Chapter 7 #2
I hate that she isn’t wrong, because I’ve been noticing Maxinne—and far more than I should be.
This is a problem because she’s only been here for a few days, and I’ve had to remind myself several times that she’s freshly out of a broken engagement and is only here for the summer.
There are about a hundred different reasons why I shouldn’t be thinking about her, and yet I keep noticing her anyway.
“See?” Wren says, pointing at me.
I furrow my brows. “See what?”
“You got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The one where you disappear into your own head because you’re trying very hard not to admit something.”
I let out a long sigh. “You’re exhausting.”
“That’s not a denial.” She points at me with an accusing finger. “Even though you want to hide behind this emotionless disguise you’ve created when you’re around women, I know deep down you’re still capable of feelings. I saw it just now!”
“Wren—”
“No,” she snaps. “I want to see you finally move on with your life and find that special someone. It doesn’t have to be Maxinne, but there has to be someone out there good enough for you to try again. You deserve to be happy.”
Her voice softens, and her teasing falls away. She’s addressing the fact that I’ve spent years convincing myself that being alone is easier, but I’m not sure that I’m ready to do things the hard way. Not right now, anyway.
“I hear you.”
“Good, I’ll drop this…for now.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” she shouts, tossing a marshmallow at me.
“Hey—” I start to say, but she tosses another marshmallow, and it bounces against my forehead.
I bend over and pick up a handful for myself, and then, somehow, we launch ourselves into an all-out marshmallow war.
I send one that pops her in the nose right as hers hits me in the shoulder—that’s still throbbing from her slap, might I add.
Sven starts jumping up and down in attempts at catching the flying treats.
“What’s going on here?”
Wren and I freeze mid-throw and turn toward the voice. Maxinne touches her lips, keeping a smile at bay, her eyes snapping between the two of us. Her long dark hair hangs past her shoulders, still wet from a shower, and she’s wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms with a loose fitted shirt.
My eyes take in her face, completely bare of any makeup, right as Wren tosses a marshmallow at my head. It smacks me against my cheek, and I frown in disapproval as Wren snorts. Maxinne lets her laugh escape, and it’s hard to be upset when we’re rewarded with the beautiful sound.
“Are there any marshmallows left for s’mores?” Maxinne asks, taking a seat.
“Yeah, I brought two bags.” Wren holds up a bag.
“I’m Wren, by the way.” She gives Maxinne a little wave.
“Hi, I’m—"
“Maxinne. I already know,” Wren interrupts and tosses a thumb my way. “This one hasn’t shut up about you since you arrived into town.”
Heat crawls up my neck. All that talk about Wren being a good friend and she goes and embarrasses me the second she can. What a traitor.
Maxinne smiles, and bless her, she changes the subject as her eyes look down at the small wooden table in front of her and sees the assortment of s’mores choices.
“Wow, you really go all out for s’mores.”
“It’s the only way to get the best s’mores experience. Have you ever tried one with a Reese’s cup?” When Maxinne shakes her head, Wren inhales as if the statement insulted her. “Girl, I’m about to change your life.”
As Wren rummages for her ingredients, my gaze drifts back to Maxinne.
She seems lighter now. The redness in her eyes has faded, her shoulders aren’t as tense, and she’s smiling up at the sky as she takes in the stars.
The glow from the fire flickers across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheeks and the warmth in her brown eyes.
She’s beautiful in a way that seems to sneak up on me, and now that I’ve noticed, it’s impossible to ignore.
Wren breaks the silence. “I swear there’s something about sitting around a campfire that makes people either want to share their deepest secrets or tell a scary ghost story.”
Maxinne laughs under her breath. “Do you have a deep secret to share?”
“That depends. Are you going to share too?” Wren asks.
Maxinne glances up. “Maybe, but you have to go first.”
Wren gasps dramatically. “Me? Fine.”
She pulls her knees to her chest and stares into the fire dramatically.
“When I was a kid, my little sister and I accidentally broke one of my mom’s favorite records. I’m talking about a one-of-a-kind that was her prized possession.”
I glance toward Wren. “I know this story.”
“You know the edited version.”
“Uh-oh.” I shake my head. It’s untelling what Wren’s about to share with us.
“Olivia cried so hard that I convinced her the only logical solution was to bury the evidence. We dug a hole behind the shed and held an actual funeral for the record.”
I bark out a laugh as Wren keeps going.
“We said a few words, and I may have hummed ’Amazing Grace.’ And then I blamed the entire thing on our brother.”
Maxinne covers her mouth to suppress a laugh. “Did he get in trouble?”
“He was grounded for two weeks.”
I scoff. “You’re terrible.”
“I know.” Wren grins. “And don’t you dare tell my mother!”
The three of us laugh until the sound fades into the crackling fire. Maxinne looks over at me. “What about you?”
I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
“Come on,” she says. “One secret.”
“Not happening.”
“Zane would rather wrestle a bear than talk about his feelings,” Wren says, pointing her roasting stick at me.
“It’s hard to talk about the people who’ve shattered our hearts,” I say without thinking and press my hand over my mouth before anything else can be said.
Maxinne’s brows knit together as she studies me for a beat too long. Her gaze falls back toward the fire, and with it, her smile.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Wren says, blowing out her flaming marshmallow before sandwiching it between a Reese’s Cup and two graham crackers.
“Yeah. Actions always prove why words mean nothing.” Maxinne’s voice carries a sharp edge to it.
“It sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Wren says before licking marshmallow from her fingers.
Maxinne shrugs, but the silence that follows says more than anything she could’ve admitted.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Wren reaches over and squeezes Maxinne’s hand. “You’re in good company here.”
It’s subtle, but I see the way Maxinne’s shoulders loosen, as if she needed someone to give her permission to vent.
And then her words come, a bit hesitant at first, then spilling out.
She tells us about the gala, about Derek ending their engagement after three years together, and how that night sent her tumbling here to Covewood.
“I’m sorry you went through all that.” Wren hands Maxinne a roasting stick then nudges her chin toward the chocolate spread in front of her. “You deserve one of these.”
“Thanks.” Maxinne’s voice is small, fragile even. “For letting me vent a little. It’s been a lot to carry on my own, especially after I checked his social media, and I saw that he’s telling everyone I cheated and left him. Like he didn’t suggest we break up and kicked me out.”
“Are you kidding me?” Wren nearly shouts.