Page 28 of Not Until I Found You

“First of all, I’m an amazing friend. Secondly, I saw the way you were with her. You haven’t been that way with a woman in…honestly I don’t remember.”

“Just because I gave her a hug doesn’t mean anything. I was being neighborly.”

“It wasn’t the hug, doofus. It was how you looked at her,” she snaps, and I flinch as she smacks my arm again.

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out, because unfortunately, I know exactly which look she’s talking about. I exhale in frustration and move over to another chair so she can’t smack me again.

“Your imagination is getting carried away.”

She scoffs. “It’s not. I have twenty-twenty vision. I know what I saw.”

I hate that she isn’t wrong, because I’ve been noticing Maxinne—and far more than I should be. This is a problem because she’s only been here for a few days, and I’ve had to remind myself several times that she’s freshly out of a broken engagement and is only here for the summer. There are about a hundred different reasons why I shouldn’t be thinking about her, and yet I keep noticing her anyway.

“See?” Wren says, pointing at me.

I furrow my brows. “See what?”

“You got that look again.”

“What look?”

“The one where you disappear into your own head because you’re trying very hard not to admit something.”

I let out a long sigh. “You’re exhausting.”

“That’s not a denial.” She points at me with an accusing finger. “Even though you want to hide behind this emotionless disguise you’ve created when you’re around women, I know deep down you’re still capable of feelings. I saw it just now!”

“Wren—”

“No,” she snaps. “I want to see you finally move on with your life and find that special someone. It doesn’t have to be Maxinne, but there has to be someone out there good enough for you to try again. You deserve to be happy.”

Her voice softens, and her teasing falls away. She’s addressing the fact that I’ve spent years convincing myself that being alone is easier, but I’m not sure that I’m ready to do things the hard way. Not right now, anyway.

“I hear you.”

“Good, I’ll drop this…for now.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she shouts, tossing a marshmallow at me.

“Hey—” I start to say, but she tosses another marshmallow, and it bounces against my forehead.

I bend over and pick up a handful for myself, and then, somehow, we launch ourselves into an all-out marshmallow war. I send one that pops her in the nose right as hers hits me in the shoulder—that’s still throbbing from her slap, might I add. Sven starts jumping up and down in attempts at catching the flying treats.

“What’s going on here?”

Wren and I freeze mid-throw and turn toward the voice. Maxinne touches her lips, keeping a smile at bay, her eyes snapping between the two of us. Her long dark hair hangs past her shoulders, still wet from a shower, and she’s wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms with a loose fitted shirt.

My eyes take in her face, completely bare of any makeup, right as Wren tosses a marshmallow at my head. It smacks me against my cheek, and I frown in disapproval as Wren snorts. Maxinne lets her laugh escape, and it’s hard to be upset when we’re rewarded with the beautiful sound.

“Are there any marshmallows left for s’mores?” Maxinne asks, taking a seat.

“Yeah, I brought two bags.” Wren holds up a bag.

“I’m Wren, by the way.” She gives Maxinne a little wave.

“Hi, I’m⁠—"