Not So Loved (West Coast Campus Book 2)

Chapter 8

Maeve

Who left the fucking curtains open?

Why is my head pounding so hard I can feel it in my boob?

Groaning, I roll over, my body feeling like a fucking brick it's so heavy, my arms flapping over my head as I roll onto a very hard, very warm body.

Gulping, I realize it's not Liam.

My eyes widen and I joult back so far I almost fall off the foot of the bed.

I wrap the comforter around my flaming body, pyjamas I do not remember putting on hanging comfortably off me.

"Does my morning wood scare you that much?"

He mumbles, sitting up slowly, shirtless, his eyes still closed.

"Why the hell do you have a log hanging off you at seven in the morning?"

He throws his head back, groaning and all I want to do is go over there and lick his adams apple that bobbles before his eyes meet mine.

"It's only seven? We have plenty of time for you to help me out with the log..."

He grins, eyebrows wagging as he points downwards.

"Shut the fuck up, Rhys."

"Shutting up, Nova." He mimics zipping his mouth, throwing the fucking key right at me.

He grins at me, the room feeling very small all of a sudden.

Swallowing, I narrow my eyes on his naked chest and the sweatpants he was wearing yesterday that hang low on his hips.

"Where the hell is your shirt?"

He shrugs, throwing his legs off the side of the bed before sauntering around like he owns the place.

"I got hot in the middle of the night since you kept nuzzling your way under my arm."

My mouth falls open, gaping before I snap it shut. "No, I wasn't. I would never do that, even asleep."

He lets out a laugh before sobering up, his eyes flaming.

"Mhm. Then we must have different memories of what happened."

I freeze, my body locking in place.

I don't remember anything from last night but I think I would remember that.

"Did we have-" I break off, swallowing before whispering, "-Sex?"

All the amusement that was sitting on his face just moments ago falls off his face.

"No. I wouldn't do that while you're drunk. When we have sex, and I know we will, you'll be begging for it."

"I'll do that right after I get your name tattooed on my fucking ass." I drawl sarcastically, my face blank.

His dimpled smile appears on his face again, his eyes lighting up like they were before.

"Can I be your artist?" He muses.

"You can be the one to kiss it goodbye when I leave you all hot and bothered."

He crosses his arms over his toned chest, his disheveled hair falling over his eyes just slightly.

"Who says I'm not hot and bothered right now?" He bites.

I roll my eyes, moving towards the bathroom and slamming the door behind.

God, how fucking dumb am I to let him in here?

In my bed?

But do I regret it?

That's the question of the fucking century.

I shower and get dressed, sweats and a purple crew neck swaying as I walk into the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey, Ava." I nod at her where she sits at the counter, chatting with Rhys as he flips pancakes like they're old friends.

She smiles back. "When do you have to go get Liam?"

Rhys stops flipping the pancakes, looking between the two of us, clear confusion on his face at the mention of my younger brother.

"Probably an hour and then I was going to take him to hockey."

Of course my brother would choose hockey of all sports he enjoys.

Men.

Rhys perks up at the mention of the sport, about to open his big flytrap before Ava interrupts him.

"Rhys was telling me that you've known each other since you were five. I didn't know that. You told me he was just an ex."

Hurt is visible on her face as she slumps in her seat, tilting her head at me in question.

I sigh, not even bothering to acknowledge Rhys in the room.

"Didn't think it was important." I shrug, taking a seat beside her.

Rhys's lips turn into a small line, his eyebrows turning downward as his expression falls with them.

It was important.

He was so important.

I had one fucking person in my life who cared if I drowned or not.

Who cared if I resurfaced.

So after countless times of us throwing in the lifeline after each other, he wasn't there when I drowned the most.

"What happened to wanting to shove a hockey stick up his ass?"

Ava shuffles uncomfortably in her seat, clearly not remembering what she had told me weeks before.

"Oh, yeah." She points a stern finger his way. "You fucking hurt her again and you won't live to see yourself in the NHL. You'll be too paralyzed to even talk."

Rhys snorts because we both know with the way Ava is trying to hold in her laugh that she's not serious.

"But seriously, don't leave. She needs someone. And unfortunately that someone isn't me." Ava leans over, whispering, thinking she's being sneaky but I can hear her loud and clear.

Rhys swallows, his chocolate eyes locking onto mine, waves of emotions swimming on his face.

"I'm not leaving. Not again."

Those five words are the loudest words I've ever heard in my life.