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“I’m sorry, Maddox.”
“I’m better without her.” He looked around the house he’d restored and how much it would have made Gran and Gramps proud. “I was raised by better people anyway.”
“You turned out all right.”
“You too,” he said sincerely.
I much preferred this version of Maddox. It had always been better when it was just the two of us. When everyone else got involved was when things got difficult. We were friends first and foremost. It was nice to remember that.
“So, uh, Marley mentioned she was coming into town next weekend,” Maddox said, toeing the doorframe.
“Yeah. Derek wants to go sailing. I guess Lila isn’t coming because of training camp.”
“And Ash,” Maddox finished for me.
“Yeah. That too.”
“So, you’re going to go with them?”
“Well, yeah. Are you?”
He nodded. “Not sure I have a choice with Mars.”
I laughed. “True. Is it … is it okay that we’re going together?”
“We’re here right now, and it seems fine.”
“You know what I mean.”
His gaze snapped up to mine. The tension that always boiled just under the surface returned. I wanted to crash into him at that look. He’d told me exactly what he thought—that we were too different and could never work—but with that one open window, I could finally see how much of that was false.
He wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around him. No matter the time or distance between us, the want was always there. It had always been there. And being around him again in this city made me want it more than ever.
“It’s hard to be around you,” he admitted.
“It’s harder to pretend I don’t want to be around you though.”
His gaze softened further at my earnest words. “Yeah, I know.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “We can’t ever just be … normal, can we?”
“We have history.”
“Indeed.” He sighed, his eyes moving to where Walt was snoring on the dog bed. He shot him a fond smile. His eyes went distant, as if he were seeing the whole history I’d mentioned. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll hang out next weekend. But … it doesn’t mean anything.” He was careful with his words. “We’ve done this over and over again. I just don’t have it in me to crash and burn again.”
I gulped. “If that’s what you want.”
But I knew that we were going to Tybee Island, and Maddox and I had inescapable memories there. He was guarding his heart, but I wanted to show him that he didn’t have to this time.
13
SCAD
AUGUST 7, 2010
“You’re not going to tell me what we’re seeing?” I asked Maddox skeptically.
I’d agreed to this date last week over breakfast. One date, and if it wasn’t what I wanted, then we could be professional again. As if that was ever going to be possible. Maddox had insisted on an all-day date. I’d looked at him, exasperated, but when he’d shown up in his truck and driven me out to Tybee Island, how could I argue?
We splashed in the water, lounged in the sand, and sketched. It felt like high school all over again—in the best way. We skipped out before the crowds showed up and went to The Crab Shack for their famous low-country boil. I gorged myself on seafood until I thought I’d be sick. It was all so delicious.
After we returned to his apartment to shower and change out of our beach attire, he told me we were seeing a movie and left it at that. The only thing worth seeing in theaters was Inception, and everyone in the film department had already watched that masterpiece. I was sure Maddox had seen it, considering the visual effects were top of the line.
“Nope. You will just have to be surprised,” Maddox said.
But he parked on Broughton, ran around to open my door, and then took my hand as we headed toward Trustees Theater, which was the home of the SCAD Savannah Film Festival. The theater wasn’t likely to be showing any mainstream films. It was mostly Oscar-nominated films and indie films that only us film junkies had heard of.
“It doesn’t even list a film,” I argued.
“I might have called in a favor.” He smirked at me, all self-confident. Where had this been his entire life?
A favor. Well, I hadn’t expected that. Apparently, he’d taken my words as a challenge. My grumpy, introvert boy was pulling out all the stops.
We stepped inside the theater, which could easily seat a thousand. A couple dozen people were already inside, and we took seats at the center for the best view.
“What have you done?” I whispered as the room darkened.
He passed me a ticket stub. I squinted down at it in the dark, and then my breath left in a whoosh.
“Casablanca.”
My eyes met his, and he smiled. “Your favorite.”
“I’ve never seen it on a big screen.”
