Page 11 of The First Love Myth

“You’re the one lurking in my driveway with your lights off.” He opens my door and offers his hand after I roll up the window and unlock the doors. His hands are cold despite the warm night. Goose bumps rise on my arms. I let myself believe it’s because of his touch alone. He can still do that to me. I remember his hand on my cheek that night by the pool at that awful party. My whole body felt like it would break apart at his touch. I missed it so much. It hasn’t been like that since then, but there’s still something. Will there always be? Is that the aftereffect of loving someone?

“I was reading a text message.”

He doesn’t take the bait. And why would he? Andrew has me, and he knows it. I’m so fucked.

He drops my hand but pulls me against his side, moving his hand to the small of my back as we walk. Like he always did. For the briefest moment, I step back from this night and what I’m about to do and whom I’m about to do it with. I forget my reasons. I forget the ache of losing him. I focus on him. Aside from easy sex, what is Andrew getting out of our arrangement? He made his feelings on our relationship clear before and after his cheating. During our last argument, he told me we weren’t good for each other anymore. That we were holding each other back. Don’t ask me from what because, for me, Bellewood is the definition of living my best life. The next morning, he rescinded all his comments with kisses and sweet words and promises of giving me a lavaliere one day. And I wanted to wear his Greek letters so badly. I wanted that privilege. But two weeks later, I found him in bed with Claire. Since that moment, his actions and words haven’t aligned. When we’re together, he is the boyI love. The second we’re apart, we’re exes through and through. Sometimes I wonder if he would acknowledge my presence beyond a nod of welcome. That situation has not occurred yet, thank god. Anytime we’re at the same place at the same time, we leave together. But beyond that, we aren’t putting on a show. No one would mistake us for friends and definitely not for lovers.

Andrew’s voice pulls me back from my spiraling thoughts. And I’m grateful. If I go too far down, I’m not sure I’ll walk through the door. And if I don’t walk through the door, who will?

“Mom’s out with Gary.” He leads me through his house, as if I don’t remember the way to his bedroom.

I try not to look around. I haven’t been here since Christmas break. If Andrew remembers that, he doesn’t let on. His voice is calm and collected and normal, as if we still do this every day. And we did this so many days. Memories wash over me despite my protests. Dinners and movie nights, double dates with Rob and Claire, hours cuddling and whispering and being in love.No.I push everything away. I cannot do this now. If Andrew sees a hint of weakness, he’ll stop texting. There’s no “I love you” in this arrangement. He’s said it more than once in the moment, but I know better. The first time I say those words is when this ends.

Andrew pushes open the door to his room and fixes me with a sardonic look. “She doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s spending the night there anymore.”

I turn my gaze from him. His room has not changed. Literally not at all. The picture of us with all our friends on prom is still on his desk, the one of us from graduation on his nightstand. My face stares back at me from amongst his things, and yet we’ve been home for over a month. There was more than enough time to discard all of this. I did it before I unpacked. But here, our memory remains alive and well. I sit down on the bed and stare at my hands in my lap. My heart thumps a broken beat. Whatever any of this means, I can’t think about it now. Or ever.

“Seriously, Zo, it’s like I left for college, and she forgot how to be a mother.” He hits a few keys on his laptop, and music fills the space. “I told her you were coming over tonight, in case she came home or whatever, and she said, ‘Thank god,’ and told me it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”

I smile, and it’s natural. Ms. Singer loves me. Everyone knows that. And I’m a little glad that she sees her son for what he is. That she knows we’re better together. Maybe this move from the back of the car and motel rooms and other clandestine spots does mean something, considering he told his mom.

A little ball of hope snakes its way into my heart, and I let it stay.

“I knew that would win me a smile.” He crosses the room, lies down on the bed, and then pulls me on top of him. “I miss that smile.”

Damn, he’s good. Andrew knows exactly what to say to keep me coming back. Tonight, though, maybe because I let myself dig into the truth of what we’re doing or because his bedroom offers the comfort of nostalgia, I want to ask the question that trots through my mind every time he rolls out a line: If you feel that way, why did you sleep with my best friend? I’ll never ask it. The answer might kill me. But tonight, I want to grab his shoulders and shake him and scream,Why? Why did you destroy us only to come back to me?

I don’t do this because of course I don’t. I’m not an idiot, and I want to have sex tonight. I toy with the buttons on his shirt and then run my hand across the skin I uncovered. His heart beats the same steady rhythm as always.

“You saw my smile last week.” I keep my eyes from his, instead kissing his neck and removing his shirt.

“Not that one.” He kisses me, long and deep. It’s full of want and possessiveness and something else I can’t place. SomethingI haven’t felt in the last month from him. “I haven’t seen that one in ages.”

That’s your fault.Another thing I don’t say. Instead, I unclasp his belt and align our bodies. Desire rockets through me. He explores my body in the ways I like because he knows every way I like. We pull and tug at each other’s clothes until there’s little between us. Lust and desire replace love and need. This moment is urgent and fierce and our new normal. This is going to hurt tomorrow, more than any other time because of where we are, because of the softness of his smile, and the three words he whispers as we come together. But tonight, I can’t think of that because tonight, it’s only me and Andrew and the unerring truth that we fit—always.

Chapter 9

Zoey

The next morning comes too soon and with it all the regrets I pushed away the night before. I am bleary-eyed and grouchy as I walk onto the track despite the cloudless blue sky. Lap by lap, Max draws me out of my bad mood, finally kicking it to the curb with his offer for breakfast at Ardena Café. We sit across from each other, making small talk, as we doctor our coffees. A few minutes later, the waitress drops off our plates. I stare down at my veggie egg-white omelet, wheat toast, and fruit salad. Max is eating bacon. Seriously, he ordered four sides of bacon to go with his eggs and didn’t even look bashful about it. I was perfectly happy with my order until Max’s Ardena Café Special arrived in all its bacon and pancake glory. Now, I want all the carbs and fats and sugar this place has to offer.

“You can have some bacon.” Max pushes the plate slightly in my direction.

I point at him with my perfectly healthy wheat toast. “I think the bacon kind of negates the workout.”

“Don’t food shame me, Reid.” He slides two pieces of bacon onto my plate with the butt of his knife. “I’m wallowing.”

I wasn’t aware that guys wallowed, but here we are drowning in bacon.

“Zoey,” I remind him and pull a third piece of bacon onto my plate and then a fourth. Because why not? “And why are you wallowing?”

“Well,Zoey...”

My name in his mouth is sinful. Goose bumps sprout on my arms. How did he make my name sound sexy and scandalous and teasing all at once? I don’t dare look up at him. Whatever his face is doing right now will not quell the feelings those two syllables caused. I focus so hard on my bacon, I expect it to start sizzling on my plate.

After a too-long pause that makes me thinks he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, he continues. “I spent the last four days moving my girlfriend into her new apartment in Wilmington, North Carolina, ahead of the start of her two-year graduate program.”

“That sucks, Max,” I say and mean it. “Long distance... I never even considered it... with Andrew—” A laugh cuts off the rest of my thought.Mylaugh, I realize a second too late. Of all the things I was worried about, and it happened right under my nose.

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