Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RAINE
E verett left an hour ago for his date. I keep telling myself the only reason I’m bothered is because if Drake finds out, it’ll ruin everything. If only I believed it.
Ev likely won’t be home until after midnight, and neither will the rest of the guys since there’s an away game today, leaving me with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs.
With popcorn popped, I prop my bare feet on the coffee table when my phone buzzes. Again. Finley created a group chat with me and the rest of her friends. I didn’t think it would have much traction, but ever since we hung out at the cabin, it’s basically been buzzing nonstop. Especially today.
Finley
Aaaalright, ladies. Drew pissed me off again, so I want a girls’ night out with zero men. What do you think?
Ophelia
I think there isn’t a chance in hell Everett lets Raine out of his sight.
Dylan
Yeah, I’ve been meaning to thank you for getting Everett off my back, Raine. I used to be his pet project until Reeves came around, but it seems he’s right back to his bossy ways. How are things with you two, anyway? I heard your kiss at the party last week was STEAMY.
Usually, I’m a lurker in these kinds of group chats, but when I’m called out like this, I’m left with no choice. Wiping my fingers on a napkin, I pick my phone up but hesitate, unsure what to say because honestly? Well, for starters, the kiss has been haunting me ever since it happened, and so has his absence ever since. Maybe not literally. We do still live in the same house, after all. But in every other way, he’s been…distant. We’ve barely even crossed paths.
I’m not sure if it’s because I offended him, or if he thinks our arrangement will end soon, and getting to know me isn’t worth the effort anymore, or…I don’t even know.
He’s probably right about our arrangement coming to an end, though. I haven’t heard a thing from Drake, and whatever spies Reeves has informed him of the same thing. Drake’s lying low. He might’ve even thrown in the towel despite his last words to me at game night.
My phone buzzes with another message.
Dylan
Fine, fine, you can tell me about the steamy kiss later. I also heard about the wedding tonight. How are you holding up?
Ophelia
Wait, what wedding?
Dylan
Everett’s covering another job for Ollie.
Ophelia
Ouch.
Yeah.
Dylan
If it helps, Ev called Ollie last night and tried to get out of it. Again. So, don’t stress, Raine. You’re still definitely the only girl for Everett.
My heart stalls in my chest before I type my response.
Me
I’m not Everett’s girl, remember? I’m his FAKE girl. There’s a difference.
Finley
For now ;) But back to the question at hand. SeaBird? Yay or nay? Please, please, please. I need a girls' night.
Ophelia
As long as I have time to go home and shower after my game, I’m in.
Ophelia is the goalie for LAU’s Lady Hawks. I check the time on my phone, confirming their game is supposed to start in less than an hour as my phone chimes with another notification.
Dylan
I’m in too.
Me
I think I have to pass.
Finley
Why?!
Me
Everett’s at the wedding, so…
Finley
So? You’ll be with us. He’ll be fine.
Dylan
I think you’re severely underestimating your brother.
Ophelia
I agree with Dylan. Maybe if Maverick comes?
Finley
No deal. Don’t get me wrong. I adore Maverick, but I also kind of want to stab anyone with a penis at the moment, so if you have any desire to bear children with the man, it’s probably a good idea for him to stay out of this one.
Despite not having a penis, I cross my legs and grimace because I really wouldn’t put it past Finley, especially if Drew has already fanned the flame of masculine hate. And honestly, it’s kind of sad. The image I have of Finley’s boyfriend despite never meeting him.
Me
What’d Drew do this time?
Ophelia
Ha! Raine’s only been around for a little while, and even SHE’s starting to see a pattern here. What does it say about Drew, Fin?
Finley
It says you guys are all buttheads.
Finley
PS- I changed my mind. I’m going to the source and am talking to my brother. Raine, be ready by 9 pm. I’ll come grab you.
My eyes pop as I read her message, and I sit up a little straighter, wiping the popcorn crumbs from my tank top.
Me
You don’t have to. It’s like an hour out of the way.
Finley
More time for me to plot my boyfriend’s death.
Ophelia
Okay, I gotta go. Jaxon’s gonna kill me if he sees me texting before the game. See you later!
Me
Who’s Jaxon?
Dylan
Jaxon is my oldest brother. He’s also the coach for the Lady Hawks.
Me
Oh yeah! The guy looking for Rory. I remember now. It's way fun that he coaches the Lady Hawks.
Dylan
Yeah, he likes it, even though it kills my dad sometimes since Jax was basically a hockey god but “retired” so he could coach the girls’ team. Anywho, I should probably go too. Finley, want to carpool?
Ophelia
We live together, so I’m gonna go with…duh ;) See you guys!
Me
See ya.
I didn’t know what to wear, but I settled on ripped jeans and a cropped sweater that exposes one shoulder. It must work because Finley whistles when I open the front door, locking it behind me. The weather is cooler tonight, and I can’t help but wonder if it will snow. Then again, maybe it’s wishful thinking. I love the snow. The way it muffles the noise around you. The way you can taste it. The way it burns your lungs if you breathe in too deep. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. And makes you want to snuggle under a blanket. Seriously, what’s not to love?
Putting aside my wistfulness, I head toward Finley’s car when my phone rings. I pull it out to see Everett’s calling.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey.”
Silence follows, and my brows tug. A million questions race through my mind. How’s the wedding? Is his date pretty? Is her family nice? Does he regret going? Did he kiss her the same way he kissed me? The last thought brings a sharp pain to my chest, but I breathe through the strange ache.
“Are you…already finished with the wedding?” I ask.
“Nah. Needed to step away for a minute.”
“Oh.” I stop moving, unsure what else to say. A minute? Why does he need a minute? And why is he calling me during said minute?
“What are you doing?” he prods.
“Nothing really.” Forcing my feet to move, I close the last bit of distance between me and the car, open the back door, and climb inside. “Finley just picked me up, and?— ”
“Where are you going?”
“Shit, are you talking to my brother?” Finley interrupts from the front seat.
I glance at her, then close my eyes, hoping to block her out. “Uh, we’re going?—”
“You shouldn’t be going anywhere,” he reminds me. It isn’t bossy or rude. It’s…confused.
Why is he confused?
My eyes pop open, and I stare at Finley. “Did you not call Ev?”
She grimaces. “I knew he’d say no.”
“Knew I’d say no to what?” Everett asks through the speaker. “Finley?—”
“Nothing!” she calls sweetly, then mouths, “Hang up the phone.”
“Raine,” Everett warns.
Plugging my opposite ear, I explain, “Finley invited me out for a girls’ night.”
“You can’t go out.”
“Why not?”
“What about Drake?”
“What about him?” I ask. “He hasn’t even reached out since the game night.”
“It’s a bad idea,” he pushes.
“Seriously?” I laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. Drake’s an abusive ass, but it’s not like he’ll toss me over his shoulder and drag me away if I run into him.”
“Stay. Home.”
“Everett, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I didn't ask for your help only for you to keep me prisoner," I point out. “You asked if I had plans tonight, and…now I do. Not a big deal.”
Something muffled echoes through the speaker, and Everett calls out, “Be right there, babe! ”
Babe.
He’s talking to her.
Why do I care that he’s talking to her? Especially when I’m well aware his relationship with her is fake. Then again, his relationship with me is fake, too, which I think we can both agree is for the best. So, what the hell is my problem?
“Raine? You still there?” Everett adds into his cell. He sounds…tense. Like a small part of him already knows what I’m thinking even if neither of us would ever admit it.
“I gotta go.”
“Raine—”
“Finley’s already offered to drive me home after, so I’ll see you at the cabin. Have a great night.” I hang the phone up and open my eyes, finding Dylan and Finley staring at me, their jaws practically unhinged.
“Did you just hang up on Everett?” Dylan asks from the passenger seat.
Did I just hang up on Everett?
Yup. Yup, I most definitely did. He’s going to be furious.
“I, uh…”
They both laugh, turning back in their seats.
As Finley reverses out of the driveway, she points out, “Well this just got even more interesting.”
Ophelia’s already waiting at the bar when we head inside SeaBird. She has a fruity drink in front of her, along with two more matching beverages and what looks like a Diet Coke beside them.
When she sees us, she stands from her barstool and waves. “Hey!” Ophelia passes hugs around like they’re confetti, then offers each of us a drink. “PS—Maverick says he should get a free shot to Drew’s balls since we’re ditching him tonight.”
Finley laughs. “Nope. Drew’s balls are mine to squeeze or caress, thank you very much.”
“Caress?” Dylan snorts. “Ew.”
“Hey, no kink-shaming,” Ophelia quips. “Whatever floats your boat. Right, Fin?”
“Mm-hmm,” Finley hums as she takes a long sip of her Diet Coke. “Though there will be no caressing anytime soon, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Are you gonna tell us what happened?” I prod.
Rolling her eyes, Finley decides, “Not until everyone’s had at least three drinks so they don’t judge me too harshly.”
“You sure you’ll even remember the story at that point?” I tease.
She smiles around her straw. “I don’t drink, so I think I’ll be fine.”
My brows jump. “You don’t drink?”
“Nope.”
“Good for you.”
“Meh. Don’t be too impressed,” she teases, heading toward one of the open booths as we trail behind. Once we’re all settled, she adds, “I have epilepsy, and alcohol can be a trigger, so…yay me.”
Tilting my head, I look at her again with newfound curiosity. The way she threw it out there so casually. Like we’re talking about the weather instead of a pretty serious neurological disease. I’ve never known anyone with epilepsy. To be honest, I don’t know much about it, in general. Seizures and…sensitivity to light? Yeah. That’s about as deep as my knowledge goes.
“You have epilepsy?” I ask.
With a syrupy sweet smile, she says, “Yup.”
“I had no idea. ”
“Most people don’t.” She shrugs and takes another sip of her Diet Coke. “Usually, it’s not a big deal, but if I decide to drop to the ground and start convulsing, maybe call my brother.”
A surprised laugh slips out of me, and I shake my head, blown away by the girl’s nonchalance over the whole thing. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
She grins back at me. “You’re a peach.”
Looking at Ophelia, I hook my thumb toward her best friend and ask, “Does she always talk this candidly?”
Ophelia leans closer and drops her voice as if we’re discussing conspiracy theories. “You have no idea. Speaking of which,”—she clears her throat and palms her glass, giving Finley a pointed look—“I’m ready for all the reasons why we hate Drew.”
“Only I’m allowed to hate Drew,” Finley defends. “Because on the off-chance I don’t rip his balls off and, instead, decide to marry him, I still need you ladies to be my bridesmaids one day.”
“We’ll be your bridesmaids regardless of who the groom is,” Dylan chimes in. “Now, what happened?”
Digging through her purse, she pulls out her phone, unlocks the screen, then slaps it on the table. “A girl tagged him on Instagram.”
I lean closer to look at the photo. They’re at a bar. Her arms are looped around his neck, and his hand is on her waist as they smile at the camera. It isn’t completely incriminating, but it’s enough to make a person pause, especially a girlfriend who’s across the country from her boyfriend starring in said picture. And if I had to guess? That’s the problem.
Ophelia and Dylan share a grimace and push the phone back to Finley.
“Did you ask him about it?” Dylan questions .
“Yes,” Finley huffs. “He swears they’re only friends, and maybe they are, but…”
“But something feels wrong,” I finish for her.
Swirling the straw in her drink, she nods slowly. “Yeah. And I don’t know if it’s in my head or if it’s real, but when I asked if he wants to take a break, he got pissed at me for even mentioning it, promising he loves me and only me, and he’s been nothing but loyal the entire time we’ve been together, and it would be nice if I could show some trust instead of freaking out over nothing.”
Ophelia gasps. “He said all that?”
“Yup.” She pops the ‘p’ at the end and leans in for another long drink of Diet Coke.
Lia’s lips bunch as she watches her best friend from across the table while I ask, “Do you believe him?”
“I want to believe him. I mean, he’s been busy, but I’ve been busy, too, you know? I’m not stupid. I know a relationship goes both ways.” She hesitates as if she’s replaying her conversation with Drew for the hundredth time. After a minute, her face scrunches. “God, and then he accused me of having feelings for Griffin. Can you believe it? He said if I can post pictures of me and Griff, he should be able to post pictures of him and his”—she lifts her hands and does air quotes—“ friend without feeling like I’ll jump down his throat.” Her eyes go hazy, and she sucks her lips between her teeth. “And then, I’m like…yeah. He’s got a point, you know? I hate when he gets all weird and jealous whenever I talk about me and Griff, but we’ve been friends for forever, so it’s not like I can just…cut him out.”
“Is Drew asking you to cut my brother out of your life?” Dylan demands.
Finley’s expression falls, and she twirls the straw in her glass again, unable to meet Dylan’s gaze, and I swear I can feel the shift in the air. The heaviness of it. The resignation. “Maybe.”
“You can’t do that,” Dylan pushes. “You guys live together, he’s like family?—”
“I know.” Finley sighs, picks her phone up again, and checks the screen. “And I also know I’m done thinking about all of this. Someone take my phone. Actually, someone take all the phones.”
She pushes her cell into the center of the table, and I follow suit, gladly adding it to the pile in hopes of keeping myself from checking to see if he messaged me. Everett. I shouldn’t care. But the radio silence? It’s messing with my head.
With a smile, Ophelia opens her clutch, confirms each phone is on silent, slips them inside, and closes it up. “There.”
“Thank you.” Finley smiles at her friend. “Now…what do you say we dance?”