“Balcony,” I sputter out, saying the only thing that pops into my head that feels right. But it makes sense for us. So much has happened out on those balconies already.
I turn my head, just enough to peek at Maevyn from the corner of my eye. I can’t read her well, not yet, but I feel like there’s curiosity burning in her gaze, and just a hint of desire.
“Let’s play another game. Tom, where is Sophie’s ideal holiday?” Katie asks.
“England. Where her true love, Charlie Hunnam, is from,” Tom says. Sophie cackles, slapping her thigh as she chokes on her laughter. “She laughs because it’s true,” he says, pointing a thumb in her direction as Sophie nods.
“Westley?” Katie asks, and cool sweat rushes over me.
Shit, my turn again? Okay, think. Maevyn’s sentimental. She’s more about memories than flashy things. She loves stars. Light.
“Norway,” I blurt out.
Everyone looks to Maevyn for confirmation, myself included, and she blinks back at me with awe and confusion.
“Why Norway?” someone asks, but I’m still staring at Maevyn.
“The Aurora Borealis.”
“Aww, is that where you got Aurora’s name?”
Maevyn keeps her eyes locked on me. “It is, actually.”
I release the breath I’d been holding captive as the group keeps going with their answers.
“How did you know that?” Maevyn whispers.
I shrug. “Guess I’m starting to understand you.”
And I want to know more. I want to know if this thrill I’ve been feeling lately is from playing pretend, or entirely to do with Maevyn and the fact that nothing feels fake. No one has tempted me to want to try opening myself up again since things ended with Phoebe. I got too comfortable in my retreat, hiding myself away to lick my wounds.
Everything about Maevyn lures me out of that shell. I want to poke the bear just to see what happens, but I also don’t want to be hurt again.
I don’t want to read into things that aren’t there and get my hopes up for a future that has no chance of surviving.
Not again.
But something about Maevyn pushes in the back of my mind, telling me there’s more to her than what she lets people see. And I don’t want to be like everyone else. Not when it comes to her.
18
I swing my arm around, switching Westley’s grip on my wrist so I’m in control, hand locked around his warm forearm. I can feel the veins where they pop under my fingers, and I push down, sending him to his knees.
“Now that’s a view I can appreciate,” I pant out, the last thirty minutes of exercise catching up with me.
“Back at ya.” He winks at me over his shoulder.
Something’s changed between us in the few days since we’ve been back from camp. The way we move around each other… It’s curious. Daring.Tempting.
“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Westley says, rolling onto his back as we get ready to do another self-defence move.
“Thanks.” I chuckle, crossing my arms over my chest, and leaning on one hip as my mind drifts to West’s startling ability to read me—and the way he’s getting under my skin. “I’ve been practising a long time. When I first started, I did private lessons a few times a week.”
“Good to know.” Westley hooks a leg around my knee and pulls me down, catching me by surprise.
He rolls until I’m under him and straddles me, pinning my arms beside my head.
“Ohh. I love a man who takes charge.”
