2. Competition
2
Competition
WINTER
“Hi, I’m Caleb. Winter’s boyfriend.”
Haze doesn’t make a sound, his eyes jumping back and forth between me and Caleb for a while. His fingers grow tight around mine as he glares at the hand held out to him.
“What the hell?” I reprimand. He has got to be kidding me.
The idiot decides he’s had his fun and bursts out laughing.
“You should’ve seen your face.”
Haze’s shoulders drop with relief.
“You’re a complete idiot, you know that?”
“Come on. You show up holding hands with some mystery guy? I had to.” Caleb opens his arm for me. “Come here, Kingston.”
Haze stiffens up at the nickname. I try to walk into Caleb’s embrace, but Haze doesn’t let go of my hand—quite the opposite actually; he only holds on tighter—which results in me giving Caleb a very awkward half hug with one arm. He embraces me for a few seconds longer, not giving a single thought to my half-assed hug, and pulls away.
“What’s going on?” Haze asks.
“Sorry.” I lean back into Haze’s frame. “Haze, meet Caleb. My… best friend.”
My brain pauses on the words best friend, but my mouth still says them. I shoot Caleb a look of uncertainty . Is that okay? my gaze asks. He nods. It feels so strange calling him that after everything that happened. I’m assuming his presence here means he wants things to go back to the way they were.
“Caleb, meet Haze, my—”
“Her actual boyfriend.” Haze gives him a smug smile.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” I change the topic. What I really meant to say is: I can’t believe you kept the promise we made a million years ago.
“Of course I am. I promised I’d pick you up from the airport, didn’t I?”
Haze clears his throat as if to remind us of his presence.
“So… a boyfriend, huh? How’d that happen?” Caleb’s eyes travel back to Haze.
“School.” Haze feeds him the BS version we tell everyone.
“How long?”
“A while,” Haze answers for me again, which makes Caleb uncomfortable, but something tells me that’s precisely Haze’s intention. He doesn’t like him, that much is clear.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Yeah, I know, sorry.”
Caleb acts scandalized, but deep down, he knows exactly why I didn’t tell him. We weren’t talking. And while I’d love to just pretend like nothing ever happened—the way he clearly intends to—I can’t. I’m guessing we’ll discuss what happened when we’re alone.
“I’m just glad you’re home. I missed you.”
As he pulls me into yet another hug, my hand slips out of Haze’s and Caleb lifts me up, twirling me around. The familiar scent of his cologne tickles my nostrils. He’s still using the one I got him.
Caleb and I used to be neighbors. He was that kid your family arranged for you to play with before you could decide if you even liked each other. Our parents became friends before we did, and so, every Saturday, we’d have lunch at his house. My dad and Caleb’s would go on and on about the stock market for hours while our mothers gossiped. It became a tradition. Caleb moved out of his parents’ house last year, since he’s a bit older than me, but we remained close all throughout the beginning of my senior year. Until I left to finish it in Florida, that is.
Sure, Caleb’s good-looking. He’s half-Filipino, half-Italian, and I’ve known him to knock many girls off their feet with his dark hair, tan, and soccer player body, but I could never see him in that way. I guess the memory of five-year-old Caleb puking his birthday cake all over my dress ruined it for me. If the friend zone was a country, Caleb would be the president.
“Seriously? I leave for two minutes and that’s when you show up?” someone says behind me.
Allie.
Caleb puts me down, and I swivel around, spotting my best friend in the distance.
“Oh my God!” I run into her arms. She squeals, half laughing, half crying, and suddenly, we’re twelve again. I extend my arms out to get a good look at her. She looks stunning—what’s new?—with her long auburn hair and green, golden-flecked eyes. Her sun-kissed skin is covered with the adorable freckles she used to despise; they come back every year along with summer. Allie has always been the one with a fashion sense, while I could easily wear a hoodie and sweatpants to a red-carpet event and wonder why people are staring.
“Al, you’re here, too?”
“What? Did you think I’d let this guy have you all to himself?” She hugs me again.
I met Allison Gardner, Allie for short, during my freshman year of high school. She was the new girl. We both didn’t want to play dodgeball and bonded over our misery in gym class. As Allie and I grew closer, Caleb and Allie did, too. We became this inseparable trio, walking home from school together every single day and hanging out at Caleb’s. He didn’t hang with us at school—he was way too busy doing stupid shit to impress the cool kids—but when the bell rang, he became one of us.
“I’ve missed my girl.” Allie squeezes me one last time, and we break away from each other.
That’s when her eyes land on Haze.
He looks exhausted, wearing a plain white T-shirt and black sweatpants. He didn’t have anything else after the prom disaster. This outfit is all he’d left lying around at Maria’s. Still, his messy brown hair looks as though every tousled strand was meant to look that way. Like his careless look isn’t careless at all, and dang, he looks good. Not to mention his tan sure makes him stand out in the crowd of pale Canadians who haven’t seen the sun in months.
“Holy sweet mother of goodness.”
Here we go.
“Who’s the hottie?” Allie whispers, covering her mouth, and although, I appreciate the effort, we all hear her loud and clear.
“I’m Haze. Nice to meet you,” he chuckles and steps forward, holding out his hand to her. She shakes it clumsily.
“Allison. Nice to watch yo… I mean, meet you.”
I snort. Nice save.
“So, Winter, I didn’t know Florida handed out Calvin Klein models as goodbye gifts.” She fans herself with her right hand, and I laugh.
That’s Allison Gardner for you. She’s always been a bit boy-obsessed. You know that phase most girls go through as kids when we think boys are just yucky monsters who eat their boogers? Well, Allie never had that phase. With a mother who’s been divorced five times, she’s always had trouble with deep feelings, practically seeing someone new every week. She says she has the rest of her life for serious. Not texting back and ghosting guys she’s gone out with is her thing. She says when she finds the one, she’ll know it. But that day hasn’t come yet.
“Allison, meet Haze, my boyfriend. Haze, meet Allison.”
“Excuse me? A boyfriend? Since when? Winter, I’m so happy for you!”
I notice Caleb isn’t paying attention anymore, his eyes glued to his phone.
“Haze, do you have a brother, by any chance?” Allie asks him, and Haze and I exchange sideways glances.
Trust me, Al, you do not want to know his brother.
“Sorry, it’s just me.” Haze shrugs, and my heart aches for him. He’s right. It is just him. The night of the reception at his parents’ house cut all remaining ties between Haze and his family.
“How’d you know I was coming back today?” My gaze drifts to Caleb.
He proceeds to explain that Allie was the one to send him a text saying to get his ass to the airport early this morning. I texted her a week ago, but she said she couldn’t make it. Never once did the thought that she’d come to surprise me cross my mind.
“Hey, my mom told me to tell you you should come over for dinner sometime this week.” Caleb says.
“I’d love that.” I always liked Sophie.
“Then maybe we could go out for drinks, you and I.” He stares at Haze as he speaks, testing the water, checking to see if he’s the possessive type. Haze doesn’t object, but the frown covering his face should be enough answer for him.
“What about me?” Allie pouts. “Can I go out for drinks, too?”
Caleb wrinkles his nose. “Nah, you’re already too thirsty as it is, Al.”
Allie rolls her eyes, and Caleb pulls her into a hug, tousling her hair as she wrestles him.
“What were you guys doing just now? Do you have a ride?” Caleb asks, freeing Allie, who elbows him in the stomach. He eyes my luggage on the floor, probably wondering why Haze doesn’t have any.
“No, actually, we were going to get a cab.”
“What? Nonsense, Winter. I have my car. We thought we were picking you up. We should do something to celebrate your return.”
“A cab is fine,” Haze cuts in, dropping a somewhat awkward pause in the middle of the conversation.
Okay. He really doesn’t like him.
“You think we’re just letting you date Winter without a best-friend interview? I don’t think so. You’ve got some answering to do, mister.” Allie attempts to sooth the tension weighting on us to no avail. I can read how Haze feels about this in his eyes.
No , his gaze says.
Please , mine replies.
Haze sighs. Just like that, I know that I’ve won, but I can also hear his “Goddamn it, you’re lucky I love you” from a mile away.
“Fine. But only if you’re paying,” I say, and my friends laugh.
“Come on.” Caleb leads the way to the exit.
“For crying out loud, it shouldn’t be legal to be that attractive.” Allie’s voice cuts through the deafeningly loud music filling every inch of space in the overcrowded bar. Analyzing the stage planted on the other side of the room, I watch the band create magic and absently tap my fingers on the wooden table. The massive golden sign stuck to the wall above the stage draws my eye. Dolores’s. They renovated the pub. God knows it didn’t use to be this nice.
When my friends said they wanted to celebrate my return, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that we’d end up here. We spent the day driving around town, gave Haze a frankly poor tour after we stopped at my parents’ house to drop my luggage, went out to eat for lunch and here we are, at 10:30 p.m., sitting in an orange leather booth with two empty beer jugs on the table.
Caleb, Allie, and I used to hang out here all the time back when we were sixteen-year-old fetuses. To our defense, we didn’t come here to drink—okay, fine, maybe we did once or twice—we came for the bands, pool tables, jukebox, and their out-of-this-world nachos. I glance up at the handwritten menus on a chalkboard above the bar. They changed it. That’s a shame.
The owner’s a friend of Caleb’s dad, which is how we managed to get in then and how we got in now. To think that in just a few months, I’ll be nineteen—the legal drinking age here—and able to get in everywhere. Surprisingly, I don’t dread my birthday this year. Maybe because I have Haze now. Part of me knows, whatever happens and no matter where we are four months from now, I won’t be spending my birthday alone.
“Earth to Winter?” Allie waves in front of my eyes.
“Mm?” I bring my attention back to her.
“I’m telling you this guy is too good to be true. He’s either cheating, trying to sell you into human trafficking, or gay. I don’t make the rules.” She sticks her hands up.
“Duly noted.” I grin. She doesn’t know that I’ve already seen the worst of the worst. Throw a psycho brother, tragically murdered little sister, and coldhearted parents into the mix and you’ve got yourself a spectacularly damaged guy. But I don’t mind the damage. There’s no disaster, no tragedy, no baggage in the world bad enough to make me run.
Not when it comes to Haze.
My gaze lifts to him. To his tall, broad-shouldered frame leaning against the bar. To his obviously sculpted biceps accentuated by the cut of his shirt. He’s still wearing his stupid sweatpants and white T-shirt, and yet he manages to look like that. He’s waiting for the beer jug we ordered way too long ago, so beautifully unaware of the girls gawking at him it’s almost laughable. The busty blonde bartender has been making eyes at him for fifteen minutes. She should be drooling in her margarita mix anytime now.
“You need to tell me everything and I mean everything. You can’t just show up with a drop-dead boyfriend and not give me an explanation,” Allie slurs, all the drinks she’s had beginning to set in. I’m starting to feel it, too.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. But not here.” I do want to tell her, just not now. Maybe during a sleepover when it’s just the two of us and I know for a fact the boys won’t come back midstory. Caleb left twenty minutes ago to take a phone call. I’d rather not have any of them show up while I’m squealing to Allie about my first time with Haze.
The bartender finally decides to do her job and comes around with our order. She makes “fuck me” eyes at Haze while bending forward to place the beer jug on the counter in front of him. Since she’s rather short, her breast comes flush with the bar, pushing her assets up and giving Haze a plunging view. A raw edge of jealousy burns through my chest.
I mean, come on.
Unbothered, Haze reaches for his wallet. The face she makes when he doesn’t acknowledge her show is priceless. Haze uses his card to pay, and the waitress responds by grabbing his bill right out of the machine, writing something down on it—obviously her number—and sliding it over to him. Haze looks at it, looks up at her, and throws the piece of paper in a nearby trash can as he walks away.
Ouch.
Our eyes meet as he’s trailing back to the table, and he smiles. He has no idea I just saw that.
“Finally, we were growing old here.” Allie claps her hands when Haze braces the jug down on the table. I scoot over and he glides in the booth next to me, stretching before he circles my shoulders with his arm.
“Maybe if the staff actually worked instead of flirting with the customers,” I mutter to myself.
“You saw that?” Haze puts the pieces together.
“All of it.”
“How’d I do?” he teases, and I slouch against his muscular body, my mouth finding his ear.
“Keep being this perfect and I might just have to take you up on that bathroom sex offer.” I refer to the joke he made on the plane. I meant for it to be funny, but as soon as I say it, the tension between us shifts.
A smirk spreads across his face, and his hand drops to my thigh. “Is that so?”
“I said I might. I might need a bit more convincing, Adams.”
“I’ll convince you all right.” My breath hitches in my throat when he leans forward until our lips are almost touching.
“Hey! Still here!” Allie shrieks. I lift my hands to Haze’s chest with a laugh and push him away. “Is this what it’s going to be like with you two? I mean, holy fuck, way to make me feel single.”
“We’ll behave, promise.” I cross my heart.
“Maybe,” Haze adds, and I smile, resting my head on his shoulder.
“So, Haze, let’s get to know you, shall we?” Allie says.
“Sure.” Haze shifts uncomfortably. We all know how much he loves answering personal questions. Allie slaps her serious face on, glaring at him as though she wishes to intimidate him, which only makes me chuckle. He gives her surface answers at best, telling her as little as possible and keeping all the juicy details to himself. Not that I’m surprised. He used to do the same with me.
“Sorry, it took longer than I thought.” Caleb comes up to our booth, his phone in his hand. As soon as he reveals himself to us, Haze stops laughing.
So… safe to say their relationship isn’t off to a great start?
HAZE
Slamming down the empty shot on the table, I watch Allie and Winter gag. I know Winter’s had enough from her tendency to laugh for no reason. My baby’s getting tipsy, but I love seeing her so happy. It’s been a while since she was this carefree.
Allie, Winter’s friend, seems nice, genuinely interested in others—an overall decent friend. I like her so far. But the dipshit who’s been making eyes at Winter since the second I met him? Not so much.
“Remember when you forced me to come to your Tinder date at McDonald’s and crash it?” Winter reminisces.
Allie throws her head back with a laugh. “Wait. What was my excuse again?”
“Are you serious? You don’t remember? You made me get up in panic and say I started my period,” Winter fake-scolds her.
“Poor dude. Was he really that bad?” Caleb asks.
No, but you are.
“Don’t even try, Cale. You’re worse. Remember the time you made me pretend I was your girlfriend to scare away a cougar who was flirting with you at work?”
“Of course I do.”
Yeah, of course you do. Dating Winter Kingston is at the top of your Christmas list, jackass.
“Didn’t even work, by the way. She didn’t stop harassing me. I get it though. We never kissed. She probably just thought you were a friend.”
Oh for fuck’s sake, how can she not see how into her he is? I bet my ass he thought that, when she came back from Florida, he’d get a go at it. Didn’t expect her to show up with me, that’s for sure.
“Thanks to you, Martha the cougar had to be banned from Walmart.” He chugs his beer.
Downing another shot, I watch Winter laugh. Her eyes travel to mine, and she flashes me one of her earth-shattering smiles. I can’t fucking stand this Caleb guy, but I get it. Who wouldn’t fall in love with her?
“Hey, Winter.” Caleb sits up straight. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I fight the urge to bark Fuck no.
“Huh, sure.” She nods, a bit uneasy. I don’t flinch, my arm still tightly wrapped around her shoulder.
“Alone,” Caleb adds.
“Oh, okay.” She turns to me. “I’ll be right back.” She smacks a kiss to my cheek and wiggles out of my hold.
“What’s that about?” I follow them with my eyes until they’re out the front door.
“Don’t know.” Allie shrugs. “I’m sure they’re just catching up.”
I nod as an answer, but part of me wants to go out there and find out for myself. Something felt off at the airport. Winter seemed in disbelief to see him there. Why would she be that surprised that her so-called best friend would keep his promise to pick her up? It doesn’t quite add up.
“So… how’d you all meet?” I ask. Maybe I can find out what Caleb’s deal is. Allie tells me she and Winter met at school. She goes on about their epic friendship for a minute or so, and although I do like hearing about Winter’s life, I grow irritated at the absence of Caleb’s name in the conversation.
“And Caleb? How long have they known each other?” I finally get a word in.
“Oh, man. They go way back. They met before Winter and I did. They were neighbors.”
“They were pretty close, then?”
Allie plays with her now-empty shot glass, her gaze fleeing mine.
“Yeah, they were,” she says with her head hanging low.
“Were?”
“They kind of drifted apart a few months before she left.”
I frown. “Why? Did something happen?”
“No, not that I know of. They just… stopped talking. But people drift apart all the time, you know? I’m just glad they’re talking again.”
Everything about what she just said rubs me the wrong way. Did they get into a fight? Is that why Winter didn’t really know what to call him when she introduced us? I’m about to ask Allie another one of the handful of questions ravaging my mind when Winter turns the corner with Caleb.
“We’re back. Did you miss me?” She sends me a flirty look.
“Terribly.” I scoot over and open my arms for her. She snuggles up to me with a giggle. Caleb seems pissed. What happened back there?
No, what happened back then ?
I have no idea.
But I sure as hell am going to find out.
“I told you. I’m not shrunk,” Winter slurs, tumbling out of the cab before I can even pay the driver. I practically have to throw a fifty at the poor fella and run out of the cab just so I can catch up to her before she falls and breaks a leg. I love this girl, but fuck, she can’t hold her liquor.
After the fifth round of tequila shots Allie and Caleb got to celebrate Winter’s return, I knew my baby was wasted. We ended up splitting a cab as everybody was fucked-up, except for me. I was just starting to get a buzz. I used to spend my nights getting blacked out with the West side. My tolerance is way up there.
“You’re right. You’re not drunk. You’re hammered.” I circle her wrist with my hand, pulling her back to me before she trips.
“A hammer? What do we need a hammer for? Are we building a house?”
I scoff. “Not hammer. Hammered , as in you’re wasted.”
“Wasted? I don’t want to waste anything. I’m earth-friendly.”
I crack a smile but don’t bother answering her nonsense.
“So this is where you grew up?” I help her walk.
She nods.
The streetlamps allow me to assess the regular-sized brick house in front of me. I briefly saw it earlier when we stopped by and Winter ran inside to drop her stuff, but I didn’t really get a good look. A reasonably large driveway, bright red picket fence, a garage. It’s a pretty nice house. Just doesn’t belong to a very nice lady, from what Winter told me.
A faint light can be seen inside, but the driveway’s empty. I assume her folks forgot to turn off the lights before they left. I remember Winter telling me her family is coming back to town tomorrow morning. I guess that means Winter’s mom will have to see me walk into her kitchen. Way to meet your girlfriend’s family for the first time. This can either go decently right or terribly wrong. Winter told me her mother is overly strict and hates having guests over. Never once let Allie spend the night. I already hate the woman, and I’ve never even met her.
We stop at her front door.
“Give me your keys.” I hold out my hand.
“I already did.”
“No, you didn’t?”
“Yes, I did. I gave you the key to my heart.”
I bite back a grin. Wow.
“Man, are you going to hate waking up tomorrow.”
“I won’t. Because you’ll be there.” She gives me a lazy smirk, gets on her tiptoes, and smashes her lips to mine. I can taste the alcohol on her breath. It starts out as a harmless kiss until her wandering hands drop a little too low, and her tongue slips past my teeth. She’s kissing me like she wants us to get down and dirty right here on her porch.
I pull away. “Baby, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but not now.”
“Why not? We’re home alone.” She wiggles her eyebrows and kisses me again, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth and tracing the curves of my chest through my shirt. I always forget how straightforward she gets when she drinks. I groan and slap her hand away from my pants. As much as I’d like to throw her over my shoulder and strip her down in her childhood bedroom, she’s drunk. She needs to get inside, have at least seven glasses of water, and pass out.
“Keys please?” I insist.
Rolling her eyes, she stuffs her hand down her purse and hands me her sunglasses, then her wallet—pretty much everything except what I asked for—until, finally, on try number three, she gets it right. I insert the key into the lock. As I turn it, the door opens by itself. What the fuck? Why isn’t it locked?
“Are you sure your parents aren’t home?”
“A thousand percent,” she slurs.
My mind runs a million miles. This is weird. Either they forgot to lock up or… someone’s inside. We just got to Canada. It hasn’t even been a whole day yet.
No, I can’t believe someone would be psycho enough to follow us all the way back to beaver land. My brother? The West side? So many less than desirable options clash in my brain.
“Stay back,” I tell Winter, instinctively pushing her behind me. I open the door slowly. My fingers seek and find the closest light switch. The lights come on, and Winter jumps back a step.
No fucking way.