Page 126 of A Little Complicated

I hesitate. Unable to look him in the eyes, I stare at his messy brown hair instead. The same hair I’d been running my fingers through. I wipe my palms against my jeans and fold my arms. “I need to deal with one fucked-up relationship at a time, Mav. Looks like you’ll have to wait your turn.”

I head back to my place, and by some miracle, I don’t run into Archer on my way out. But it doesn’t mean I won’t have to face him at some point. And when I do? I’ll have to tell him the truth.

Clutching the edge of the toilet, I puke what little I’d eaten into the bowl, my eyes watering and my vomit choking me.

I fucked up.

40

OPHELIA

Tatum’s right.

I screwed up.

After catching us, she sent my dad a text saying she had the flu, and a little while later, he picked her up without hesitation while I hid in my room, pretending to have the same stomach bug.

It was for the best.

I can barely look myself in the eye right now, let alone my sister. How did I let this happen?

I’m better than this.

I know I am.

So is Maverick.

He wouldn’t hurt a fly, not really. Let alone his twin brother.

But he touched me anyway.

And I’m not the one caught in the crosshairs.

Archer is.

There isn’t anything I can say or do to take him out of it.

We pretended like we could go back to before. Like we could hook up in secret without it hurting anyone. But we forgot one key piece of the puzzle. His brother. My best friend.

I knew it would hurt him. Maverick knew it would hurt him. But we did it anyway. We were selfish. Cowards. He deserves to know.

As the hours passed, I tossed and turned, unable to quiet the voice inside my head screaming at me to tell him. To tell Archer what I’ve done.

He deserves to know.

This is going to suck.

* * *

I shower slowly,procrastinating like a champ. Slapping on my hand-me-down baseball hat, I hope it’ll help me sieve off a bit of my father’s courage. Without bothering to see what a mess I look like, I head to Archer’s. I had the foresight to text him last night, telling him I wasn’t feeling well, and I went home so he wouldn’t worry. He bought the lie easily since Tatum used the same one.

I woke up to soda crackers on my porch and a note telling me to feel better soon. It only made me feel worse.

He’s perfect. And way more thoughtful than I’ll ever deserve.

My hands shake, but I fist them into tight little balls, keeping my head held high as I knock on the boys’ front door. My stomach twists when Maverick opens it a minute later. His shirt is missing. His tan chest and inked skin on full display, acting like salt on an already oozing sore.

When he sees me, he glances behind him, preparing to meet me outside. “Hey.”

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