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I still didn’t quite understand why Nix had asked Max to sit near us, but he had, and I guess that meant something.
We reached the parking lot only to find Marc waiting for us. He stepped forward and smirked. “You would have looked better in my jersey.” His eyes walked the length of me, slowly dragging back up.
“Don’t you have a party to get to?” Nate said, and I didn’t miss the way he moved closer, his arm brushing mine.
“Come on, cous, I gotta know. Does she fuck as good as she—”
“Asshole,” Nate spat.
“At least we know what side you’re really on. Although I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised you decided to shack up with Little Miss Trailer Trash.”
“Go to hell, Marc.”
It occurred to me then that Marc really thought there was something going on between me and Nate.
I didn’t know how to feel about that. But I didn’t say anything.
“You know, Harleigh, if you want to experience what it’s like to be with a real man, I’m right here, baby.”
Chloe snorted at that.
“Something funny?” Marc cut her with a scathing look.
“Nothing you—”
“What do you want, Marc?” I stepped forward, trying to de-escalate things.
“You think you’re so fucking—”
“Yo, Denby,” Max called, appearing from nowhere.
“That you, Rowe?”
“Good game, man.” Max sauntered up to Marc as if they were best friends. “Too bad the Hawks got the win.”
“Barely.” Marc grumbled.
“You headed to Ange’s party?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Nice, guess we’ll see you there.” Max nudged Toby.
“Jesus, I feel sorry for you, related to those two.” He glanced over at me and Celeste.
“It is what it is.” Max met my irritated gaze and discreetly flicked his head to our cars.
What was he—
An escape.
Max was giving us an escape.
“Come on,” I said to Nate, as Max and Toby asked him a question about the game.
We hovered near the cars, making no move to get in.
“He is such a grade-A ass,” Chloe said. “What’s his and Nate’s deal?”
