Page 121 of A Little Complicated

OPHELIA

“Not gonna play the game tonight, huh?” I murmur from the open study room window. The soft breeze ruffles my hair around my shoulders as I grab the edge of the window sill and lean over the threshold. I debated coming out here. Confronting Maverick. Attempting to comfort him. But hanging out on the main floor with all our friends and no Maverick? It was more than I could stomach. So here I am. Hoping and praying he doesn’t push me away.

He’s on the roof like I knew he would be. With his jean-covered ass planted on the slightly-sloped pitch and two empty beer bottles by his hip, he grasps a third by the neck, staring out at the skyline.

When he hears my voice, Mav glances over his shoulder at me as he brings the bottle of beer to his lips and looks back at the view. I don’t blame him. It’s quite the sight. Lockwood Heights isn’t exactly a big town, and since we’re pretty close to campus, there are rolling hills. Further away are the twinkling lights from most of the city. Not to mention the stars above us. They’re beautiful tonight without a cloud in the sky. And, in a weird way, it reminds me of the first time we hooked up. When he took my virginity after a stupid game of Truth or Dare.

It’s funny.

I thought that would be it between us. A single night and nothing else. That’s all it was initially. Until the next time he came home, and it happened again. He surprised me by texting me the next day. And the next. And the next. We grew closer over inside jokes, late-night conversations, and the occasional secret rendezvous whenever he was home from campus. Until almost a year went by, and I thought I’d found myself in an actual relationship. Or at least the closest thing to it I’d ever experienced. And yeah, they were stolen moments. But they wereourstolen moments. Moments I treasured. Conversations I cared about. About our future. About life and goals and hopes and dreams, and now, he’s given up on his biggest one.

Hockey.

It doesn’t make sense.

Everyone’s downstairs getting drunk and playing UNO. It’s been fun or at least it would be, if I wasn’t too distracted by Maverick’s absence to really focus on anything else. Maverick loves hockey. He’s loved it all his life. So, why? Why would he quit? Why would he throw in the towel after hitting his brother during the first scrimmage game before his senior year even has a chance to start? I should’ve known something was off when he offered to skip practice and hang out with me instead. But I simply thought he was being a regular guy and thinking with his dick, not that he was done with hockey in general.

“Care if I join you?” I prod.

“You should go inside,” he says without bothering to look at me. “I’m not in the right headspace, Lia.”

Careful not to bump my head, I ignore his suggestion and climb out the open window without waiting for his invitation, well aware I won’t get one.

“Where’s Archer?” he adds.

“Downstairs with Tatum and the guys.”

He nods, taking another sip of his drink. “How’d you find me?”

“You’ve always been a sucker for rooftops.”

His smile is sardonic at best as he brings the bottle to his lips again. “True.”

Thankfully, the roof isn’t too sloped, but I watch my step and make my way toward him. “So, why’d you quit?”

“Arch has quite the mouth,” he notes. “But I bet you liked that about him.”

“Mav,” I warn, sitting next to him.

“Why’d you have to show up in his jersey, Ophelia?” he growls. But it isn’t angry. It’s…sad.

“Telling Finley I can’t wear my best friend’s jersey because it might make his brother jealous is kind of a red flag, don’t you think?”

“He isn’t me,” Maverick breathes out.

The words hit like a wrecking ball, and I jerk back slightly.

It hurts.

Fuck, it hurts.

The defeat. The slight undertone of jealousy and resentment. The surrender.

“Pretty sure we already proved you two aren’t interchangeable,” I remind him. “You know I’m well aware of how different you are.”

Whatever relief I hoped to find from my reassurance is absent as he stares at the bottle in his hands. “You should go inside, Opie.”

“No.”

---