Page 106 of In Your Wake

Maxine’s eyes widen, traveling from the bed up to my face. “Was that your phone?”

I tug on my earlobe and play dumb. “What was?”

The phone buzzes again, but this time I can’t help but smile.

“You bastard.”

I pull out the phone and read the text.

Spencer

All done yet?

Me

Nearly.

I send my reply, then shove the phone back into my pocket. Max scowls at me, her eyes ablaze but not in the good way.

“You’ve had your phone this whole fucking time?”

“Spencer’s coming to let us out,” I reply, ignoring her question.

“You could have gotten us out of here before—” She glances at the bed, then squeezes her eyes shut, turning her back to me. “You’re unbelievable!”

She stands by the door, waiting like a caged animal dying to get out.

I hadn’t been a fan of Spencer’s plan even when he insisted it would help us. But I never thought he’d actually go through with it and lock us in. Now I feel like an asshole. All it’s done is make a messy situation even messier.

“We needed to talk.”

She spins around, her eyes narrowed. “And your solution was to hold me against my will?”

“You wouldn’t have had this conversation if I’d just asked. You’ve dodged the topic every single time.”

She leans against the wall, drops her head back, and stares at the ceiling. “Whatever. I’m so done with this.”

“Tell me the truth, do you regret what we just did?”

“Oh, I do now,” she answers with a derisive laugh.

I step up beside her and brush my fingers down her arm, watching shivers erupt across her skin. Her eyes follow my hand, but she doesn’t swat it away.

“You’re only pissed that I lied. Deep down, you enjoyed it. And I think you want more.”

Her eyes meet mine, softer now but sad, too. “No, that’s where you’re wrong.”

The doorknob jiggles and the door swings open. Spencer stands in the hallway, looking amused as he takes us in. “Everyone alive in here?”

“You’re both such pricks,” Maxine spits, and shoves past him, storming down the hall.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Spencer replies, but then he snickers. “Rough seas?”

I release a loaded sigh, leaning against the doorjamb. “The roughest.”

22

Maybe