Maya closes the door behind her, then turns to face me, her eyes—so much like Noah’s—searching my face.
“Okay,” she says, without preamble. “Tell me what the fuck is really going on.”
For a moment, I just look at her, not sure what she means. Then I shrug.
“Nothing,” I say, even though my face probably says the exact opposite. “Noah already told you everything.”
Maya studies me for a long moment, her head tilted slightly. Then she purses her lips.
“Connor.”
“What?”
She arches an eyebrow, like she knows I’m full of shit and is waiting to see how long I’ll keep going.
“There’s nothing else to tell,” I say, folding my arms across my chest, though it only makes me feel more defensive.
“Yeah, right,” Maya says, looking up at me. “Then why have both of you looked miserable all night?”
Even though I’m twice her size, I suddenly feel like I’m back in high school, being scolded by my favorite English teacher.
“I don’t know,” I say, then quickly add, “We’re not miserable. We just…”
My voice fades, because I have nothing else. Iamfucking miserable. Noah is harder to read. Angry, definitely. Miserable? I can’t tell anymore.
Maya gives me another one of those long, focused looks that makes me feel like she’s trying to burn a hole straight through me. For the last twenty-four hours, I had her filed away as the laugh-and-create-chaos type, not someone who could ambush me in a bathroom and cut straight through my bullshit.
I sigh and shrug again.
“Noah’s just mad at me because I overdid it with the fake-boyfriend part,” I say. “But you heard that already.”
She keeps staring at me, and honestly, it’s starting to make me uncomfortable.
“What?” I say.
That’s when she blurts, “Are you in love with my brother? For real?”
The question hits me like a punch to the windpipe. It’s so direct and unexpected that I don’t have time to hide my reaction. My face must give me away instantly, because Maya’s eyebrows shoot up.
Oh fuck.
I scramble for a lie, but absolutely nothing comes to mind.
“Oh my God,” she says. “You are.”
“I—” I start, then stop, because what can I say? That I’ve fallen for Noah in the span of one weekend like an idiot? That I can’t stand seeing him with Rick? That I feel sick every time Rick touches him? That I wish every word I said to his parents about moving in together, getting a dog, building a life was true?
“It’s complicated,” I manage finally.
Maya snorts. “Yeah, no shit.” But her expression softens. “Does he know?”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to know. It doesn’t really matter.” My voice sounds miserable even to me. “He’s clearly not over Rick.”
Okay. So apparently I’ve just admitted to Noah’s sister that I’m in love with him. And the only thing stopping me from making an even bigger idiot of myself is the fact that Noah is still half in love with Rick.
Jesus Christ.
Then Maya smiles at me, her whole face lighting up.
