9 #4
“Obviously, I’ll hookup,” I say, ignoring how wrong it feels to say that.
“But I’ll need to take breaks once in a while.
” I wink, but she purses her mouth to the side.
She’s so damn cute when she’s overthinking things.
It almost makes me wish I didn’t have to leave for college and could spend a little more time with her.
She picks up a few more rocks, sorting them, tossing away the ones that aren’t smooth enough. I offer her some of my better stones, but she only sighs and drops her hands to her sides, causing my stomach to take a weird dive.
“Mitch, I need to tell you something.”
Her tone makes my throat tighten and tugs at my insides. I force myself to swallow so my words don’t come out too squeaky. “Sounds ominous.”
Things haven’t been quite the same between us since that camping trip.
There’s this distance, one I’m worried we’ll ever mend.
I thought we were finding our way back to each other, leaving that night in the quiet, unspoken vault of our friendship, but now I’m worried that’s a pipe dream.
Letting myself see her as more than a friend means things between us will never be the same again.
“It’s about Bill.”
I perk up. “My dad?”
Keeping her eyes down, she nods. “I need you to promise you won’t hate me.” Wet and fearful, her eyes slide up to meet mine. “Please don’t hate me, okay?”
Stunned by the intensity of her gaze, my heart won’t stop hammering. “I could never hate you, Max.”
She shoots me a doubtful glance, then bites her lip and looks away. “I knew.”
My gut reaction screams that I don’t want to take this further, but I ask all the same. “You knew what?”
She sniffles. “About their affair.”
“No, you didn’t,” I say, barely more than a whisper because I’m not over catching my dad and her mom together. It’s all still like a bad dream I haven’t woken up from.
“I did. I’m sorry.”
“How long?”
She shrinks in on herself. “A while.”
“How long is a while?” My voice is hoarse. Deep. Scary.
Tears hang at the edge of her eyes, but when she looks up at me, they spill over and run down her cheeks. Normally, I’d wipe them away with my thumbs. This time, I don’t dare touch her.
As if she’s disgusted with herself, she scrunches up her nose, her lower lip quivering. “Months.”
“Months?” I shout, my voice booming. I rip my eyes away from hers, fisting my hands so tight that my short fingernails cut into my palms.
“Mitch, I’m so sorry. I should have told you sooner, but—”
“You kept that from me, but had no issue trying to have sex with me?”
I pull myself up, chucking the stones into the water.
“What? No, it wasn’t like that. Please, don’t go. Please. You promised you—”
“How could you keep this from me? You, of all people?”
“I wanted to tell you. Trust me, I did.”
“Trust you?” I scoff. “It’s a little late for that.”
“I was afraid.”
I run a hand through my hair, but it doesn’t calm the rage boiling inside me. “I never knew you were such a coward.”
Her expression fades from sadness to hurt. “You don’t understand. I couldn’t—”
“No, Max. You could have. You just chose not to. God, I’ve been so…” Shaking my head, I bite the words back. “You’re not who I thought you were.”
I storm off, stuck between feeling dizzy and wanting to break something.
Max runs up to me and takes my hand, but I jerk it away.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me! I fucking hate you.”
Hunter snaps his fingers in front of my face, hauling me from the bitter memory.
“What’s up with you?” he asks. “Your aura is all off.”
Next to Hunter, Spencer rolls his eyes.
Blinking a few times, I ignore the resurrected anger stewing beneath my skin. “My aura?”
“Something heavy is weighing you down. A decision,” Hunter explains, his gaze narrowed. “No, more than one decision. You’ve got some serious conflict in your soul.”
“Were you hitting the bong before we got here?” I retort, brushing his hand away from my shoulder.
“I never smoke this early in the day,” he says, adding dressing to a large salad. “Is your hip bugging you?”
“The hip’s fine.”
Spencer pops a piece of cheese into his mouth, but his eyes stay fixed on mine and I wonder if I should tell Hunter what I told him.
“I need to talk to you about something. I want to help with the inn. Get it thriving again.”
“Why don’t you sell it?” Spencer asks. “Might be easier.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to be involved,” Hunter adds. “And besides, you’re not living here anymore, so you can’t run it. Maxine is doing a great job at it.”
He has no clue what’s actually happening. “True, but I’d still like to help her out.”
With a frown, he stops mixing the salad and glances up. “Why?”
“Dad’s leaving it to me and Max before he dies.”
Spencer’s gaze volleys between me and Hunter, but Hunter doesn’t flinch. I can’t stand the pity in his eyes.
“This is something I need to do,” I insist.
Hunter crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “But Max won’t ever want to work with you,” Hunter states.
“Which is why I need your help.”
Understanding, he exhales and shakes his head. “I don’t know, Mitch. You know I love you like a brother, but getting between you two? That’d be—”
“Deadly,” Spencer interjects, then sips his water.
“To say the least,” Hunter adds.
“Well, I need to figure something out. I can’t just leave it to her. She’s acting like she’s ready to close it all down.”
“I don’t think she is,” Hunter argues. “She organized that cross-promotion with the brewery, after all.”
“That’s true.” I still don’t get why Maxine would go through the effort of trying to promote the inn, of winning future guests, when she’s telling me it’s a lost cause. Is she telling me not to bother because she doesn’t want me anywhere near it?
“That explains his aura,” Hunter says to Spencer, and they both share a laugh.
Their playful ribbing brings back the familiar ease I’ve always felt around them. Soon, we’re all laughing together, like old times, and even if it’s at my expense, these days I’ll take all the laughter I can get.