My lungs seem to tighten, waiting for her to drop whatever terrible bomb she’s dangling.
“Apparently, there was this girl they both liked—I know, drama—but she chose Brody, who supposedly wasn’t even all that interested. It rubbed Derek the wrong way.”
Losing to Brody? I want to say. Who would have thought?
“And he got it in his head that Brody’s some sort of womanizer. So when that thing between Brody and Derek’s cousin happened?—”
“What thing?”
Maya pauses, her head tilting. “You didn’t hear about that? Derek’s cousin, Ashley, is this wannabe influencer. Honestly, she comes off a little desperate for attention to me, but Derek’s got a soft spot for her. So he got her this social media job at a Blue Ox charity event a few months ago, and that’s when she met Brody.”
My stomach drops.
Ashley Morrison.
The girl with the viral post about Brody.
“Ashley got Brody’s number—said it was for work, social media stuff for the team. She started texting him. I’m not sure if Brody led her on or what?—”
“He didn’t.”
Maya’s voice is careful. “Well, she says he used her. And Derek believes her version.” And I believe Derek. I can read between the lines.
“But that’s not what happened.”
She lifts her hands, as if to say Who knows what’s true?
I do. I know what’s true.
“Derek only sees that his cousin got hurt and humiliated online. And he blames Brody.”
“So Derek thinks Brody is some kind of serial heartbreaker.”
“Exactly. And now Derek thinks Brody’s doing the same thing to you. Using you for his image repair and that he’s planning to dump you when the press dies down.”
If my stomach sank before, it’s bottomed out now.
Because that’s exactly what’s happening.
I think.
I don’t know anymore, because that almost-kiss at his house made things so much more complicated than they were supposed to be, and the way he held my hand at Barcelona felt so real, and I’m so confused I could scream.
“Derek’s wrong,” I say. The words taste like ash. “Brody’s not—he wouldn’t?—”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Maya’s voice is soft.
Huh. For once, it doesn’t feel like condescension. She’s really worried about me.
She meets my eyes. “So I’m giving him a chance,” she says firmly. “Despite Derek’s opinions. Despite the history with Ashley and college and all of it. I’m reserving judgment.” She reaches across the island. Takes my hand. “And I think you could be really good for each other.”
I can’t speak. I mean, what would you say?
“Thanks,” I manage. My voice sounds strangled. “That means a lot.”
She squeezes my hand. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I’ve seen how he looks at you, but I’ve seen how you look at him too. Like he’s the answer to a question you’ve been asking your whole life.”
What question is that?
