Page 47
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Maya’s flight is an hour late, so by the time we get on the road, Atlanta’s rush hour traffic has us at a complete standstill.
“I’m so sorry,” Maya says for probably the tenth time. “I forgot how bad traffic is here.”
“It’s fine,” I repeat, since I’ve already told her that the last ten times she apologized.
“Well, I really appreciate you coming to get me since Reid is tied up. I should just rent a car while I’m here so I don’t have to inconvenience him all the time.”
“I think it’ll get easier now that hockey is starting,” I say. “He’ll be traveling and we all like to carpool to practice and on game nights.”
“I suppose.” She nods. She seems distracted, lost in thought, and I can’t help but dig in a little.
“So, I saw you were at some club the other night—looked like you were having fun.”
“Yeah, it was a good time. One of those places people go to see and be seen. I just go to dance.”
“So, uh, who’s Byron?” She’s probably going to kick my ass for being nosy.
“Why?” She turns to me with a furrowed brow.
“You guys looked cozy, that’s all.”
“Seriously?” she demands. “First, you thought I was dating my brother. Now you’re all weird about one of my friends.”
“I’m not being weird!” I say defensively. “I’m just…curious.”
“You sound jealous,” she accuses. “And I don’t understand why because you made it clear you weren’t interested!”
“I never said I wasn’t interested!” I snap, my fingers tightening on the wheel. “I said that I needed you to be patient because I’m a hot mess…I absolutely did not say I wasn’t interested.”
“It’s the same thing!” she snaps, throwing up her hands. “You don’t get to friend zone me in one breath and then get all possessive the minute you see me with another guy.”
She’s right, of course, but I refuse to admit it.
I’m ornery that way.
Stubborn too.
“Well?” she demands when I don’t say anything.
“Well what?” I grunt. “You’re right but you’re wrong.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I like you, okay?” I don’t dare look at her. “I want to spend time with you—but I also don’t want to break your heart.”
“Then don’t. It’s pretty fucking simple, Cash.”
Nothing to do with Maya is simple. That’s the problem.
“I can’t promise you forever.”
“Did I ask for that?” she counters.
“No, but you—”
“Please don’t deign to tell me what I think or feel.”
