Kiss Now, Lie Later Page 6

  I tilt my head casually in acknowledgement of his compliment, but internally my mind is racing. Because I didn’t spend the morning training to lead him to victory. I spent it flirting with a girl who’s so off-limits she should come with a custom warning label. A girl who’s making me reconsider why I should hate the residents of the town I’m currently staring at across the calm surface of the lake. The town that is home to the football team everyone I know is relying upon me to eviscerate.

  And if the two guys sitting next to me knew any of that, I’m not sure if they’d ever forgive me.

  chapter six

  Maeve

  I’m returning from my break when I see them. Him. Wes and a group of his friends have just entered Mo’s and are in the midst of settling in the corner booth. I suck in a sharp breath as I walk over to where Clare is standing, manning the front counter.

  “Perfect timing,” she tells me. “I was just about to head over to take their order.” She nods towards Wes’s table. “Can you cover the register?”

  “I’ll take the booth.”

  Clare looks at me with shock. “What?”

  I’m equally surprised by my own words, but I don’t backtrack.

  “I said I’ll take the booth.”

  “But—it’s Alleghany. They’re Alleghany football players.” Clare’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.

  “I know.” I grab an order pad and start towards the booth. I regret the rash decision the moment Chris Fields looks up and sees me, but it’s too late. I try to channel my boldest alter ego as I take the final steps that will place me directly in front of their booth. Unfortunately, even she screams this is a terrible decision. If I had a choice, I might listen. But more of Wes’s friends are glancing at me, mouths agape.

  “What can I get you guys?” My voice sounds even and calm, and I’ve never been so grateful for anything.

  One of the guys sitting at the end of the booth looks me over. “Aren’t you Coach Stevens’ other kid? Liam Stevens’ sister?”

  “My name is Maeve,” I reply evenly, surprised a random Alleghany football player knows my identity at first glance.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. We don’t need a Stallion spy anywhere near us.”

  “Not sure what I would be spying on,” I reply sweetly. “Didn’t you boys end last season with three straight losses?” I also spent four hours on Sunday catching their quarterback’s passes, which I’m certain was more telling of their team strategy than their lunch orders will be.

  I’m hit with a dozen glares at once in response to my snarky comment.

  “Double BLT,” Wes says. I finally let myself look at him, but he’s staring down at his phone, typing something.

  The guy at the end of the booth looks to Wes, mouth agape. “What are you doing? Didn’t you hear what she just said?”

  “She’s a waitress. We’re ordering food. What’s the issue?” Wes looks up from his phone, but not at me. He looks directly at the guy who spoke to me.

  “But—she’s from Glenmont. A Stallion. A Stevens,” the guy sputters.

  “Who wouldn’t be serving us if someone hadn’t fucked all the waitresses at Burger Barn,” Wes drawls. “Actions have consequences, Baylor.” The other Alleghany players all laugh.

  Baylor groans. “Fine. I’ll take a burger. Medium rare.”

  The rest of the guys all call out their orders, and I scribble them down as quickly as I can. I walk away from their table rapidly and then stick the sheet of paper in the order queue.

  Clare is looking at me with both eyebrows raised. I pretend not to see. Even though Mo’s is located in Fayetteville, we rarely get any Alleghany students in here. On the few occasions we have, I've always let Clare serve them, as the local.

  I busy myself with all the mundane tasks I typically try to avoid to keep myself from looking over at Wes’s booth. I refill all the salt and pepper shakers, take out the trash, wipe down the extra menus, and am in the midst of folding napkins when their large order comes up. I see Clare glance at me once before picking up the tray and carrying their food over.

  Shortly after she delivers their order the bell above the door clangs and a group of girls wearing Alleghany cheerleading outfits enter. Maggie’s not with them, but I recognize a few from the party I went to. They all strut over to Wes’s booth immediately. I force my gaze back to the napkins.

  About twenty minutes later, Clare comes over to me. I’ve moved on to sorting the silverware. I’m grateful there’s only a half hour left on my shift, because I’m rapidly running out of busy work.

  “I’m taking my break, okay? Can you cover the register?” Clare asks.

  “Yup, I’ve got it.”

  I walk to the register, entertaining myself with sorting the receipts as a new way to tune out the loud laughter I can hear coming from the corner booth.

  “You haven’t run out of shit to do yet?”

  I startle at the sound of the unexpected, familiar voice, and look up to see Wes’s grinning face. I glance over at his booth for the first time since I left it, surprised he’s talking to me in public. None of his friends are watching us, but a couple of cheerleaders are.

  “I’m working.” I roll my eyes.

  “I see that.” He smirks, and my attention is drawn to his mouth. I’ve kissed those lips. It’s a bizarre thought to have when we’re standing in public, in front of his friends, while we’re so obviously Weston Cole from Alleghany and Maeve Stevens from Glenmont. Enemies. “So, what’s the damage?”

  “Damage?” I’m still thinking about kissing him.

  “The bill?” Wes holds up the wad of cash he’s carrying.

  “Oh, right.” I pull up his table. “It’s $86.43.”

  Wes holds the money out. “Keep the change.”

  I reach out and grab the offered money. He holds it between his fingers for a moment, and then lets me tug the thick stack of bills away.

  He starts to turn away, but then glances back at me. I can feel more eyes on us. “You should probably count it.”

  I raise my eyebrows. He smirks slightly before continuing back to his table.

  I stare at the stack of money for a couple of minutes before I fan the bills out. There’s a flash of white amongst the green. I pull out a ripped piece of napkin. It’s unused, the cheap material void and vacant. I flip it over. Also unmarked. Wes gave me a blank piece of paper, and it’s a struggle to keep my expression empty and not glance over at his table. I slip the ripped shred of napkin into the pocket of my jean shorts, and resume sorting the receipts.

  Clare returns from her break just as I’ve moved on to wiping the counter, signaling the end of my shift. After saying goodbye to her, I literally flee from Mo’s. It’s a relief to not have to keep myself from looking over at him. To not have to wonder if he’s looking at me.

  Maggie and I made plans to go to the lake, and I make a quick stop at home to change before heading there.

  The lake is crowded, which is hardly a surprise given how warm it is out. Liam and a bunch of other football players are playing volleyball, and several of them wave at me as I stroll down the beach. I wave back, and then am stopped by a few of my soccer teammates, followed by a few friends from student council.

  Maggie’s easy to spot; she’s the only solitary person on the entire beach.

  “Sure you’re willing to sit with a pariah?” she asks caustically as soon as I sit down.

  I sigh. “I’m sorry, Mags. You know how stupid I think this whole rivalry is.”

  “You do?” Maggie asks, sounding surprised.

  “Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

  “Now that I’ve lost most of my friends for no reason, I do. But it’s never taken anything from you. You’re Maeve Stevens. I mean, the rivalry is in your blood, right?”

  “I guess,” I reply. But she’s wrong. The rivalry with Alleghany has taken plenty from me. But it’s never bothered me before. And I know exactly why it’s bothering me now. “How is cheer go
ing?” I ask.

  “It’s all right. A lot more intense than I’m used to.” I grin at that, and Maggie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I actually got invited to the lake last Saturday with the rest of the cheer team. And Weston Cole was there, so Emily was actually bearable.”

  “Oh, really?” He must have gone after our soccer game. “Did you talk to him?”

  My bold, brash best friend lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, right. I would have had to fight my way through twenty people to even get near him.”

  “Huh," is my only comment. Aside from the brief glimpse of him in the kitchen at the party and just now in the diner, I've never seen Wes around his friends and classmates before. I know he's popular, obviously, but Maggie's words make me wonder about meaningless things. Impossible things. Like what it would have been like to be able to visit Alleghany's side of the lake last weekend. If I had been there, would I have had to fight my way through a crowd to talk to him?

  “Maeve? Maeve!” I look over at Maggie.

  “What?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You totally zoned out there.”

  “Sorry,” I respond. "I'm pretty tired."

  “I'm not surprised. You're doing your usual insane training schedule, working at Mo's, and doing that college prep class, right?"

  “Yeah.”

  “You know, summer’s supposed to be about having some fun," Maggie informs me.

  "I'm having fun right now," I tell her.

  She smiles. "Good answer.” Her phone dings, and she pulls it out of her bag. “How thoughtful," she says. “The team went out to eat without me, sent photos, but I'm invited for the ‘optional' practice." She tosses her phone back in her bag with a derisive snort. "This says they went to Mo's, weren't you just there?"

  “Yeah," I shift uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to say anything . . . ”

  “It’s fine, Maeve.” Maggie leans her head back against the chair and lets out a long sigh. “Bit of a disappointing summer, no?”

  “Hmmm,” I hum in response, settling back in my own chair and letting the sun warm my face. It’s an affirmative sound, but I don’t agree with her rhetorical question.

  Thrilling, wildering, tempting? Yes.

  Disappointing? Not at all.

  chapter seven

  Weston

  “Your footwork was definitely more balanced that time,” Maeve comments, tossing the football back to me. “The spiral was perfect.”

  I’m quickly learning Maeve Stevens doesn’t do anything half-assed. Meaning ever since the second time we met at this park a few weeks ago, when she stood and caught throw after throw for four hours while reciting vocabulary from the college prep class she’s taking and spewing stories from the true crime podcasts she listens to, she’s switched to giving me feedback on my throwing technique. And it’s obvious she knows what she’s talking about.

  I told her she doesn’t have to, and she simply shrugged and told me it’s nothing my coach wouldn’t tell me. I suppose that’s true, but I’ve certainly never spent countless hours tossing the pigskin back and forth with Coach Blake.

  “I’ve got to go,” Maeve tells me after a few more throws. “I told my mom I’d be home by seven.”

  “Big plans tonight?” I ask as we gather up our belongings.

  “Not really. You?”

  “Nah, just going mini-golfing with some friends. I’d invite you, but . . . ”

  “That probably wouldn’t end very well for either of us,” Maeve finishes.

  I laugh, even though I’ve come to view the Alleghany rivalry with Glenmont as anything but amusing. Mostly due to the stunning blonde standing in front of me. “Probably not,” I agree.

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you, Wes,” Maeve gives me a small smile before she starts walking towards her sedan.

  “Aren’t we meeting tomorrow?” I call after her. We’ve met every Saturday for the past few weeks, since it seems to be the only day we’re both always free.

  Maeve spins around, biting her lip in what I recognize as one of her nervous tells. “Uh, no. I’m actually leaving for my grandparents’ early tomorrow morning. We always spend a week there before school starts.”

  I’m startled by how much the knowledge I won’t see her for the next week bothers me. I’ve come to rely on our training sessions more than I realized. “Where do your grandparents live?”

  “It’s a small beach town. In South Carolina.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “Yeah, it is. But my mom’s real estate office has a branch there, so she’ll end up working the whole time. And my dad will be preparing for the season and training with Liam. Plus, Liam convinced our parents to let him bring Matt along as a ‘training buddy.’ But Maggie has cheer and my other best friends are gone for the summer, so I’ll mostly be playing card games with my grandmother.” She laughs. “Thrilling times.”

  “Matt Crawford is going on vacation with your family?” I hope my voice sounds nonchalant, because I’m feeling anything but.

  “Yup,” Maeve confirms. “See you later, Cole.”

  “Bye, Stevens,” I manage. Maeve climbs into her car and pulls away, leaving me standing there. I’ve been so focused on all the reasons why she and I can’t work I never stopped to consider that she and someone else could. It’s an unsettling thought, but not as disconcerting as the realization of how much it would bother me. Seeing her with another guy. I knew I was attracted to Maeve, but this possessiveness? It’s new.

  It’s concerning.

  I drive home, opting to slip in through the back door when I arrive home. I can hear my parents arguing in the kitchen, and I have no interest in getting involved in their latest spat. I head up the main staircase, dropping my football bag on the dark wooden floor of my bedroom. I shower, and dress in my standard summer uniform of shorts and a t-shirt.

  I head out into the hallway, and encounter my mother as soon as I hit the stairs.

  “Weston!” she exclaims. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

  “Not surprised you didn’t hear me pull in,” I reply. “Sounded like you and Dad were having another lively conversation.”

  She sighs. “Wes, don’t start, please.”

  “Fine,” I reply. “I’m going out.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m meeting some of the guys.” I start down the stairs.

  “Okay, don’t be out too late!” my mother calls after me. I don’t bother to respond. My father’s car is already missing when I reach the driveway. I climb back into my car, and peel out of the driveway, headed towards the one pizza place in town.

  Since it’s a Friday night, the restaurant is packed when I arrive. It takes me a while to navigate through the hordes of people wanting to talk to me, but finally I manage to plop down in the booth next to Chris.

  “Sure you don’t have a few more adoring fans to greet?” he asks, grinning.

  I roll my eyes. “Jealous of my popularity?”

  Chris scoffs. “Hardly. It looks exhausting.”

  I laugh. “It is. You guys order yet?” I glance across the table at Charlie and Adam. They both shake their heads.

  “Damn. I’m starving.”

  “Where the hell have you been all day?” Chris asks. “I texted you earlier saying we were headed to Baylor’s pool, and you never replied.”

  “I know. I was training.”

  “All day again?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Should make my job easier in September,” Adam remarks, shrugging. Charlie and Chris eye me dubiously.

  “Yes, that’s the reason I’m training so hard,” I respond, rolling my eyes. “To simplify things for you, Powers.”

  After we devour several pizzas, we all head to the mini golf course. Most of Alleghany High seems to be there already. Unless someone’s throwing a party, evening entertainment is pretty scarce. Emily spots me and heads over with a group of fellow cheerleaders in tow.

  “Now I remember why we’re friends, Cole,” C
harlie comments as the girls stroll towards us. “You’re a total hot chick magnet.”

  “Haven’t seen much of you this summer, Weston.” Emily gives me a sultry smile, and for once it doesn’t have any effect on me. Instead, I mentally add her dimple-less expression to the ever-growing list of things that make me think of Maeve Stevens, right after cola and the color pink.

  “I’ve been around,” I respond.

  “He’s been training,” Chris pipes in with.

  “Good. You’re going to make my job easy this season, right Weston?” Adam rolls his eyes as she copies his line, and I choke back a laugh.

  “I sure hope so,” I reply, stepping away from her to grab my ball and club from the window.

  Emily and a couple other cheerleaders join our game, which means it proceeds at a snail’s pace. Emily manages to brush against me every time it’s her turn, and I get a number of amused looks from the guys every time she does.

  We finally reach the final hole, and it takes me three attempts to sink the ball in the tiny opening. I step aside to let Adam go next.

  I lean against the fake stone tunnel we just emerged from, and pull my phone from my pocket, scanning the notifications on the screen. Nothing from her. I tuck the phone back in my pocket, only to pull it out again a few seconds later. After another minute of hesitation, I text Maeve What’s your best mini golf score?

  Plus two of whatever you managed, she responds immediately. I feel a wide grin stretch across my face.

  Why two? I reply.

  One allows for a margin of error and I thought you’d think I was too overconfident if I said three Maeve sends back.

  Margin of error? Are you doing your prep class right now? I ask.

  Maybe is her first response. A minute later, Yes.

  I send Nerd back, and she doesn’t reply. We’ve never had an elongated conversation over text before, and I didn’t realize just how much I rely upon seeing her expressive emerald eyes to know what she’s thinking. I’m almost done here, I finally add. We could meet up after, if you want?

  Three dots appear and then disappear twice. I’ve got a lot of packing to do Maeve finally responds. I’m about to slip the phone back into my pocket when the indication she’s typing appears again. And I don’t need any pity invites she adds.