Page 146 of A Little Complicated

Maverick lifts the cup to his mouth and drinks it as the crowd stays silent, watching the exchange. It doesn’t matter how I broke up with Archer before Maverick kissed me. Again, accuracy isn’t the point. Archer’s goal is to shine a light on what happened. It’s to paint a big, fat A on our chests like inThe Scarlet Letter. And Maverick’s giving his brother exactly what he wants.

Once he’s finished, Maverick says, “Never have I ever taken a girl for granted.”

Archer grins but doesn’t drink any of his beverage. He lifts a brow as if waiting for Maverick to eat his words and take a shot. When Maverick doesn’t, Archer shifts his attention to me, and all I see is contempt. “Never have I ever cheated on my boyfriend with his twin brother.”

Silence.

Fucking silence.

It’s so loud my ears ring as every single person around the circle stares at me. My chest tightens, and my lungs give out, but I don’t move. I don’t even blink. I can only stare at my best friend. Shocked. Hurt. Sickened. I’m blindsided and feel like I’m not even in my body anymore. It’s as if I’m watching the entire scenario unfold from a distance, and all I can think is,Poor girl. I can’t believe he would do that to her.

As I stay frozen in my seat, Archer’s eyes hold mine hostage, daring me tonottake a sip. To not out myself in front of everyone. It’s embarrassing. And rude. And uncalled for since I didn’t cheat on him. We weren’t together anymore. But it doesn’t excuse my behavior or the pain I’ve put him through. Nothing does.

“You gonna take a sip, Lia?” Archer challenges. His tone is downright lethal.

So this is how it is.

It doesn’t matter what I have to say or how I’ve been trying to talk to him in private. Right now, he wants a show. He wants to embarrass me the same way I embarrassed him by falling for his brother.

Fine.

Without bothering to explain myself, I lick my lips and throw the rest of my drink back. The bitter alcohol goes down like water, but even its warmth does shit to defrost the frigid gaze holding me in place from across the lawn. When my cup’s completely empty, I stand and head inside without a backward glance.

Footsteps follow me as I make my way past the kitchen.

“Ophelia,” a low voice calls, but I don’t answer.

“Ophelia,” he yells again.

It’s Maverick. The deep growl. The hint of impatience.

I can’t face him right now.

I don’t want to.

Not when everything is such a mess. Not when I feel so ashamed. I chose to go to prom with Archer. I chose to date him despite knowing I was still hung up on his brother.

This is on me. But it’s on Maverick too. For breaking my heart in the first place. For playing with me—toying with me—when he damn well knew I still wanted him even though I shouldn’t. And I’m not ready to face him. Not when I don’t know what I can have or what I’ve already lost, thanks to everything that’s happened.

Ignoring him, I rush out the front door and take a sharp turn into my own house, locking the door behind me. The girls have their keys, but I’m not in the mood for anyone else. Not tonight.

A loud knock pounds on the solid wood as I rest my back against it, sliding to the ground while my mind replays what just transpired.

My dirty laundry was aired out in front of everyone. Everett. Griffin. Reeves. Let alone a few of my new teammates and a cacophony of strangers I’d hoped to turn into friends one day. Now they know the truth. I love two brothers. One in nothing more than a platonic way, and the other I’m so in love with, it hurts. But it doesn’t take away the gravity of my feelings for either of them.

And even though I’m pissed at Archer for putting me on the spot, I deserved it, and I’m still the catalyst. The one who screwed up in the first place. He didn’t deserve this, and neither did Maverick. To be caught in the crosshairs. To be pitted against each other. To be turning their frustration on each other when I deserve it. I deserve it all.

Closing my eyes, I listen for Maverick’s retreating footsteps, but I don’t hear any.

I can’t even blame Archer for being a dick. I knew all his bottled-up frustration was going to come out at some point. In a way, I was at the party so itwouldcome out. Like drawing poison from a snake bite. I knew it was necessary. Inevitable. But I didn’t think it would happen in front of everyone. At least it wasn’t in front of our parents. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

“I know you’re in there, Goose,” Maverick murmurs.

Softly, I knock the back of my head against the door, wishing it would bring clarity.

“Talk to me, Ophelia,” he begs.

Speaking of drawing out poison.

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