Maxon

I walked through downtown Wake Forest without paying attention to the direction I was headed or how long I’d been walking. I was stopped a few times for pictures and autographs, but for the most part, I was able to blend into the people still lingering on the streets and spilling out of restaurants.

Blending in was something I’d always been good at. It’s why paparazzi rarely got pictures of me unless I was out with the guys. Because the guys . . . they were another story. It was as if they had constant spotlights on them, following them around, begging for people to see them.

I didn’t like that part of this life—being seen. Being followed and picked apart until there was nothing left. Until the entire world felt like they knew you.

There was only one girl who had known me. Only one girl I’d ever let really see me. And she was fucking engaged.

That feeling of loss and emptiness crawled through me, slow and agonizing and threatening to consume.

I groaned and raked my hands over my face. I wanted to go back and try to prevent her from meeting whoever this guy was. To go back when her wants for the future shifted, and be here to remind her that I had always wanted to be her forever.

“Hey, rock star.”

My steps slowed, and eyes narrowed over the tips of my fingers to find the owner of that voice.

I dropped my hands, my arms falling heavily to my sides when I found Libby’s brother and friends sitting at a table outside a coffee shop.

“Glad I got to see this look,” Einstein continued. “Told you I rooted for you from the beginning.”

“What look?” I asked, exhaustion weighing down my words.

“The I-fucked-up-so-hard look.”

I lifted my hands, only to let them fall again. A breath of a laugh escaped me, but there was no humor behind it. “I’ve told her our entire lives that I wanted to marry her. I’ve told her that I was going to. She’s told me she didn’t want that. How the hell is any of this my fault?”

“Never mind. He still doesn’t get it,” she muttered and quickly drummed her fingers on the table. Each drum bringing her hand closer to where there was a pile of cell phones in the middle.

“Apparently not,” I mumbled.

“Leave it,” Dare snapped at her, then looked to me. “You talked to her?”

I just looked at him, letting my expression answer for me.

“You fucked up the minute you got someone pregnant.”

“Jesus,” I said on a groan.

Einstein laughed, then looked at Dare with surprise. “Wait . . . you’re serious? Is that really why you’re all mad at him?” When no one answered, she said, “Sometimes I hate being the only smart one.”

“Again . . . the media lies.”

“That’s not Maxon’s baby. It was never a question of it was his baby.” Einstein’s revelation was said with a hint of annoyance as she kicked a chair out in my direction. She waited until I dropped into it before grumbling, “It really didn’t take being a genius to figure that out.”

Everyone except Einstein was staring at me, their expressions ranging from shame to confusion.

I ran my hands through my hair as I explained, “Libby knows that. I called her and left messages explaining what was happening—who that girl is.”

Dare’s head snapped to Einstein. “Why the hell have you been mad? Why did you think we were?”

“Because Libby shut Maxon out and he let her. And like I’ve been saying, I rooted for him.” She glanced at me with a careful expression. “And I wouldn’t say Libby knows. She ignored every call and deleted every message without reading or listening to it. She won’t let anyone talk about you—including me. After that first month, I was sure any day you’d show up here, but you never did. Six months?” She scoffed. “Figured you were too stupid to realize you’d lost her or you didn’t care.”

I’d thought these six months were impossible to get through.

I’d thought it was hard to breathe earlier when Libby didn’t turn up before the show and then flipped me off and turned from me.

But nothing compared to the excruciating pain since she’d told me she was engaged.

Nothing compared to the weight on my chest, making every breath a struggle, knowing I might’ve been able to prevent this.

“I didn’t know . . .” I shook my head and rubbed at my empty, aching chest. “I’d always told her not to trust the media. I told her what was happening. I thought she knew . . . I didn’t realize she was ghosting me until it was too late. We’d been so slammed prepping for the tour, and then the tour was busier than ever. I just kept thinking I’d see her at the end and everything would be right again.” I swallowed thickly and choked out a laugh. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Idiot,” Einstein mumbled.

“She’s engaged, how the hell do I compete with that?”

From the utter silence and stunned looks from every person at that table with me, I knew I was missing something.

“The fuck did you just say?” Dare asked, his tone low and threatening.

“She’s engaged . . .”

Once again, Dare’s head snapped in Einstein’s direction, but she just burst out laughing and dug through her bag before tossing a set of keys at me. “I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that Libby hasn’t even looked at another man that way since your supposed daddy status made headlines, and she sure as shit isn’t engaged. I’m also positive she won’t let you in the door, but I’m still rooting for you, so . . .” Cupping a hand around her mouth, she mock-whispered, “My car’s the red one.”

My hand fisted around the keys and my chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “She’s not engaged?” I asked slowly.

“She better not be,” Dare bit out.

Einstein rolled her eyes and ignored him. “You tell us. In all the years I’ve known her, she’s only ever mentioned marrying one guy . . . and he’s sitting at this table instead of going to fix things with her.”

“She better not be,” Dare repeated through clenched teeth, earning a smack on his arm from his wife.

I was going to shake that damn girl.

I was going to shake her and yell at her. Then I was going to kiss her and spend the next few days buried inside her. And, yeah, I was going to fucking marry her.

I looked at Dare, my head shaking subtly. “You know me. You’ve known me our whole lives. No one can or will take better care of her than me.” I stood from the chair and took a few steps back. “She might not be engaged now, but one day she will. And it’ll be to me.”