Rebounding (15 page)

“Did you happen to notice that the freezer is now stockpiled with Häagen-Dazs?” I ask, plopping back down on the sofa.

“Wonder who did that,” she replies casually while pretending to read the back of a DVD.

“Uh-huh.” I set her juice down on the coffee table to crack open my can of coke. “Since we now have enough to last us a decade, I’ll go ahead and share with you.”

She grins. “How charitable—ooh, have you seen
Game of Thrones
? I watched the first two episodes with one of my sorority sisters. It was really good.”

“Haven’t seen it yet.”

“But you have every season…do these belong to Trevor too?”

“No, they’re mine. I’m just waiting for the author to finish the last book before watching the series.”

She looks up at me curiously. “Why?”

“The guy’s ancient. I don’t wanna start watching just to find out he died before finishing.”

She shakes her head. “That
would
be awful, but not a good enough reason for waiting.”

The front door bursts open, then slams shut a moment later. Stephanie walks straight past us, marching off in the direction of Trevor’s room. I catch a glimpse of her tear-streaked face just before she passes by me. Trevor trails in behind her, his mouth set in a grim line. “Don’t ask,” he says, following Steph into his bedroom.

As soon as the door closes, the yelling begins. Their voices are muted, but loud enough to be heard all the way out here.

Wonderful.

The two of them rarely fight, but when they do, all hell breaks loose.

Charlotte is staring in the direction of their bedroom, a troubled look on her face. “Think they’ll be all right?”

“Yeah, it’s just a fight.”

The shouting gets louder, and she winces. “Sounds pretty bad.”

“Didn’t you ever fight with your ex?” I immediately regret the question, but it’s too late to take it back.

She shakes her head. “Never. I mean, little arguments here and there. But we didn’t scream at each other like that.”

“They’ll be fine,” I assure her. “There’s a thin line between love and hate, right?”

“I guess so.”

It’s clear the whole thing is making her uncomfortable. Knowing Trev and Steph, it’s not going to ease up any time soon either. When they fight, they can go on for
hours
.

“Hey, how about we play
Mario Kart
in my room?” I suggest. “That way we don’t have to hear all the screaming.”

“Your room?” Uncertainty flickers in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, kid. I remember the deal we made. I’m not allowed to start anything without finishing. So if I can’t help myself and happen to kiss you, that means I have to—”

“There’s no need to reiterate the point, Archer.” Her cheeks are now a deep shade of pink. Watching her reaction is really funny.
She’s
the one who came up with the terms, after all.

“Stop grinning,” she snaps. “Let’s go play
Mario Kart
so I can kick your ass.”

TWENTY             

Char

Everything in Max’s room is dark. The walls are dark blue, the curtains black, the comforter is another deep shade of blue. It’s not a depressing kind of dark, just very tranquil I suppose. I like his room. The furniture is plush and stylish, and when I sit on the edge of his bed, it feels like I’ve landed on a cloud.

I can’t believe I’m in here though.

After last night, I never thought this would happen, that I’d be sitting on Max’s bed. And yet here I am. How the heck he finagled his way back into my good graces (especially after swearing I’d
never
forgive him) is beyond me. I wasn’t lying when I told him he made me feel cheap. Because he did. However, I may have exaggerated the part when I told him all I wanted was a rebound. I feel a little bad about that, but there’s no way I’d admit to having feelings for the guy when he made it pretty clear he doesn’t have any for me.

Max tosses me a controller and flips on the TV. “What’s it gonna be, kid? Yoshi or the lame-o princess?”

“I’m nobody’s sidekick. I want Mario.”

He spares me a quick glance. “Interesting. Tell me, is that what you used to say to your sorority minions?”

I shrug, unfazed by his judgmental tone. “Somebody’s gotta be on top. In order to get there, you have to be the best.”

He chooses the character Bowser. “You’re going to eat my other employees alive aren’t you?”

“If that’s what it takes…” I look over at him, noticing how seriously he’s taking me. “I’m kidding, Max. I worked really hard for my presidency, and even after I was elected, it still felt surreal—choose your vehicle.”

Max chooses the motorcycle, and I select the race car. “Did you enjoy it?”

I think about the last three and a half years and all the countless hours I put into the sorority, all the social events I’ve been too, the community service, the meetings, and the trips we took. It was
exhausting
.

But did I enjoy it?

“Yeah,” I answer honestly, tucking my legs up beneath me on the bed. “I had a blast. The only thing I regret is that it did some damage to my close friendships…and obviously my relationship.”

“Don’t regret that.” Max’s voice turns serious. “Those were the years you got to be young and carefree. You should be able to experience as many things as possible. Putting that much pressure on relationships should be left for when you’re older.”

“You really think so? Because sometimes I feel guilty.”

“Look, Charlotte. I don’t have many friends, but I think the good ones will always understand. Sometimes you’re just in different places. It happens.”

“Are you just saying that to be nice?”

“Me.
Nice
?” He grimaces.

I laugh. “Okay, in all seriousness—do you
really
believe that?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He leans back on one elbow, facing me. “Let’s just say, for example, I had a sister in college. I’d be telling her the same thing. I’d want her to go off and enjoy life. To say yes to every opportunity that excites her. To travel and see the world. Learn as much as possible. Don’t you want the same for the people you care about?”

My heart tightens when he mentions the hypothetical sister, because I know he must be thinking about the real one.

“You know, I did get to go to Paris last year. The sorority raised enough money to pay for our flights and hotel. It was really incredible. Probably one of the best times of my life.”

He smiles softly. “You see? How could you even think of regretting something like that?”

“What about you?” I ask him, suddenly very curious. “You call me a kid, but you’re only a couple of years older than me. Did you get to have any of these super important life experiences?”

He faces the TV again, punching in the settings. “I don’t feel tied down, if that’s what you mean.”

We both know that’s not what I meant, but I get the feeling he just isn’t as comfortable talking about himself. It bothers me more than I want to admit. I want to know everything there is to know about Max, and not by reading it on the Internet.

“Get ready,” he says, nudging me. “Race is beginning.”

Sitting up straight, I wait for the countdown to end, and then I blast Mario’s race car into drive. Only thirty seconds in, I pass all the players, including Bowser’s motorcycle.

“What the…”

There’s a smirk on my lips growing wider by the second. I can almost feel the shock radiating from Max. If I weren’t trying so hard to keep my position, I’d turn to see his expression.

“How many times have you played this game?”

“Oh, about once or twice…” I answer casually.

“My ass.”

My smirk morphs into a huge grin. “You didn’t let me finish. Once or twice—everyday in high school. Did I mention I have three brothers?”

“No fucking kidding.”

I win the game by a long shot, and Max’s pride takes a hit. “Let’s play a different course,” he grumbles.

“If you think that will help.”

Max moves to the floor, sitting closer to the TV. He’s got his game face on, and in a way, it’s kind of hysterical. This competitiveness came out of nowhere.

The next three games all end with me taking first place. I try to sound consoling. “Hey, at least you beat out Toad and the princess.”

Max scowls at me.

“Wanna play again?” I ask, sweetly.

“Don’t feel like it anymore…I, um…just realized I have a paper cut on my thumb.”

I snort. “Right.”

“Let’s watch
Game of Thrones
,” he says, standing up. “I’ll go get the discs from downstairs.”

“Thought you didn’t want to watch them yet?”

“You managed to convince me.”

“Really?”

“Nope, but I’d rather do that than let you beat me at
Mario Kart
all night.”

I try not to laugh, but can’t stop myself. “You’re such a sore loser.”

His scowl turns darker, and he leaves the room mumbling something about challenging me to a rematch once he ups his game. I lie back on the bed, my laughter dying down. This bed really is comfortable…

I sit back up at once, realizing that it’s also the same spot Taylor was in last night. The same spot where she and Max—ugh, I don’t even want to think about what happened here. I scoot back down toward the edge.

A minute later Max returns with the box set of DVDs, looking a little disgruntled.

“Still fighting?” I venture a guess.

“Yeah.” He loads the first disc, scratching his jaw. “It’s worse than I thought. I overheard Steph shout that it was over, and then she left. You didn’t hear it? She slammed the front door. Shook the whole damned house.”

“No…wow. I didn’t think it would come to that. Is Trevor okay?”

Max shrugs. “He’s too upset to talk. I’ll ask him what happened tomorrow.”

Despite Trevor being, well, Trevor, the two of them seemed so in love. I think back to the day Stephanie took me out to lunch. She said Trevor wasn’t in a place where he could be there for her one hundred percent, and that the two of them couldn’t move forward until that day came.

“Do you think the fight the three of you had yesterday had anything to do with it?”

I know it’s none of my business, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

Max pauses to think about my question, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, I hope not.”

His eyes glaze over as if he’s still considering it, and it makes me feel bad for bringing it up. Now he’s going to question whether it had anything to do with him.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” I tell him. “It probably has nothing to do with yesterday.”

“It’s just—they were both mad at me. They weren’t mad at each other.”

“Like you said, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, they will. They always are.” He reaches for the remote, then gives me a funny look. “Why are you all the way down there?”

“Because,” I say, gesturing to the middle of the huge bed. “I don’t want to be anywhere near what happened there.”

“You’re still giving me a hard time about that, huh?” He tosses me a pillow. “Well, stop being a brat. Nothing happened here.”

“Yeah right,” I choke out. “Nice try, but there’s no way in hell you’re getting me to believe
that
.”

“Jealous?” he asks, his dark eyes dancing with humor.

“Of Taylor? Stop being ridiculous.” The accusation hits me hard, because I am a little jealous, which is one more thing I’m adding to the list of confessions he’ll never get out of me.

“Listen,” he sighs. “If it makes you feel better, I swear nothing happened here…on the bed.” He coughs, looking around the room. “It, um, happened over there.”

“In that
chair
?” I stare at the navy armchair in the corner of the room, trying to picture how that happened.

Oh good God.
Why
am I trying to picture it?

I shake myself. “Gross. New subject please. And quickly.”

Max chuckles, the sound grating at my nerves. “Actually I’ve been meaning to ask how you like the job.”

“It’s great so far. I’m learning a lot.”

He lies down on the bed next to me, tucking a pillow under his chest to prop himself up. “You don’t have to fear the bed anymore, remember? Feel free to get comfortable without fear of contamination.”

Scooting inward, I stretch out beside Max. I am more comfortable, but also nervous for some reason. His scent is all around me, and he’s staring at me. Now that he’s so close, it makes me want to curl up beside him, run my fingers through his hair, press my lips against that sensual mouth, and—

“Is everyone treating you good?”

I take a deep breath and look away from his penetrating gaze. “Are you kidding me? I think they might be slipping happy pills in the water cooler. Everyone’s amazing.”

He laughs at that. “What about Briggs? Is he a good boss?”

“Yeah, of course.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “You know something, I think he might like me.”

“Briggs? Really?”

I can’t believe I just told him that. But hey, he’s the one who kept pushing for us to be friends. This is what friends do. They talk. Since he just told me explicit information about the sexual activities that happened in his armchair, I don’t see why I have to hold back.

“I think so. He asked me to go salsa dancing with him on Thursday night.”

I don’t mention how Thursday night is a group thing, which makes me suspicious of my own motives for this conversation. It’s like I’m trying to prove how quickly I can move on.

I can feel his eyes boring into me. “Did you say yes?”

I never actually gave Briggs an answer, and I wasn’t planning on going. Until now. Because Max seems way too interested, and I really want to see how he reacts. “Of course I’m going. The guy is handsome, he has a good job, he seems nice—”

“And all he wants from you is sex. Trust me.”

I look at Max now, narrowing my eyes on him. “How do you know what he wants?”

“I’ve known Briggs for years. It’s all about the chase.”

“So what.” I try my best to sound apathetic. “Maybe that’s all I’m interested in too.”

He pierces me with a judgmental look. “You deserve more than that, kid.”

“Right back atcha.”

He flinches as if he wasn’t expecting that. “Let’s just watch the show.”

“Fine with me.”

***

When I wake up, I’m entangled in Max’s arms. As soon as I realize it, my whole body stiffens. My head is resting between his shoulder and his bare chest, and his other arm is slung across my waist.

How did
this
happen?

I don’t even remember falling asleep. We watched TV for several hours. I remember talking to him, trying to guess how the storylines would play out after we finished the third episode. I guess I must’ve drifted off somewhere in the middle of the fourth.

I should get out of here before Max wakes up and realizes he’s holding me like his favorite teddy bear. Very slowly, I lift his arm, shimmying my way out from under it.

“Don’t go.” His arm tightens around me.

I sigh. “Not to burst your bubble, but you’re crossing out of friendship territory again.”

“I’m not kissing you,” he groans.

“Yeah, but your whole body is…touching me.”

“Listen, I haven’t gotten this much sleep in a long time. For some weird reason, your presence is comforting—so please just
stay
.” He says that last word with so much agony I can’t refuse him.

“Fine, but you better keep all your,
ahem
, lower body parts away from me.”