Page 52 of Unrequited (Unrequited 1)

“I would. I mean, I’m more inclined to focus on the drummer, but I’m a whole band kind of girl.”

I slung my elbow over the steering wheel. “You’re an exception to a lot of rules.”

Her eyes tightened with suspicion. “I don’t know what that means and I don’t think I want to know.”

“It doesn’t mean anything more than what I just said. I’m not here to insult you or belittle you, Maeve, so stop picking apart everything I say.”

“Are you really tellin’ me how to react again?”

“I’m not.”

She didn’t do this with anyone else. Murray could say some stupid bullshit to her, and she’d laugh it off. She never questioned Mo’s intentions or got on Yael’s case. I knew this wasn’t the real her. I’d made her this way.

Her sigh was heavy. “I know. Let’s go shop and stop bickerin’ like an old married couple.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in a mall. I ordered my shit online, or sometimes kept clothes from photoshoots. The crowds, the lights, the noise, all bugged me. Made me itchy, like I might try to escape my skin. Maeve didn’t seem to mind it. She stopped in Sephora first, getting in a long conversation with a man who worked there named Dylan. He convinced her to try a new lipstick, which she asked my opinion on.

Dylan stood behind her, hands on his narrow hips, perfectly arched eyebrow raised, like he dared me to say Maeve looked nothing short of spectacular.

I wasn’t a liar, but I chose my words carefully.

“It’s nice,” I said.

Pink flared in her cheeks. “Nice? That’s the kiss of death.”

“How is ‘nice’ bad?”

“I look ‘nice’ without a thirty-dollar lipstick. Or, I think I do. Maybe I’m wrong.”

She was not wrong. Freshly scrubbed Maeve was just as beautiful as dolled up Maeve. Maybe even more enticing, because it was a side of her not many saw. A private side.

“You do look nice with no makeup,” I agreed.

She scrunched her nose and turned her back to me to confer with Dylan. “I don’t think this is the one.”

“Honey, you look so fly. Clearly he has no taste,” Dylan said, giving me the stink eye again. I was second guessing my reason for being here. Hell, I was third or fourth guessing it. Maeve could have easily gotten here with hipster douche, and I’d be home, kicking it with a beer, not being abused in a makeup store.

Maeve turned back to me with wet raspberry lips, and I no longer questioned my reasons for tagging along. I questioned my fucking sanity for thinking this was a good idea.

Trying to speak only resulted in me choking on my own tongue. Leaning over, I braced my hands on my knees, drawing in as much air as I could while coughing.

“That good, huh?” Maeve had amusement in her voice.

“Oh, honey, when you nearly kill a man who looks like that, you know you’re wearing the right lipstick,” Dylan assured her.

She giggled. “I’d better wipe it off before he falls over and croaks.”

When I regained my senses and control of my breathing, she was at the register paying. I wandered out of the store as I waited, peering into the window of the Hot Topic next door. I hadn’t been into one of these since I was in high school. From the looks of it, not much had changed.

A soft, warm hand squeezed the back of my arm. “Hey, I’m all done in there.” Maeve’s voice close to my ear sounded like southern hospitality.

I tapped the window. “Can we go in here?”

She came up beside me, examining me. “Are you kiddin’ me? Hell yes we can go in there. I’m freakin’ delighted you want to.”

She went straight to the wall of T-shirts while I stood in the entrance, overwhelmed by it all. The music of a band we played with last summer blasting through the speakers, plush anime figures, body jewelry, schoolgirl outfits...this place was bananas.

By the time I caught up with her, Maeve was at the register with a pile of T-shirts.

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