I’m immediately shaking my head. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”
“She’s really excited for me to come home.” She frowns faintly as she speaks. “I’ve never spent a single Christmas apart from my family.”
“At all?”
“Nope,” she says. “It’s like a tradition for us. We spend every Christmas together, no matter what. It’s really important to my mom, I guess.”
The silence settles where I wish I could speak, but talking about mothers isn’t exactly my area of expertise. There isn’t a single moment of my life where I can recall even a minute memory of my mom being agoodmom. Really, I don’t know what that’s supposed to look like; I just know that she wasn’t it.
I’m so lost in those thoughts, ones that used to haunt me, that I don’t even realize how much time has passed until Maeve is gathering her things.
As she stands, she tears a piece of paper from her notebook, jotting something down before handing the paper over to me. “I won’t be here tomorrow because of finals. Meet me at my dorm on Saturday morning. Here’s my room number. I’m in the co-ed building.”
“Okay,” I say tentatively, “I will.”
She turns to leave, but twists back around abruptly as her hand comes down on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. My heart skips so harshly in my chest that I have to steady my breathing as I try and fail not to gawk up at her.
“Thanks again for the flashcards, Tate.”
My head does something between a nod and a weird motion that could very likely be mistaken for a small seizure, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she gives me a half-smile and turns to leave the library. The goosebumps that sweep over my body from the lingering feeling of her touch chill me down to the boneas I helplessly watch her go, clutching the piece of paper she gave me tightly in my fist as if it could disappear at any moment.
CHAPTER FIVE
MAEVE
Saturday, December 18th
Ican’t be the only person who packs nearly my entire underwear drawer for a trip, no matter how short it is. What if I accidentally lose a pair? What if my period suddenly decides to become irregular and start when it normally doesn’t? I needoptions.
Granny panties, thongs, seamless, you name it.
Sighing, I throw as many panties that will fit in the remainder of my suitcase as I can and call it a day. The last thing I want is for Tate to show up while I’m sifting through my underwear drawer. Zipping up my suitcase, I pull it next to the two other bags I have packed that are waiting by my door.
Is three too many?
I’m biting the tip of my thumb in the midst of second-guessing myself when a soft knock sounds at my door. Brushing my hair behind my ears and rubbing my palms against my corduroy pants, I tentatively walk over to pull the door open, seeing Tate standing on the other side. I’m taken aback by the backward baseball cap on his head, but only because I can see a few of his brown waves peeking out underneath, framing hisglasses. He dons dark jeans and an oversized sweater, and for a moment, something deep in my stomach does a tiny flip.
“Tatum,” I greet, leaving the door open for him as I turn toward my bags. “I swear, I didn’t pack my whole dorm.”
He smiles sheepishly at me. “I w-wouldn’t have minded if you did.”
I’m so predisposed to expect someone to get angry with me that his words leave me blinking up at him in surprise. He just stands there, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he lifts his head from my suitcases back to me, completely nonchalant about the entire thing.
Staring. You’re staring.
“How did finals go?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest as I tone down my gawking. “Wait, don’t tell me. I forgot that you’re Mr. Photographic Memory.”
He laughs so softly that there’s barely any sound to it. “How did yours go?”
“Good, I think.”
“Good,” he repeats.
Words are on the tip of my tongue, but they fizzle as his dark eyes stay on me for a second longer than normal. They flick away normally, but this time, they linger just long enough for me to notice.
“Well, aren’t we nice and cozy in here?”
That voice.
