Page 7 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

I glance up, and she’s back. Alone this time, while Harrison gets settled at a far table. The sympathy I thought I saw before is in ample supply, thawing her often stern expression.

My tension loosens. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry—for your father and what you’ve been through. When I found out…” She closes her eyes on an exhale, then slays me with those emerald beauties. “I can’t imagine what you went through. I’m really glad you’re okay, but the stuff that happened between us is in the past. There’s no point rehashing it, and there’s no avoiding each other in this town. So, can we just agree to forget about it? Say hi and whatever, without all the awkward?”

I clasp my hands over my stomach, trying to read Maggie’s mind. Hearing she worried over me has warmth invading my chest, but as far as I’m concerned, we have unfinished business. Avoiding that topic will only give it more heft.

“Depends. Does your definition of ‘saying hi and whatever’ include me apologizing to you for our last night together?”

Red steals across her cheeks. “You can’t even last one second without bringing that up.”

“Because that was a big deal. It was for me, at least, and I’m pretty sure it was for you. And I—”

“Hello, Maggie.” Desmond returns at the absolute worst time, looking concerningly amused. My brothers have pestered me plenty about Maggie, excavating for the nitty-gritty on how we know each other. I stonewall them every time. Nothing good can come of their interference.

He grins wider at her. “Lennon talks about you all the time. You guys hung out during high school, right? When he flunked math and had to do another year.”

Maggie blanches, neither confirming nor denying facts.

I jam my elbow into Desmond’s thigh. “He’s lying. I never talked about you.”

She winces at that, then swallows hard. Like she’s…upset?

As usual, she’s as tough to read as The Scarlet Letter. (I also flunked high school English.) Does she want to know I replayed our time together on a loop my first few years away? That I couldn’t shake thoughts of her? I relived our first meeting at her pond so obsessively that every detail is etched in my brain—how I tossed and turned with insomnia that night, then headed out on an uncharacteristic midnight walk, traipsing through the forest for so long I got lost and came upon Maggie swimming in her family’s pond.

Battery-powered fairy lights had decorated the surrounding trees, their glow and the moonlight turning her red hair into waves of muted fire. Water sparkled on her pale skin, making her look like an angel or a siren or a whimsical mermaid.

And she was humming the soundtrack to Jaws.

Up until then, I only knew Maggie vaguely from school. She was a couple of years younger than me and best friends with Delilah, but she kept her circle of friends contained. She didn’t talk to the stoners or rockers or skateboarders. She was always prim and put together. I never paid her much mind, until I stood at the edge of her pond, entranced, watching her swim around, humming Jaws, doing somersaults in the water, then karate-chopping the waves. It was hilarious.

She jumped when she saw me, splashing in the water. “Who’s there?”

“Lennon Bower. E’s brother. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She swam toward the edge of the pond until she could stand on the bottom, her yellow bikini top slipping above the surface. “Do you make a habit of sneaking up on girls in the dark?”

“Only pretty redheads who pretend to be sharks.”

Her lips were pressed tight, but the corners twitched. “Make a wrong move, and you’ll see how hard I bite.”

I was curious about her bite. About this silly girl who played demure at school. “Is standing here to enjoy your beautiful pond the wrong move?”

She folded her arms over her wet bikini top. “It’s definitely creepy since I’m at a disadvantage, being in the water down here.”

Without thinking twice, I walked into her pond, shoes and socks and sweatpants and all, getting completely drenched. Just walked right in, right up to Maggie, and matched her pose, crossing my arms over my chest. “How about now?”

A slow smile lit her face, full of wonder and mischief. “Who are you, Lennon Bower?”

Maggie’s not smiling at me now. She has no clue how many hours I’ve spent reliving our secret nights and endless discussions, our blunt honesty as we swam around each other with only the stars and trees to witness our growing attraction. She actually thinks I went into WITSEC and didn’t give her a second thought.

“I don’t share personal details with my family,” I say for both her and Desmond’s benefit, choosing my words carefully. “Not when they can take my favorite ones and use them to torment me.”

She bites her lip. Again. This woman lives to discombobulate me.

“Magdalene,” E says, popping up beside my table, getting in my business too. “Remind me again how you know Lennon.”

She faces E, serene and haughty. “Remind me again why a grown man draws doodles all day?”