Chapter Seventeen #2
“That’s because I was trying to do the not-so-subtle best friend thing and plant the seed in your mind.” She paused, her eyes softening. “Liv, you need to tell your sister.”
I shrugged, though my stomach bottomed out at the thought. Maven was the only one I’d ever told the whole story to other than my parents.
And Maven was the only one who believed me.
I couldn’t handle it if I told my sister and she reacted the same way my parents did.
“I find it hard to believe she hasn’t put the pieces together,” I said softly, chest aching with the truth in that confession.
“But just like Mom, I think she’s afraid to ask me about it.
She knows if I tell her, if I confirm her suspicions, then she’ll have to act on that discovery.
And just like Mom, she doesn’t want to lose access to their little slice of society. ”
Maven’s lips curled. “God, and you wonder why I had such a thorn in my ass about rich people for so long.”
“I never said you were completely wrong,” I pointed out. “Only that the actions of your snooty ex were not indicative of the actions of the hot rookie you were being paid to follow around.” I took a sip of my drink. “And I was right. So, you’re welcome.”
“I’m really sorry you have to deal with this,” Mave said, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “It’s not fair. How can I help?”
I sighed. “Just be there with a bottle of wine on the other side of their nuptials. And maybe save a night for me to curl up on your couch — emotional state to be determined.”
“Consider the date saved.”
“Thanks, bestie. Now,” I said, grabbing her hand in mine. “Let’s get back out there with some chicken nuggets in hand before Ava—”
“Oh, no you don’t.” The cute little brat flipped her hand up over my head and twirled me until I was right back at the table. “I am sorry to hear about your terribly misguided mother, but not sorry enough to let you get out of telling me what’s going on with you and Carter.”
“Nothing is going on between me and Fabio.”
Maven smiled sweetly but picked up the nearest utensil. “Lie to me again, and I will stab you.”
“That is a plastic spoon.”
“They say the dullest knives are the most dangerous.”
I laughed through my nose, but then covered my face with my hands and let out a long sigh. “Fine,” I clipped when my hands dropped. I pointed a finger at her. “But you cannot tell a soul, and you need to keep your reaction in check to what I’m about to tell you.”
“We listen and we don’t judge,” she promised. “Although, now I’m very intrigued.”
“I’m serious about not telling anyone. We signed an NDA.”
Her eyes shot wide as she sipped her wine. “An NDA? Jesus, Liv, what’s going on?”
I chewed my lip. “I’m giving him lessons.”
“In how to fill a cavity?”
“In how to pick up women and please them in the bedroom.”
Maven nearly spit out her wine, and she winced with the effort not to before coughing once she finally swallowed it down. “I’m sorry, I think I just hallucinated. Did you just say—”
“That I’m teaching Carter Fabri to be a sex god in exchange for two-million dollars?” I picked up my cup and tilted it to my lips. “Indeed, I did.”
Maven’s jaw dropped, and she looked around before leaning over the table and whisper-yelling, “What?! Two-million dollars?!”
“We listen and we don’t judge!”
“I’m not judging! I’m foaming at the mouth for details! SPILL.”
Her eyes were wide as I listed out the full scenario. I told her everything, from when Carter first proposed the idea and I’d looked at him like a psychopath, to our most recent lesson.
And because Maven was my best friend and I’d never left her out of my kinky stories before, I told her everything.
By the end of it, she was both fanning herself and getting a refill of wine, like she needed to drink to process it all.
“Liv… this is absolutely bananas.”
“No bananas have been involved. Yet.”
She flattened her lips but couldn’t help but smile. “You kinky bitch. I can’t believe this. And he’s already paid you?”
“One mil paid, one mil to go.”
She frowned. “I understand you saying yes just for the fun of the challenge, but the money… I don’t know that I get that part of it.”
“No?” I waved a hand in the air as if the points were all popping up like a scoreboard next to my head. “No money from my family, drowning in student debt, trying to freeze my eggs and become a single mom on my own terms?”
Recognition illuminated her eyes. “The money you suddenly came into.” She sucked her teeth. “I knew you didn’t have no damn long lost great-great-aunt.”
“Nope. Just an eager puppy dog of a hockey player willing to blow his money on my services.”
Maven softened at that. “I didn’t realize the loans were so bad. You know Vince and I—”
I held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.
I am your best friend, not a charity case.
And I am certainly nowhere near destitute.
I would be fine on my own. I am fine on my own.
This little agreement with Carter just expedites my savings and sets me up in a more comfortable position.
” I sipped my gin. “Don’t worry — I’ll still let you pick up the bill for fancy girls’ trips. ”
She smirked. “So, you’re really doing it, huh? Freezing your eggs?”
I nodded, heart skipping a beat as it settled in. “Soon.”
“I’m so proud of you. I’m… amazed by you, frankly. But…”
“Uh-oh.”
“No, no, it’s just…” She chewed the inside of her cheek, eyes dropping to her hands around her cup before she lifted them to me again. “I know you will be okay at the end of all this. Better than okay, it sounds like. But what about Carter?”
“What about him?” I didn’t mean for it to sound so crude when I shot the words at her. “He’ll be a pussy god drowning in women and still as rich as ever.”
“Does he want to be drowning in pussy? Or does he only want to be drowning in you?”
Fuck.
I didn’t need to hear those words from my best friend, not when I’d been convincing myself it was all going to be fine.
“He understood what he was getting into when we drew up the terms,” I said, my voice softer than I would have liked. “And he’s been enjoying himself. He knows what we are and what we will never be. Trust me — all he wants out of this is knowledge and confidence.”
Maven tilted her head. “And you?”
“Hello, did you black out when we were discussing the bank wires?”
“So, you don’t have any feelings for him after all this?”
The scoff that left me was instinctual. “Maven.”
“Livia.”
“You know me.”
“You’re right, I do.” She stood and rounded the table until she was right in front of me. “Which is why I asked. Because I just saw my best friend doing goo-goo eyes out there, and I have a feeling it wasn’t because you’ve suddenly fallen in love with hockey.”
I clamped my mouth shut, eyes searching hers. When she arched a brow, I sighed.
“I… I’m not in danger of catching real feelings or anything. But yes, I do like him. I… I’ve enjoyed spending time with him. It’s surprised me.”
The corner of her lips lifted. “It’s okay to catch feelings.”
“No, it’s not,” I clipped. “And I’m not. I just like teaching him. I like being in control. I like making him beg. I like testing his boundaries and helping him see his potential. Shall I go on with the things I like, or would you like to keep a somewhat safe for work image of our dear Carter?”
Maven chuckled, and then she was sweeping me into a hug.
“Fine. We can drop it. But just know I’m here if anything changes. And for what it’s worth… I think you two would be great together.”
“We’re certainly great together when sex toys are involved.”
“Oh, my God, Liv.”
We both laughed, but before Maven could drag me back out to the seats, my phone buzzed in my clutch.
When I saw who was calling, all the joy left my body in an instant.
“Damn it, Maven, are you like a smoke signal for my mother? Every time I’m with you, she decides to call.”
“Maybe it’s the universe knowing we’re meant to handle the tough shit together,” she said, nodding toward the phone. “Go on. Answer it.”
I rolled my eyes but did as she said.
“Hello, Mother,” I greeted, holding the phone to my ear. Maven stayed close, her hand on my arm in assurance that she was there.
“Livia,” Mom answered, her voice already laced with that familiar blend of clipped formality and thinly veiled irritation.
“I’m calling because your sister’s wedding is twelve weeks away, and I still don’t have your RSVP.
She’s asked me repeatedly if you’ll be there, and quite frankly, your indecision is inconsiderate. ”
“I’ve told her and you, I’m working on figuring it out—”
“Well, figure faster. This is her wedding, not some last-minute cocktail party you can waltz into when it suits you. Honestly, I think we’d all be better off if you just decided now.” A pause. “Though, between you and me, it might be… less complicated if you stayed away.”
I closed my eyes, jaw tightening. “Is that so?”
A faint, airy laugh — the kind she used when pretending something wasn’t cruel.
“Well, darling, you’ve been so… withdrawn these last few years.
People might not know what to say to you anymore.
And showing up alone, as you so often do…
it’s just bound to make things awkward. You’ve pushed everyone away, and now…
” She let out a sigh. “Now, you’re alone. ”
Alone.
The word echoed between my ears. She knew what she was doing — she always knew.
It was her favorite move, pressing that exact spot she’d left black and blue years ago, as if to remind me she could.
Alone wasn’t just a description when it came from her mouth; it was an accusation, a verdict, a label she’d sewn into the lining of my skin so tight I’d never be able to rip it out.
It was the word she wielded every time she wanted to shrink me back into the girl she thought I should be — compliant, apologetic, small enough to fit inside her perfect little world. It wasn’t about my relationship status. It was about control. About punishment.
And still, my chest tightened like she’d reached right through the phone and put her thumb on the bruise she’d left, pressing down until I could feel the ache in my bones.
My pulse roared in my ears. “I didn’t push my family away,” I said, each word deliberate, clipped. “My family walked out on me when I refused to stay silent about one of your friends raping me.”
The word hung there, jagged and heavy, like a giant boulder suspended over us by nothing more than a thread. The threat of it crushing me was always there. I wondered if my mother felt it, too, or if she was able to easily forget, if having me out of sight had put it all out of mind for her.
For a heartbeat, I thought she might acknowledge it.
And then I heard my father’s voice.
“Darling, who is it? Who’s on the phone?”
My heart cracked open like an egg, all the despair I’d locked away leaking out like a sticky yolk. Maven squeezed where she held me, and I held my eyes open wide so none of the tears I felt stinging my nose would fall.
Mom’s voice breezed back in, cool and unaffected. She ignored my father. She ignored me. “Anyway, let me know by the end of the week so we can finalize the seating chart.”
The line went dead, and so did my hope.
I stared at the phone for a moment, my throat tight, every nerve in my body buzzing. I felt like a little girl again, craving love and understanding and pride from my mother, wishing on a deceased star for my father to act like the superhero he used to emulate when we’d play and save me.
But as usual, I was empty-handed in all of those areas.
Maven reached for me wordlessly, wrapping her arms around me like she could shield me from the sharp pieces of myself my mother always managed to shatter.
But she couldn’t protect me.
The only ones who ever could chose not to.
And so, even in the arms of my best friend, I only heard my mother’s words ringing true.
I was alone.