My arms wrapped around Maggie’s neck and her chest rattled against mine. “This wasn’t how I expected to find you.”
She pulled back, her brown eyes found mine, and I felt as if I hadn’t seen her in forever and yet mere hours at the same time. “Oh.” I jumped. “This is Laken.” I hid my wide-eyed gaze saying,THE Laken Laken. The one you heard me ramble and moan and groan about for the past three years. The ex.
Maggie straightened, observing him and his soaked clothes as though he was nothing more than a bystander. They moved toward each other with outstretched hands. “Laken…” Her words dragged as their hands met.
“Augustus,” he replied.
“Right, and you are…?” She trailed off again and it took me a moment to realize. Maggie definitely knew who Laken was. But if she acknowledged that, Laken would know I’dtold her about him, so she acted as if this were the first mention of him.
“Laken is an old friend and is helping me around here while I… readjust.” My “old friend” stood there with an uncomfortable smirk, undoubtedly wondering why Maggie didn’t know who he was.
“Well, pleasure to meet you.” Maggie ended the conversation and Laken returned the compliment. I’d missed her.
An awkward “What now?” silence filled the air, one that made me look around the pasture as if that helped in any kind of way. Teetering back and forth on my feet, I stopped once Laken’s body shifted to face me.
“I’ll finish up feeding and”—Laken glanced down at himself—“then go get into some dry clothes.” His eyes met mine and he allowed the slightest curl of his lips, the kind of grin that showed he wanted to say more but couldn’t. “I’m glad you didn’t burn today.”
I swallowed. The fact that everyone around could’ve felt the tension between us made it so much worse. I couldn’t hide my awkwardness, my mumbling, my loss of words. “You sure you got it here?”
He nodded. “I think I can manage.” How did he answer so fluently? He wasn’t bothered, shaken, or distressed. He didn’t even seem to care.
“Okay, well… see you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early,” he replied, leaving me and my friend to reunite and catch up. Right then, I noticed the slip of his smirk and how he shoved his hands in his pockets. He wasn’tbothered because he liked it. He liked that I asked, that I cared.
So I could never do it again.
Unfortunately, the accusing expression on Maggie’s face heated my cheeks like the sun’s rays on a summer day.
“What was that about?”
I bit my lips. “What was what about?”
Her features dropped into a deadpan frown. “You know exactly thethatI am talking about.”
I moved past her, leading her up to my room so I could change and get Blaze out of my bed. “There is nothatto talk about, so perhaps you are confused.”
“I am not confused.” She stormed after me up the narrow wooden stairwell. “And for you to seriously insinuate I am is highly offensive, Reece McCarthen. You stop right now.”
I stopped, turned to her in the threshold of my door, and clenched my jaw.
Maggie watched carefully, tracing my stance with her eyes as if reading my damned body language. Her lips curled into a shaming grin and I braced myself. “Have you slept with him yet?”
What?“Yet?” Busting into my room, I tore at my dress. “No, I haven’t slept with him. Why would I?” The words were moaned and groaned as I struggled way too hard to get these straps off my shoulders.
“So what did you do?”
Halfway tangled in a drenched dress with one arm free and the other losing circulation, I caught her stare. How longI waited before answering, I wasn’t sure, but I also wasn’t sure how to answer.What did I do?
“I didn’t do anything.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. I scooted past her as I nearly dislocated my arm yanking it through my straps. “I’ll get it out of you eventually, I have time.”
Hiding my reaction by digging through an extremely unorganized closet, I shuffled through skirts, tunics, and pants until I yanked out a light-blue shirt and brown pants. The thing was, I knew Maggie would get it out of me. She had a way of doing that, but I didn’t feel like having that conversation yet.
“How is everything else going?” She plopped onto my bed.
I turned to her—trying to withhold my pathetic laughter—and thought about lying. However, before I decided, my mouth opened. “You mean aside from cleaning chicken shit out of my boots, losing half my skirts to the hellblazers’ spite fires, constantly being covered in mud, sweat, and tears”—I stopped to breathe—“and the twelve thousand–mac debt notice?” My voice rose and water ironically lined my eyes. “We’re good here, we’re doing great.”
