And that made all the difference.
23
BECK
“Tired?”
It was a dumb question. After two long days, we were heading back to Cedar Falls. Evidenced by the fact that Mae had put her seat back and had her eyes closed, I knew the answer already. But she’d also been unusually quiet packing up too.
“Very,” she said, eyes still closed.
I waited, considered letting her rest, but also knew I’d be kicking myself when we got back. Since we were closed tomorrow, I most likely wouldn’t see her and couldn’t wait until Tuesday.
“Still wanna talk about last night?”
At first, I thought maybe she’d fallen asleep. Or was avoiding the discission. But a moment later, Mae’s eyes popped open and she turned to me.
I was surprised by her expression. Mae wasn’t tired. She was angry.
“What’s wrong?”
“Honestly? It’s most likely the fact that I haven’t healed yet from Mathieu’s betrayal.”
“Where did that come from?”
Mae did look tired. But worse, defeated.
She sighed. “It came from the fact that you’re just being… you. And because of last night’s kiss, I took it personally. But that’s my problem, not yours.”
I drove mindlessly in the dark, having taken this route hundreds of times. Unfortunately, navigating women’s feelings? Not as much. I usually bailed if they caught them.
Mae put her seat back up and shifted toward me.
“Promise you won’t tease me? This is serious.”
I winced. “Not even a little?”
“No.”
“Okay,” I promised.
“The woman you gave your number to, at the festival. I have absolutely zero reason to care. It was a stupid kiss. And a total mistake, obviously. But still…”
Holy shit. No, no, no, no.
“I didn’t give her my number, Mae.”
“Beck,” she said, reminding me of the time I stole a kid’s bike who was bothering Mason and Mae made us give it back. “I have eyes, you know.”
I was about to say something smart, but remembering my promise, held it back.
“She took it. Without permission. I swear, I did not willingly give her my number, but my hands were a bit tied up at the time.”
“You know her?” It wasn’t accusatory, just a fact.
I winced. “Yeah. We”—I cleared my throat—“dated.”
“Dated? Or hooked up?”
