Page 1 of Lovers Like Us
PROLOGUE
3 ½ Years Ago
MAXIMOFF HALE
Ocean splashes against a docked yacht.I stand on the crowded deck and tune out the rowdy end-of-summer bash behind me. Everyone in swimsuits, taller people knock into low-hanging pineapple streamers on their way to thebar.
Torches light up thenight.
I tighten my grip on the yacht’s railing. And I just stare out at the dark horizon. My eyes narrowed andunblinking.
I made acolossalmistake only twenty minutes ago. It plays on repeat in my brain. Like a fucked-up radio station that I can’t shutoff.
I descended the boat’s stairs to the cabins. I meant to use the bathroom, but I solidified at a familiar voice. Coming from a cracked door to the mastercabin.
“I have to tell you something while Moffy is gone,” Jason Motlic said, a senior on the high school swim team. Four of us graduated recently, and college is beginning in a week. So I invited them to my family’s party. Hanging out one lasttime.
I’d evendriventhem here, volunteered to be their sober driver because I don’t drink. And they wanted to gethammered.
So I stood there, hand frozen on the bathroom door. Not moving. Not entering. Just listening to the voices in the nearby cabin and waiting for an inevitable, metaphorical gunshot to pierce mychest.
“I was over at Moffy’s houseyesterday—”
“Bullshit,” Ray said, also a swim team graduate. “Moffy never brings anyone to hishouse.”
But I did. One time.Yesterday.
I let Jason inside my family’s house, and he waited in the living room while I searched the kitchen for my car keys. Just for tengoddamnminutes.
“We’re friends,” Jason countered and then lowered his voice. “His mom was there. I’m telling you, she hadfuck meeyes. So I got a littlecloser.”
I strained myears.
“Then she went at me, horny as fuck. She gave me a blow job right by the microwave.”Fuck you,Jason.
Fuckyou.
I couldn’t move. Barelybreathed.
“Noway.”
“I’m not lying.” They all laughed together, called Jason “the man” and their hands slapped together in a congratulatoryshake.
My skin crawled, blood boiled—and just so we’re clear, I believezeropercent of his story. Sex addict and all, my mom is just like any other normalmom.
She’d never dothat.
Ignore them. Use the bathroom. Forget them.I stayed still, my hand fisting the bathroomdoorknob.
“You think his mom will blow me too?” Rayasked.
“I bet she’d do more thanthat—”
I snapped andboltedinto the mastercabin.
All three of the swim team guys were there. Frozen and wide-eyed at the sight of me and my red-hotrage.
I don’t want to hate people. Idon’twant to be calloused and bitter and angry. But these moments make it so goddamnhard.
