Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
NOW
There was a drastic difference between my best friend and me. When my alarm rang at six on a Saturday morning, I reluctantly forced myself out of bed. Maeve, on the other hand, had just gotten back from her morning run. “You have to be possessed,” I grumbled begrudgingly, watching her close the front door.
For the first time in my life, I regretted not liking coffee. Still, I forced another sip down my throat. “Ah,” I winced, leaning against our kitchen counter for support. “Battery acid.”
Maeve laughed as if it wasn’t still the middle of the night.
She took a sip from the water bottle previously strapped to her waist and shook her head. “This.” She gestured toward herself. “Is normal. But seeing you up at the crack of dawn, drinking coffee .” She stressed. “Leads me to believe you’re the one not in your right mind.”
I groaned, and it took all the energy I could muster this early in the morning. “I feel dead. Do I look dead?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even look at me. Taking off her running shoes, she asked, “What are you up to?”
My nose twitched at the thought. “ The gym .”
Maeve whipped her head in my direction, scrutinizing me as if I’d just told her I’m going to the moon. “Henry’s profile?” she guessed. Correctly, of course. Then, unnecessarily, she added, “Like that?”
I glanced at my sweatpants and the oversized T-shirt I’d thrown on in desperation ten minutes ago. I couldn’t have found the energy in me to care what I looked like, even if it was my ex-boyfriend I was meeting.
“It’s gym appropriate,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Honey.” Maeve shot me a pretend-pitiful look, her lip twitching in amusement. “You wouldn’t know gym appropriate if it was an eight-wheeler and ran you over.” Maybe not.
“I’m not the one working out,” I clarified. Henry was. And perhaps that prospect got me to take another sip of coffee. I grimaced before I went on to say, “There’s no need to make my outfit a whole… thing.”
But Maeve was not convinced. She was moving now. Toward me, with determination in her eyes I knew all too well.
“Your outfit will always be a thing , Paula. Whether you want it to be or not, it’s the first thing people notice.” I rolled my eyes at the monologue I knew all too well, too. I was lucky enough to hear it every time we went out. “Plus,” she said, standing in front of me. “Now that you’re forced to break the NCA and spend time with Henry, the least you can do is look sexy while doing so. Make him regret it, right?”
Taking my hand in hers, she dragged me back up the stairs. I was too tired to fight her on it, and when she pushed me onto her bed to go through her closet, I was actually kind of glad. I think I might’ve fallen asleep in the ten seconds she left me unattended.
Look , don’t force a tired girl into bed if you’re not willing to live with the consequences.
“Paula!” Her screech would’ve been my cue to open my eyes again. I did not.
I mumbled, only half sure I made any sound at all. “Hm?”
“It’s 6:40, not three in the morning. Get! Up!”
It wasn’t the clothes she hurled at my head that got me to sit up, eyes flying open. It was the fact that, apparently, it was 6:40—and I was supposed to have left ten minutes ago.
“It’s what? ” I asked, so panicked Maeve furrowed her brow. Struggling to climb out of bed for the second time today, I ignored the shorts and shirt she’d thrown my way. “I have to go—”
“It’s 6:35, to be exact.” Which made me exhale so loudly, with so much relief, I wouldn’t be surprised if it woke Riley and Laila down the hall. I could make up those five minutes easily enough. I’d allowed for an extra ten for my walk to the gym anyway.
“And you’re not leaving anywhere without—” She stomped the few steps over, grabbed the clothes she’d picked out for me, and shoved them into my chest. “Putting these on.”
I had no choice but to accept them.
And really, who was I to deny a fashion major her opportunity to dress someone for an occasion? Even if that occasion was… the gym.
I changed the baggy sweatpants for leggings, the oversized T-shirt for a cropped, long-sleeved compression shirt, and Maeve seemed pleased with her work.
Nodding, she said, “It’ll be warm enough for that by the time you get out of the gym.” Like she knew the exact time that would be. “And take this.” When she threw the white T-shirt at me, I actually caught it this time. Was that what coffee did? “For a change of clothes,” she added as an afterthought.
“Again,” I stressed. “I’m not the one working out. Why would I—??” But she was already pushing me out of her room. Halfway down the stairs, when the doorbell rang and I froze in my steps, I needed about one second to guess who it could be.
Maeve had only needed half of one, and rushed past me without so much as a glance for permission.
My heart dropped into the bottom of my stomach when she cheered, “Henry!” And I only managed to throw her T-shirt into my tote bag before catching up.
What was he doing here?
Even from behind, I knew the appraising look currently on my best friend’s face. Her head moved down, then back up until her eyes met Henry’s. She was probably glaring now. “Some things never change, do they?” she asked, referring to his punctuality.
I managed to reach them just in time to see her fake smile fall into a straight line. “Never mind,” she said, shaking her head as if she’d just remembered something. “A lot of things have .”
Henry’s eyes flicked to mine, and I couldn’t do anything but give him an apologetic smile by way of greeting. In Maeve’s direction I mouthed a simple What the fuck?
When I looked back at Henry, the irritation that had laced into his brows, the beginning of a scowl on his face, blew away like dandelions in a summer breeze. He gave a small smile in return, and his eyes drifted to Maeve again.
“Good to see you, too, Maeve,” he said, and it actually sounded sincere. “Heard about that internship you landed. Congrats, really.” Sincerity, again.
Without waiting for a reply, Henry gestured for me to follow him to the Audi parked on our curb, which I didn’t get to without a confused glare from my best friend. She was probably wondering how Henry knew anything about her internship, when all we were supposed to talk about was him.
Which was something I didn’t want to answer now, so I hurried to catch up with the brunette waiting by his black SUV. “ What are you doing here?”
He held the passenger door open, huffed once like I should know the answer. Maybe I already did. “You’ve been late twice now. And you think I’ll believe the interview at seven in the morning is going to be the one you’re on time for?”
I gasped, and I wished he wouldn’t show how well he still knew me every time we spoke. Because I’d been well on my way to being late. Just like he’d predicted. I tried to defend myself anyway. “I was just about to leave!”
“Of course.”
I rolled my eyes in amusement, slipping into the passenger seat. Henry closed the door behind me and leisurely walked to the other side, key swinging on his finger.
I’d avoided looking at him in Maeve’s presence simply to prevent her from seeing how dangerously close I was to falling into old habits again. Now that our front door had closed, I was catching up on what I’d missed on the porch.
My eyes flickered across his loose workout shorts, their color the only thing that differed from those he wore during soccer practice and games. The black of them matched the grey of his short-sleeved shirt, which left little to the imagination in the muscle department. Exposing toned arms and clinging to his body like a second skin. Something in my stomach tightened at the sight.
I made sure to divert my gaze when he got into the driver’s seat.
Henry took a deep breath before turning the key. The engine roared below us a second later. “So Maeve still obviously loves me,” he deadpanned, and I couldn’t help my amused snort.
“You’ve always been great at reading people,” I agreed as we got rolling.
The gym was nothing but a ten-minute drive from my place. Back in the day, when Henry would still stay with me some nights, he got up a little earlier the next morning and jogged there. He’d called it his pre-workout workout .
Still thinking about that second butchered interview—although we did manage some useful stuff in those last ten minutes—I took my opportunity now.
“No pre-workout run today?” I wondered casually, notepad and pen in hand. I decided against recording on a drive as short as this one.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to keep up.” The challenge in his tone underlined his smirk. I glared at him.
“Very funny.” I wanted to smile. I did not.
“Unless anything’s changed?”
“Nope.”
Maybe coffee was a godsend, after all. I couldn’t even remember being tired.
With my newfound energy, I roared on, “Still the passenger princess I’ve always been.” I could tell he wanted to say something else, which was why I cut him off. “ But ,” I stressed. “This isn’t about me, Pressley. I totally see through it now!”
Henry snickered in amusement. “Got me,” he admitted, one hand raising in defeat, the other on the steering wheel. “So it really is all about me today, huh?”
“All about you, baby,” I said in a sing-song voice, nodding grandly and very enthusiastically. To the point where I’d only realized my mistake after it had made it past my lips.
Baby .
Not something you called your ex-boyfriend. Not even in a mocking voice and high on caffeine.
“Sorry,” I blurted. All that earned me was a hearty chuckle from the man beside me, whose eyes I was avoiding vigorously now. “Coffee,” I offered as an explanation.
You know, like when you did something incredibly embarrassing, but all you had to say was “Sorry, third tequila shot” and everyone would understand? That’s what this felt like.
“No!” Henry gasped.
Someone else might’ve described the sound of his laugh as delicious. As all-consuming and warm. Not me, though. Definitely not me. “Paula Castillo,” he went on. “You didn’t drink coffee, did you?”
I couldn’t help the smile—it was just silly enough to be charming again. “You would do that? For me?”
He’d said it as if I’d just sacrificed my firstborn. But remembering the taste, the reaction was justified. “I’m honored. Truly,” he added as he turned into the parking lot of the HBU athletic center. The one literally named after his dad.
“I know,” I played along. “You owe me. Big time.”
Stopping the car, he turned just in time for me to see something shift in his expression. A half smile still hung in the corner of his lips, and he huffed lightly. “I imagine I’ll owe you much more once we get through today.”