Raucous laughter split the moment, and Liv grabbed my hand, the tray of snacks precariously clutched in the other. “Let’s get back in there.”
By the time we returned, the group had reorganized on the floor in front of the couch, forming a loose circle. Jonathan had proposed a game of “Never Have I Ever,” and a bottle of vodka was already making the rounds.
“Get your asses in here,” he said, waving us over. The circle gave way, and we took our spots. Liv amped with excitement, me shaking in my boots, as it were.
These games had a reputation for unearthing things that shouldn’t be unearthed.
The first few prompts were lighthearted: “Never have I ever eaten dessert for breakfast,” “Never have I ever bitten my toenails.” Laughter rippled around the circle, easy and warm.
As I predicted, though, it quickly became more risqué, and the room devolved into hoots, mock-shaming, and playful teasing.Liv kept launching sly looks my way, egging me on to be more daring. I replied with an innocent shrug.
No way was any of my daring stories safe for this environment. Maybe in private, with her, but I was fine to keep this party PG.
“Never have I ever hooked up with someone of the same sex.” Jonathan looked right at Liv and me, a devilish gleam in his eye.
We looked at each other, cocked our heads, and both took a drink. The group lost it, loudly clutching their pearls and laughing, while Jonathan kept repeating ‘I knew it’ over and over.
“It was our freshman year at college, okay,” Liv tried to explain through brightly flushed cheeks. “We were young. Everyone does it.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me,” Jonathan said. “I thought I knew everything about you.”
“Well, apparently you do know everything.” I nudged him with my elbow. “That prompt was locked and loaded. I could see it in your eyes.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Can’t lie. I’ve had my suspicions.”
“Maren…” Liv poked me with the empty bottle.
“Refill. Got it.” My head felt like it weighed twice as much as usual as I struggled to my feet, swaying a little before attempting the first step toward the kitchen.
Just as I reached the door, there was a hard knock that sent my heart lurching. Behind me, calls of ‘Cops!’ and ‘Hide the weed!’ floated over more laughter. I shook my head, straightening my dress as I focused on putting one steady foot in front of the other to reach the damn door without face-planting.
Another knock came just as I put my hand on the knob to open it, and then everything stopped.
Ethan.
Standing there with his hand mid-knock, framed by the light from the hallway. Looking like he hadn’t slept in days. But who was I kidding? Still as handsome as ever. His hair was tousled just slightly, a darker shadow on his usually neat stubble, and those blue-gray eyes…
I swallowed hard to steel myself against the searching storm in them. “Ethan?”
The living room went deathly silent. Or maybe I’d lost my ability to hear anything that wasn’t my heart pounding in my ears.
“I’m here to bring you back home,” he said simply.
24
Maren
“Are we close? Are we close? Are weclose?”
Emma had asked this six times already and we’d been here for—what—thirty whole seconds?
“Em, shut up,” Will groaned, and tugged her hood over her eyes like he was doing the world a service.
She shrieked, batting him away while Sadie egged him on to do it again.
The Common in December felt like someone had taken every holiday collage on Pinterest and smashed them together. Twinkle lights draped from tree to tree, vendors huddled behind steam-fogged carts, the whole place buzzing in that very specific “it’s freezing but we’re committing to this” way. A brass band worked overtime under a canopy, half of them wearing Santa hats and the other half looking like they regretted volunteering.
I was smack dab in the middle of it all, two halves of my life pulling at me like a wishbone.
