Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Three years, two months, three weeks earlier
Edinburgh, Scotland
“What are you doing here?” I half intended for the question to sound confrontational— How the hell did you find out where I live and tele-transport yourself into my kitchen, you psycho? Unfortunately, it comes out breathless, and maybe a little intrigued.
From their perch against the windowsill, Georgia and Alfie study me closely, loath to miss a single beat of this show.
“I know, I know.” Conor puts his hands up, palms open. “I said I’d be arriving tomorrow. But after your text, I couldn’t wait.”
He smiles, lopsided, and I wonder if he’s had plastic surgery. Botox. Face lift. The thing where they suck fat out of your cheeks. Not because his features have changed, but because he looks…young.
Not young young. Not He could sit next to me at a lecture and I wouldn’t bat an eye young. Conor is obviously a man, and the campus reality in which I move is made up of boys. He must be around my brother’s age—thirty-four? Thirty-five? But while I was growing up, Eli and his friends, with their adult problems and adult lifestyles and adult conversations, always seemed ancient to me. Antediluvian. Boring. Now…
Now that I am an adult, too, Conor Harkness just feels like a peer.
And he’s here .
“You couldn’t wait,” I repeat, skeptical.
“I told you.” He scans my face with complete, undiluted attention.
“You told me?”
“Last summer. At the Isle of Harris.” Come on , his gaze communicates. Keep up.
Okay, last summer I did go to the Isle of Harris. But how does he—
“You were there at the same time as we were?” Alfie asks. It was a couples’ vacation: Georgia and Anthony; Rose and Kenna; me and Alfie. Less than a year out, none of the couples have survived. I wonder why.
“Were you there, too?” Conor asks Alfie with an imperceptible, distracted glance at him. “One night, Maya and I met at the bar. I asked her if I could buy her a drink. Remember what you told me?”
I shake my head, dazed.
“That you were in a relationship. And I was devastated. But I asked, if your boyfriend was ever foolish enough to let you go, that you let me know, because I’d come knock at your door. And I’m grateful that you did, love.”
Love.
“You never told me that this happened,” Alfie says, failing not to sound petulant. He’s used to being the hot guy in the room, but I’m struggling to reconcile how juvenile and shrunken he looks compared to Hark. How utterly easy to ignore.
Of course , I didn’t tell him. Because none of this ever happened.
“It was just a, um, text,” I tell Conor. “You didn’t need to come here.”
His chin dips in a self-deprecating gesture that’s so damn charming, it has to be rehearsed. If he didn’t spend his adolescence practicing it in front of a full-body mirror, I will be shaving my head bald and eating my hair strand by strand. “It was my chance. Plus, I was in the area.”
“In Edinburgh?” Georgia asks, sounding on the verge of moaning Awww, how sweet .
“Close. Near Kilkenny.”
In Ireland ? Did he fly in from—
“For work?” Alfie asks, strained. I doubt he is jealous, but he could be envious, or understandably distrustful of an older man hanging around a recently un-teenaged ex. If a friend of mine suddenly revealed a surprise suitor, especially one wearing tailored slacks that look like he was born in them, especially an attractive one who oozes fuck-you levels of generational wealth, I would worry, too. Alfie and Georgia have no clue that Conor is my brother’s closest friend.
And I don’t think I will communicate it to them.
“I was in Ireland for a private matter. My family has an estate there, and my presence was required.”
Georgia’s eyes widen. “Is everything all right?”
“My father is ill.”
She gasps. “I’m so sorry.”
“You should be, as it appears that he’ll pull through. The devil really does look after his own.” Conor’s lips curve upward. He is disgustingly handsome. “One day he’ll buy the farm and the world will become a better place. Lamentably, that is not today.”
Alfie clears his throat. “I’m surprised you visited. It doesn’t sound like you two get along.”
“My father doesn’t get along with people, he buys them. And it wasn’t him that I was visiting, but my stepmother. Wonderful woman.” He walks closer to me, winks , and I choke on my tongue. “I’m going to my hotel now,” he adds. His tone is at once intimate, and loud enough for the others to hear. “But I’ll be around. For however long you’d like me to be.”
Positive thought: maybe the deep crimson of my cheeks will conceal the red rim of my eyes. “Thank you,” I croak.
He bends down to press a cool, dry kiss over my cheek, cupping the back of my head. It’s just his fingertips, and I could easily free myself, but he smells good. Clean. Soap mixed with expensive fabric mixed with a faint trace of fresh sweat, probably from the plane ride. Pleasant.
“Just one more second,” he murmurs against my ear, only for me. “Don’t forget to breathe, Maya.”
The thing is, I know exactly what he’s doing, and it’s idiotic .
But also kind of amazing. Because when he straightens, my eyes skitter to Alfie’s arm, which is wrapped all the way around Georgia’s neck. Georgia’s hip, likewise, is leaning half against Alfie’s crotch.
In the past year, I made it very clear to Alfie that whenever he came over, there would be no PDA in shared areas, to avoid making Georgia uncomfortable in her living space. Clearly, this is a courtesy that they don’t plan on returning.
I follow Conor’s advice and breathe, feeling my anger rise up again. And with it, a touch of recklessness that…
Fuck it. We ball.
“Actually.” I glance up at Conor, surprised by how firm I sound. “There’s no reason for you to leave. Why don’t you just spend the night?”
·····
I sleep in a twin bed.
I hadn’t forgotten, not exactly. I may, however, have neglected to consider its implications when I impulsively invited Conor to stay. I pull him in and close the door behind me, leaning against it. Then I wait for him to turn around and for our gazes to lock.
At which point, we laugh.
Silently. It’s mostly his shoulder, shaking, and me biting into the heel of my hand as I come to terms with whatever the fuck just happened. Until Conor hears something and lifts his finger. It’s Alfie and Georgia, walking past my door to her room.
Conor moves closer, palms above both my shoulders, boxing me in. Eyes never leaving mine, he pushes once, forcefully. The door shakes in the hinges, and I frown, unable to figure out what he’s up to. Until he does it again. And again. And again , building a rhythm that…
Oh my god , I mouth.
My shock makes him smile. When Alfie’s and Georgia’s voices suddenly fall to whispers, his eyebrow lifts. There’s the sound of another door being slammed shut, and with one last, energetic push, the noisiest so far, Conor steps away from me.
I shake my head, baffled by the conniving, amusing, petty plans this man seems to have put in place in the last three hours, and ask in my most conversational tone: “Are you out of your mind?”
He listens for more noises. When he’s satisfied that the others are not eavesdropping, he starts glancing around my room. With him in it, it looks about as big as the eye of a needle. “Probably. But that’s unrelated to my presence here.”
“I cannot believe you came. I haven’t seen you in…” In?
“Yeah, I tried to figure it out on the plane.” Conor Harkness is here. Inspecting the desk where I fall asleep when I play Final Fantasy for too long. Running a finger pad down the cracked spine of my old astrochemistry textbook. “I think Eli invited me to your high school graduation.”
“Oh. Did you go?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
He gives me a straight look. “I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than go to the graduation of some teenager I barely know.”
Laughter, real laughter, pours out of me for the first time in days. It’s snorted out and phlegmy, probably disgusting, but Conor seems charmed, even as his eyes roam my desk and stumble on the !BIRTH CONTROL! Post-it that I put up to avoid forgetting my pills.
He nods to himself, faintly discomposed.
“Told you. Not thirteen.”
“Still not sure about that.”
“I’m an adult. I go to school in a different country. I have a credit card. I own sex toys.” I impulsively open my bedside drawer and show him my stash, only slightly regretting it when I remember the giant dragon dildo Rose gave me as a birthday present.
Conor takes it in. Blinks, several times. “Not thirteen,” he acquiesces with a nod, moving to study the hoard of stationery items that live on my desk.
“Is this creepy?” I ask. “That you’re here, I mean.” It doesn’t feel like it, but…should it?
“The fact that I’m in your room? A little, yeah. In my defense, though, that was your call. Not part of my plan.”
“What was your plan?”
“Mostly, deferring to you.”
“Really? Because you kinda took charge with the whole fake-relationship thing.”
He winces. “Yeah. That was…impulsive. And pure fucking spite.” I tilt my head, and he continues, “Those two were Velcroed together from the second I got here. They had no idea where you were, or why you were out this late. They were not worried that you weren’t answering your phone. And then I saw your face when you came in, and…” His expression is fascinating. A mix of tightly leashed control, utter chaos, and thirst for vengeance. “You know, I may have anger issues, too.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “You don’t say.”
“But now that your friends—and I use the term loosely—think that there is someone else in your life, you have options.”
“Such as?”
“If you need a break from them, you could spend the next few nights at my hotel. I’m leaving tomorrow morning, so the room would be all yours. But they won’t know that.”
I nod. Honestly, it’s not the worst idea.
“Why did you move to Scotland for college, anyway?” he asks, studying the Texas Longhorns postcard on my wall. He seems more interested in looking at the room decor than at me.
“Same reason you moved to the US, probably.”
“You were a rower and got recruited by an Ivy?”
I laugh. I didn’t know that about him, but…I can see it. I totally can. Wide back. Defined arms. Strong legs. “No. To escape my annoying family.”
“Ah.” He nods, then stares at my bed for a suspicious length of time. So long, I tense. Maybe I shouldn’t have shown a virtual stranger my sex toys.
“Fair warning,” I say coldly, “I never put out the first time someone flies in from another country to save me from my terrible life choices.”
He blinks, confused.
“The way you were ogling my bed, I figured that maybe you were…wondering.”
He scoffs. “I was wondering. But only whether the second part of your bed pulls out.”
“The what?”
“You really sleep there? Every night?”
“Yeah.” I frown. “Why are you looking at it like that?”
“Just admiring its unique…narrowness.” He glances up. “One would figure that not having a headboard would buy you some room, and yet.”
“Now listen, Mr. Billionaire.”
“ Not a billionaire. Not even on the best trading day. Not even close.”
“Aww. I like that.”
“That I have less money than you think?”
“No, that you took the word billionaire as the insult it was meant to be.”
He sighs, failing to conceal a smile. Points at a section on the wall that’s free of furniture, a couple of feet from my bed. “Okay if I take that spot?”
“For what?”
“To spend the night.” He must interpret my befuddlement as a yes, because he drops to the floor and sits against the wall. His long, muscular legs stretch in front of him, crossed at the ankle. “I’ll stay a couple of hours. Then noisily sneak out. You have a Ring camera, right?”
“Yeah?”
He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, as if preparing to sleep. It’s hard to look away from him. There is something about the prominence and position of his cheekbones, the sculpted line of his neck, the way it curves into broad shoulders, that makes me want to measure. Analyze. Understand . “I’ll make sure to look disheveled, then.”
An incredulous sound bubbles out of me. I take a seat on the edge of my mattress, burying my fingers in the coverlets. “You couldn’t be bothered to come to my high school graduation, and now you’re here .”
He opens one eye. “You didn’t need me at your graduation.”
“That’s not what I meant, I…Why did you come, Conor?”
The second eye opens, too. After a too-long pause, he says, “Because I’ve been there.”
I frown. “Where?”
“Staying friends with an ex. Watching them move on too quickly. My ex was classy about it, the transition was smooth, but it still sucked. Yours isn’t bothering with any of that, so I figured you might want external support.”
He’s talking about Minami, I think. And in hindsight, looking at him with fresh eyes…Yeah. He probably could have pulled her. Just a little bit. I wish I knew more about that whole thing. For the first time in my life, I wish I’d paid better attention to my brother’s friends’ drama digest.
“You know,” I say, dumbfounded, lying down on the bed still fully dressed. “This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I meant to convey gratitude. His snort, though, is dismissive. “It’s not.”
I scowl. “Maybe it is. You don’t know that.”
“Maya, your brother changed the trajectory of his life to take care of you.”
“Good point.” Being reminded of it makes my insides twist. “Still, sometimes I wonder if he hates me.”
A long, measuring stare. “Every choice Eli has made in the last decade was with your well-being in mind.”
“That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hate me.”
“He had to rebuild his life for you, and I’m certain that comes with a healthy dose of resentment. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you more than anything in the world.”
He’s so matter-of-fact, I wish I felt a tenth as calm as he does about my relationship with my brother. “I should call him more often. When I was home for the summer, I actually had fun hanging out with him. I just…Sometimes I’m embarrassed by how badly I used to act out.”
He angles his head toward me, amused. “You were a genius-level-IQ girl who lost her parents suddenly and traumatically. Believe me, he doesn’t blame you for any of it.”
“How do you even know about my IQ?”
“You’re finishing a physics degree with honors at twenty and have been accepted to half a million graduate programs with full funding. I inferred.”
“Okay, well, you also knew about the Isle of Harris vacation. Did you infer that?”
“Sadly, that does enter creepy territory.”
“You stalked my Instagram, didn’t you?”
He glares. “I am an adult man.”
I let out a breathy giggle, but he taps at his phone and hands it over, showing me a thread of texts between Eli, Sul, Minami, and Conor. The four founding members of Harkness.
“I didn’t know people your age had group chats.”
“Do fuck off, Maya.”
I smile at his mild tone. It’s clear that he searched the chat for the word Maya and found dozens of texts from Eli about me. Not personal stuff that I’d be embarrassed to realize he shared, but big-picture news about my life. Mostly, what I tell him when he messages me every few months, asking whether everything’s going okay at school. The paper I worked on as a research assistant and how it got published with me in the author lineup. My internship. Vacation photos I sent as proof of life.
She’s fantastic , he wrote in one text. I really think she’ll be one of the best physicists of her generation. Headed for great things .
“He clearly…keeps track of stuff,” I say, a little choked.
“He’s proud of you. More than of anything he’s achieved on his own, I’d hazard.”
I keep scrolling. Minami is usually the only one who replies to texts about me, which doesn’t surprise me, since I assume that these updates may be mostly for her. She was always there for me during my teenage years, and more than once talked me down from being even wilder and bitchier than I was. The only reason I haven’t kept in touch with her in the last few years is that…well. She was Eli’s friend, not mine. And I wasn’t sure if…
I’m going to email her. The very second this mess is over.
“Let me guess.” I swallow. “You roll your eyes whenever I’m mentioned.”
“I do not.”
“Really?”
“I’m very good at skim reading.”
I laugh. And laugh. And laugh . And then ask, voice smaller: “Is Eli really proud of me?”
“Very.”
I may be about to cry again, today, but for new and exciting reasons. “Maybe I should invite him to my college graduation.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. I just didn’t think he would…” I scratch my neck. Am I an idiot? Probably. “Could you please not tell Eli?”
“That you’re considering inviting him to your graduation?”
“No. That I’m in trouble.”
He huffs. “You’re not in trouble, Maya. You are trouble.”
The word makes me smile. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Three brothers. Why?”
“Older?”
“All younger.”
“Is that why you don’t get along with your dad? Did he unload all his hopes and dreams onto you because you’re the eldest?”
“Finneas Harkness doesn’t do hopes or dreams.”
“What does he do?”
“Coercion and manipulation.”
It strikes me, all of sudden, that Conor’s last couple of days must have been as crappy as mine. That maybe I could do something nice for him, too. “Tomorrow, before you leave Scotland, can I buy you breakfast?”
His eyebrow lifts.
I bite back a smile. “I have a job. I wouldn’t be buying you breakfast with my brother’s money, which comes from a pot that’s so suspiciously similar to yours, you would basically be paying for your own meal.”
“There’s no need.” He squares his shoulders, searching for a more comfortable position. A bubble of doubt floats upward, that maybe he just doesn’t want to hang out with me more than is strictly necessary.
Except, he just showed up at my doorstep to help me feel less like a loser. Faced with such evidence that he does care, it’s hard to feel insecure. “I know there’s no need. I still want to thank you for coming to make sure I’m all right.”
“I did it for Eli. Can’t let my best worker slack off because of a family emergency.”
“Uh-huh, sure. I know a good place. What’s your cell number? Your call was ‘Unknown.’?”
“My number? That’s a big ask, Maya.”
“I won’t abuse it. Won’t send unsolicited nudes.”
“You really aren’t thirteen anymore, are you?”
“Nope. I’m an adult who has had sex in pretty much every position under the sun.” This might be untrue. I honestly have no idea. “Would you like to know more? I’m over it now, but I had a pretty intense drug phase. Mostly soft, but I tried some hard ones. MDMA, coke—”
“ Christ .” He rubs a hand down his face. “Okay, this I’m telling Eli.”
“Go ahead. Like I said, I got over it.”
“How?”
“I’ve had such bad trips. One time I kept thinking there were magnets under my skin and little pieces of metal were flying at me. And then my brain zapped for a month.” I shudder. “Listen, you did a nice thing for your friend’s sister when her boyfriend dumped her for a sweeter and prettier girl. I want to reward this good behavior by taking you to Loudons.”
He sighs deeply and says nothing. I yawn, because it’s 1:00 a.m. Way past my bedtime. I might take a nap until—
“She’s not,” Conor says.
“Mmm?” Another yawn.
“Prettier.”
“Who?”
“Georgie. Or whatever the hell her name is.”
“Aww, you’re sweet.”
“And you need a mirror.”
My heart skips. “Maybe you like brunettes.”
“I don’t.”
“You like blondes?”
“I don’t like anyone . I do, however, own a pair of working eyes.”
“This is very nice, but I don’t need you to lie to me—”
“It’s not a lie. I have no horse in this race. I talked with her for a few minutes, and she seems like a nice girl. If I wasn’t certain that she’s been fucking your boyfriend behind your back for weeks, I would have no negative feelings toward her.”
“You think so? That…Do you think they got together before Alfie and I broke up?”
He shoots me a Come, now look. “Maya.”
“Yeah. I mean…Yeah.” I rub my eyes. “I just keep wondering if Rose knew.”
“Rose?”
“My best friend. Her cousin. She’s the one who introduced Georgia and me. And then two years ago, when Georgia’s roommate graduated, I moved in this apartment, and…When I found out about her and Alfie, and it all went down, Rose told me that she had no idea—”
“She knew,” Hark says.
“How can you tell?”
“What your roommate and your ex did is so abominable and devoid of decency, if your friend had found out with you, she would have helped you sharpen every knife in the kitchen.”
I laugh. And tear up a little. And yawn. “I just…I kinda thought maybe Alfie was the one?”
“Based on what?”
“He…He’s funny, especially when he’s drunk. And he left me space—I need a lot of space, sometimes. And he held me when I wanted to be snuggled.”
“All of these things you listed, a dog could do.” A brief hesitation. Then he continues. “He may have been one of the ones, but he wasn’t the one. You’re young, and more beautiful than you yet realize, and you’ll be the smartest person in most of the rooms you’ll enter throughout your life. You’re better off without some guy who just asked me for pointers on how to break into the crypto space.”
“Ugh. He’s so obsessed with that.” I bury my face in the pillow. “I shouldn’t have let his cuteness blind me.”
“Cuteness? He looks like he was drawn by my right hand.”
I laugh into the memory foam, the taste of damp linens in my mouth. And just as I’m about to ask Conor whether he’s a lefty, I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.