Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
MAEVE
Ican’t be the only person who packs nearly my entire underwear drawer for a trip, no matter how short it is. What if I accidentally lose a pair? What if my period suddenly decides to become irregular and start when it normally doesn’t? I need options.
Granny panties, thongs, seamless, you name it.
Sighing, I throw as many panties that will fit in the remainder of my suitcase as I can and call it a day.
The last thing I want is for Tate to show up while I’m sifting through my underwear drawer.
Zipping up my suitcase, I pull it next to the two other bags I have packed that are waiting by my door.
Is three too many?
I’m biting the tip of my thumb in the midst of second-guessing myself when a soft knock sounds at my door.
Brushing my hair behind my ears and rubbing my palms against my corduroy pants, I tentatively walk over to pull the door open, seeing Tate standing on the other side.
I’m taken aback by the backward baseball cap on his head, but only because I can see a few of his brown waves peeking out underneath, framing his glasses.
He dons dark jeans and an oversized sweater, and for a moment, something deep in my stomach does a tiny flip.
“Tatum,” I greet, leaving the door open for him as I turn toward my bags. “I swear, I didn’t pack my whole dorm.”
He smiles sheepishly at me. “I w-wouldn’t have minded if you did.”
I’m so predisposed to expect someone to get angry with me that his words leave me blinking up at him in surprise. He just stands there, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he lifts his head from my suitcases back to me, completely nonchalant about the entire thing.
Staring. You’re staring.
“How did finals go?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest as I tone down my gawking. “Wait, don’t tell me. I forgot that you’re Mr. Photographic Memory.”
He laughs so softly that there’s barely any sound to it. “How did yours go?”
“Good, I think.”
“Good,” he repeats.
Words are on the tip of my tongue, but they fizzle as his dark eyes stay on me for a second longer than normal. They flick away normally, but this time, they linger just long enough for me to notice.
“Well, aren’t we nice and cozy in here?”
That voice.
A voice I know all too well, making every muscle in my body tighten as the blood pumping hot in my veins freezes over.
I’m rigid as I weakly turn my head to see Landon standing in the doorway, his blue eyes practically burning a hole straight through me.
Dread balls heavy in my stomach as I stare at him, my breathing shuddering as I try to take a steadying inhale, but I fail.
The hair on my neck pricks as my heart pounds in my ears.
I can’t speak. I can hardly breathe.
It’s like my lungs are rejecting the oxygen I’m trying so hard to breathe in.
“You move fast, Evie,” Landon tsks. “I’ll give you that.”
That makes anger flare slightly amidst the chaos happening in my body right now.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to rasp.
He takes a step toward Tate and me, and my eyes immediately divert to his chest instead of the intense gaze he has on me. Submitting to him once again, like it’s muscle memory. His energy is paralyzing, so much so that I even take a small step back as he gets closer.
“Came to see what your plans were for break.”
Bastard.
Him reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear makes me recoil slightly, and that only further fuels my anger.
It’s irritating enough that he’s acting this way in front of Tatum, like he’s marking his territory or staking his claim on me, but to try to touch me?
As if he has any right to ever come near me again?
“That’s none of your business anymore,” I tell him.
Landon scoffs, combing his blond hair back swiftly with his fingers. “Oh? So, what? Are you spending it with this guy?”
My gaze nervously flicks over to Tatum, who I’m surprised to see is looking directly at me, his dark eyes not blinking, unwavering, just staring at me like he’s scared that if he moves them, something will happen.
“It’s none of your business,” I repeat, firmer this time. He can’t treat me like this, not anymore. He’s expecting me to falter like I always have, and as much as I still want to, I refuse. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing me cower; he never did.
“You’re always my business.”
This is humiliating. Humiliating that I ever let him treat me this way, humiliating that Tatum has to bear witness to it now, humiliating that it has to be so blatantly obvious what is going on here. This is the last thing I want anyone to have to see, let alone deal with.
My brain is working so hard to come up with a comeback to show him that he’s not in charge anymore, not of me, but I’m blanking.
My lips part, but nothing comes out. I’m trying so hard to break free from these invisible chains he’s always had around me, and I thought that my progress over the last few months had been good, but now—when it actually counts—I can’t even stand up for myself the way I want.
But like a saving grace, Tatum physically steps in between Landon and me as he reaches for one of my suitcases. “We should probably, uh, hit the road.”
Tate isn’t the type of person to be confrontational, that much I know, but this is his way of trying to help me out, and a warmth spreads in my chest because of it.
“Yeah,” I agree, “it’s time for you to go, Landon.”
He glances between Tatum and me, a sly smirk dancing on his lips, flittering on the edge of anger. I know that look all too well. He’s keeping up the mask, but his blood is boiling.
“No problem,” Landon says coolly. “I’ll catch you when you come back.”
To any normal person, those words wouldn’t mean anything malicious, but I’m not normal.
I’m far from normal. I’m on the opposite end of normal because he made me this way.
I know that his words have meaning behind them.
I’ll catch you. Like he still has a power over me, like I’ll cower to him like I always have.
My shoulders sag as soon as Landon is gone, my face falling into my palms as I suck in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. That was my…ex. For obvious reasons.”
“You, uh… Are you okay?”
I look up at him, and for the first time, he doesn’t immediately avoid my stare.
Instead, his dark eyes frown down at me through his glasses, his lashes fluttering faintly—like he’s trying really hard not to look away from me, even though he’s uncomfortable with eye contact for this long. Like he needs to know that I’m okay.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I finally croak.
He just nods, not dwelling on it even a second longer, which I am thankful for. Tatum never dwells, never hovers, never pushes, and I offer him the same. It’s like we have this silent acknowledgment between the two of us.
On the way out of my dorm, I’m rolling one suitcase while he grabs the other two, leading me downstairs into the main lobby toward the entrance of the co-ed building.
Snow falls lightly outside, the first bits of the snowstorm that’s due in the next twenty-four hours coating everything in a blanket of white.
A smile creeps onto my face as I follow Tate outside, reveling in the way it crunches beneath my boots and clings to my hair that sticks out from under my beanie.
I’ve always loved the snow; we never really get it in San Diego, not like this.
He guides me to a dark blue, older Chevy truck with large tires and a covered truck bed that he opens to put my stuff inside next to his.
I don’t know much about trucks, but I can tell that he takes care of this one because of the way it practically looks brand new.
Through the windows, I can see the tan leather seats inside that look like they’d never even been sat on before.
“Okay,” I start as Tate throws the last bag into the truck bed, “I have the trip all planned out. We’ll stop in Indianapolis tonight, weather permitting.”
“Okay,” he agrees, walking around me as he opens up the passenger side door and steps to the side so I can climb in.
I have to take his outstretched hand to step up into the cab because it’s too tall, and as my hand rests in his, my heart jolts in my chest at the sudden realization that his hands are much larger than my own. Large and very warm and—
Don’t do that.
You can’t think about his large, warm hands and where you’d like them to be.
“I’ll be your GPS,” I say as I sit down in the leather seat. “I promise I won’t suck.”
The tiny dimples in his cheeks deepen as a soft smile crosses his face before he’s closing me in the warm cab and walking around to climb into the driver’s seat.
As my eyes follow him, I get distracted by the tray of coffees sitting in the middle between our seats, and an excited gasp fumbles from my lips just as he’s getting inside.
“Coffee?” I ask.
He nods tentatively as he pulls one of them from the tray and hands it over to me. I’m even more stunned to find that it’s my exact coffee order, right down to the shots of espresso.
“You know my coffee order?”
“You, uh, you always have the s-same order every time I see you,” he explains, his cheeks turning pink. “I r-read the label once. That’s how I…know.”
Someone paying attention to me is new territory; I don’t think anyone ever has, not outside of my family.
But even then, they never noticed the tiny things.
Something as small as a coffee order. Except it wasn’t just the coffee order, was it?
He also made me those flashcards to study with, and that was only from a glimpse at my notebook and textbooks.
He’s gone out of his way twice now for me, and for the life of me… I can’t fathom why.
But it brings a lightness to my chest that I haven’t felt in a really long time.