cheeks. “Probably for the best, though, right? Since the only thing you can do when you open your mouth is lie.”
“Mav—” I breathe, my voice cracking as his finger tugs at the hair wrapped around it. Despite the frustration and annoyance I feel rolling off him, his touch is as gentle as it’s ever been where I’m concerned.
“Did you get my message?”
“That was you? Why?”
“You showed up to my school, Beatrice,” he says, sliding his hand to the back of my head and tugging it backward until I’m looking up at him. “You don’t belong here. You’re not welcome here.”
Maverick was always one of the tallest guys around at six feet four, he’s broader now and more imposing than ever as he towers over me, his words wrapping around my heart.
“I di-n.” I cough, pulling in a shaky breath as I count to ten in my head, composing myself enough to speak clearly. “I didn’t know you went here.”
He laughs, but it comes out dry and distorted. Nothing like the Maverick I once knew.
Everything about the man standing in front of me now is different. There’s an edge to him there never was before, the way he holds his body coiled tight like a cobra waiting to strike . . . am I his prey?
And if so, why, then—when he drags his eyes from my face, running them over every inch of me—does my body heat under the caress of his gaze, goose bumps following the lines his gray irises trace over my skin.
“Well, now you know that I do,” he says, stepping closer. His chest presses against mine, and his heart beats erratically, his pulse threading at his neck. “So you need to leave.”
Shaking my head, I ignore the way my body trembles under him and blood rushes to my center.
I may have fucked up two years ago, but I won’t cower to him today, nor will I allow him to know the visceral response my body has to him now.
“I won’t run, Maverick. You don’t scare me.”
“No?” He cocks his head before pressing his lips to my ear. “I could ruin you, Beatrice. Just like you did me.”
My eyes flutter closed as his teeth close around my earlobe, nipping lightly at the skin. Maverick Brady may hate me—with good reason—but his body doesn’t, and that’s why I know I have nothing to fear from him.
“You won’t,” I whisper, forcing my eyes open when he pulls away from me.
He steps back, and the sounds of the hall rush my ears. Maisie tugs at my hand and tries to pull me away, but I shake my head at her, never taking my eyes off him.
He stares at me, his head cocked to one side as he waits for me to continue.
“Ruining me would hurt me, and that’s something you’d never be able to do. So do your worst, Mav, try. Because it can’t be any worse than what I’ve done to myself over the last two years.”
He brings his thumb to his mouth, swiping it over his bottom lip for a beat before gripping my chin and pulling my face to his. The thumb that grazed his lip runs along mine, and I bite my tongue against the moan that threatens to slip. “Don’t tempt me, Beatrice.”
Pacing back and forth over the floor, Mom’s voice bounces around the kitchenette, her face a sheet of white as she watches me through the screen of my phone. “Beatrice.”
“No, Mom,” I snap, stopping in front of my phone and dropping down until my face is visible in the bottom corner. “You didn’t think I needed to know that he was here? You told me he moved to the other side of the damn country.”
“Honey . . .” She closes her eyes, sighing as Dad’s head pops up over her shoulder. He wraps a hand around her, placing a kiss on her head before glancing at me. She peels her eyes open, the ghost of a smile passing over her lips as she says quietly down the line, “You were so excited.”
“What?”
“When you came to us, with the college application in your hand, you seemed excited,” she tells me, tears springing to her eyes. “It was the first time in over a year and a half that I’d seen even a glimmer of something in your eyes. You had hope, Beatrice. You really wanted to do this.”
Maisie sits at the counter, her eyes curious as she flicks between my phone and me. The moment Maverick walked away, I stomped back to my car, my thumb pressing down on Mom’s number. I had no hope of losing Maisie as she hopped into the passenger’s seat, locking herself in with me when I pulled away and started toward my dorm.
“You didn’t even mention any other colleges to us, it was Braylee University or nothing,” Mom continues, pulling my gaze back to her.
“I couldn’t,” I whisper, my chest tightening at the sorrow written all over her face. “They were all just so far away.”
“I know,” she says softly, smiling wryly at me. “And that’s why I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you think I lied, but I thought I was doing what was best for you.”
“Isn’t that what we’re good at, Mom?” I ask. “Lying because we think it’s the best thing? Is it ingrained into the Fletcher family? Because apparently, we’re all pro’s at it.”
“Beatrice Marie Fletcher.” I jolt at the harsh tone, my mouth gaping in surprise. My mom doesn’t shout, or even raise her voice a little with me. She hasn’t for a long time, even on the days when I probably deserved it. I think she’s always been too fearful of the reaction she may get. “Don’t you dare. I should have told you; you are right about that. But I can see the wheels turning in your head, and we aren’t going to do this today.”
“Mom—”
“No, Beatrice. It’s my turn to talk now,” she says, leaning forward until the only thing filling my screen is her face. “You made a mistake when you were seventeen. You lied to protect yourself. Just as I lied to protect you. Nobody can blame you for that.”
A dry laugh slips past my lips as I mumble under my breath, “Someone can.”
My dad sighs, nudging Mom away from the screen until his pale eyes are on me. “Maverick is angry at the world, Beatrice, and rightfully so, in some ways,” Dad says. “But it’s not on you. He also made a choice back then.”
“You didn’t see him, Dad. And he’s right to be angry at me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see.” I sigh, resuming my pacing.
“Oh, Beatrice,” Dad says, stopping me in my tracks. A tear has rolled free over my lashes, and I swipe it away with my sweater before bringing my hand to my mouth and chewing on my thumb.
“Whether he’s right to be angry doesn’t change the facts. You and he both made choices that, looking back, maybe you would have made different ones, but you can’t change that now. All you can do is move forward and move on. Give it a chance, Little One. Maybe finding your way back to each other is another part of your healing journey.”
“Yeah.” I scoff, not believing that for even a second.
We stay on the phone a little longer, the conversation moving as Maisie says hello to my parents, and they spend a couple minutes talking to, and getting to know her.
By the time we’re saying our goodbyes, my body is fraught with tension, and the skin on my lip is raw from how much I’ve chewed it. Silence follows the line going dead, and Maisie watches me, her eyes soft and a slight frown on her lips as I tug the hair ties from the end of my braids and release the strands of hair, massaging my fingers over my scalp.
“Wanna go get a drink? And I’m not talking about the caffeinated kind.”
I shrug, not really a drinker, but she shakes her head and pulls me toward the door. Grabbing my keys from the counter where I chucked them, she locks the door behind us and stuffs them into the back pocket of her jeans.
Less than an hour later, we’re sitting tucked away in a booth at a small bar, where, luckily, we don’t get carded every time Maisie orders a fresh cocktail. The fruity liquid is sweet, and way too moreish as it slides down my throat.
“Ready to talk?” Maisie asks, fiddling with the pink straw of her glass.
Sighing, I push my now-empty glass away and grab a napkin to wipe up the condensation that has dripped onto the table. I’m procrastinating, I know, and Maisie is right. She deserves to know at least a little of the history between Maverick and me, if only to understand his anger toward me and the conversation she heard with my parents.
But my stomach curdles as I open my mouth, and the only thing I hope is that she doesn’t look at me differently afterward. We may have only been friends for a few days, but friendship is something I’ve been seriously missing recently.
“Maverick, the guy from the hall?” She nods, keeping her expression neutral as she listens. “I’ve known him since elementary. We moved into town when I was eight years old ’cause Dad needed to be closer to the studio his band bought. Maverick’s sister, Willow, and I became inseparable from the moment we met in English class, and wherever Willow was, he was always two steps behind. They weren’t just siblings, they were best friends, so when we became friends, he was like a package deal. You got her? You also got him.
“Where Willow was my best friend, Maverick was something else entirely. Not a friend, exactly, not a brother, just . . . something else. But when I was fourteen, and I finally started noticing boys, I met my ex, Sebastian. He was everything you wanted your first boyfriend to be. Kind and charming. He drew me in instantly.”
Maisie nods, silently ordering another couple of drinks from the waiter while I lose myself in memories. “I thought I was so cool, you know. The cute, older boy asked me to be his girlfriend, and how could I say no?”
My heart races as I talk about him, and my hands prickle with beads of sweat as memories flash through my mind.
“At the start, he was so nice. Always buying me little presents, taking me on cute dates, but as the first year passed, he started to change.”
The drink in front of me tastes bitter now as I close my lips around the straw, suckling gently to try and clear my suddenly dry mouth.
“Bea,” Maisie starts, her eyes soft as she watches my hands tremble around the glass. I shake my head, heaving in a deep breath.
I’ve never spoken about this to anyone but my therapist, not even my mom and dad. I’ve always been too ashamed of my relationship with Sebastian. Logically, I know not any of it was my fault, but that doesn’t stop the shame that washes over me every time I think of him and our years together.
But something is telling me I can trust Maisie with these things and she’ll listen without judgment, so I keep going.
“I’ll never forget the first time he hurt me,” I whisper, closing my eyes so I don’t have to look at her face and see whatever horrified expression is staring back at me. “I’d been hanging out with Maverick the day before. We watched a few movies in his parents’ theater room. Willow was at a study session, and Nash—Mav’s best friend—was busy with his girlfriend at the time, so it was just the two of us.
“We’d done it a hundred times before, so it wasn’t even a thought in my head that I was doing anything wrong. But when Sebastian came over to my house the next day, it was like something possessed him the minute I said Maverick’s name.
“I’m not even sure he had a conscious thought at that moment, but he just grabbed me out of nowhere and pushed me across my room. My head smacked the wall, and God, did it hurt. And he just froze, his hands suspended in midair.”
A harsh intake of breath sounds across the table, a hand closing on mine and squeezing gently.
“My mom came running up the stairs, she must have heard the bang when I fell. She walked through the door just as I got up, and I was so close to telling her what happened, so fucking close.” I laugh, though there’s no humor behind it. “But he looked at me with these big sad blue eyes, mouthing his apologies over and over again. So, I told her I fell, tripped over my school bag.”
The napkin in my hands falls to the table in pieces, broken apart as I am. “That was the first time I ever told a lie in my life. But it wasn’t the last.”
“Why did you stay with him?” she asks softly.
“Because I loved him, or I thought I did. And he loved me. We were so young, and I believed him when he said he’d never do it again.” A tear spills down my cheek, and I run my hand through my hair, holding my breath for a long moment. “I was wrong, so very wrong. Over the next two years, he just got worse.”
As the hours tick by, Maisie learns every single painful detail of what happened during my three-year relationship with Sebastian Marks, finally finishing on that last day. The last time I saw both Sebastian and Maverick. “I lied, again. For Sebastian.”
“Oh,” Maisie breathes, tears streaming over her lashes as she pushes off her seat, rushing over to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulder. She cries against me, offering me warmth and comfort, though it does nothing to stave the chill settling in my bones. “I’m so sorry, Beatrice. So. Fucking. Sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” I ask, pulling away from her. Where she sniffles softly, wiping her nose with a napkin from the table, all I feel is empty.
Not good, not bad, just numb.
“You really don’t see it, do you?” I tilt my head, chewing on my lips in confusion. “Beatrice, you survived. You did what you had to do to survive, and if Maverick can’t see and understand that, then he’s a fool.”
“I ruined his life, Mais.”
“What your dad said on the phone earlier?” I nod. “He’s right. Neither of you deserve what you’ve been through. None of it is your fault, Beatrice. You were just a child who was afraid, and the fact you’re still standing, that you’re still alive after everything, that’s a fucking miracle. If Maverick Brady can’t get his head out of his ass long enough to realize that, then you’re better off without him in your life anyway.”
Maverick
She hops out of an Uber, the door slamming behind her as the girl she was with in the hall earlier ambles around on unsteady feet, gripping her arm as giggles fall from their lips.
My hands clench at my sides, my muscles tensing as her head tips back, and she beams at something the other girl says. I’ve spent all day angry and confused. When I left the hall, a slither of guilt wormed its way inside me, coiling in the pit of my stomach, and for what?
She’s not upset . . . she’s happy.
She comes into my space, stealing my comfort, and still it doesn’t affect her.
“What’s your plan, Mav?” Nash asks, hopping up onto the bench beside me. His legs swing back and forth as he flips the ball between his hands. I swear the dude can’t sit still for longer than thirty seconds, he always has to be doing something.
“She needs to go.”
“Does she?” He cocks his head, his eyes following her as she meanders over the asphalt. She loses her footing as her friend tumbles into her, and my heart jolts as she stumbles to the ground, barely catching herself and saving her face when her hands slap across the concrete. “She’s not the same girl as back then. While I may have only caught the last of your little encounter in the hall, I saw enough. She’s stronger than she was.”
“Then I’ll find a way to weaken her.” She pushes off the ground, her hair blocking her face. The strands are loose now, falling to the middle of her stomach, and the urge to feel the softness of them in my fist is almost overwhelming. “She’s a headfuck, Nash. For two years I’ve pushed her to the back of my mind, along with what she did. What I did for her. I can’t do that with her here.”
“So what? You push her away, and then what, she leaves and goes back to whatever life led her here in the first place while you’re still barely a shell of the guy you were before it all went down. Is that really what you want? You’ve never been a revengeful guy, Maverick. Don’t become one now.”
“So I’m just supposed to just let her live her happy life when all I can do is live in the past? Maybe I’ve changed, maybe all I want is to be the revengeful guy. People can change, Nash.”
“Not that much.” He follows me, slamming his hand on my door before I can pull it open. His brow is raised and his lips straight as he stares at me. “I get it, you went through something I can’t begin to understand. But, fuck, dude, you’ve let people drill a bunch of bullshit so far into your head where that girl is concerned, and you need to wake up to the truth.”
