Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.02

0.02 - Saturday 12:47 a.m.

Rhys Wyer

"I like it rough," Beverly growls in my ear. It's work not to roll my eyes. Instead I focus on kissing her, and keeping her hands away from my belt.

Her lips are soft and plush, but I feel like I'm kissing rubber, tasteless and boring.

Her hands roam towards my belt buckle and I grab at them again, placing them safely on my waist. Instantly Beverly whines and sits back. She's pouting playfully, but her eyes flash with annoyance.

"I'm going to get some water," she says, pushing off the bed and exiting my room. The moment she's gone, I exhale a sigh in relief, and pick up my phone.

Ten new messages. I frown, and unlock the screen.

I open the first, from my close friend Jules.

Jules: bro did u see this?

Attached is an image. I can tell it's Maverick right away, even though the image is dark and blurry. He's kissing someone, his mouth parted against hers, clearly enjoying it. For a second, I'm irritated that Jules bothered to send this to me, but then I see it.

Mav isn't kissing a girl. He's kissing a boy. And for some reason I know it's not a joke.

Beverly enters the room again, her blonde hair shining like a warning light. I scramble up from the bed.

"I have to go," I say.

"What? How am I supposed to get home?" Beverly asks. I open my closet and take out a jacket, shrugging it on.

"I don't know. Take an Uber," I suggest, even though I know I'm being a jerk. Beverly shakes her head.

"You're being ridiculous," Beverly says, "Where are you going right now anyways? It's almost one in the morning."

I walk towards the door, but before I leave, I turn towards Beverly. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. Promise." Beverly smiles and flutters her lashes in what she probably thinks is seductive.

"You better," Beverly purrs. She opens her mouth to say something else, so I turn and walk away before she can.

I grab my car keys on the kitchen counter and head downstairs to the garage. The car I got for my birthday—a black Range Rover—is parked inside hazardously.

I grab my phone as I get in the car and open up my chat with Mav.

me: Where are you

Maverick: Home. Why?

me: I'm coming over

I don't bother explaining, and I just drive, hoping that the familiar feel of the engine vibrating beneath my skin helps soothe my nerves. After fifteen minutes Maverick's house appears behind a large tree as I drive slowly up the climbing street. I park a few yards away and kill the ignition.

Maybe I shouldn't have come. I almost start the car again, but my chest tightens, and I know I won't be able to leave without finding out the truth. With a deep breath, I get out of the car and walk towards his house.

The white picket fence and the large, California Bungalow style house is as familiar to me as my own. I can still remember playing pirates on his front yard when we were younger. I lift up the mat on the porch, finding the key and letting myself in.

The entryway is dark, save for the dim lights coming from the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"Mav?" I shout.

"Rhys?" It's Maverick's mom, walking towards me in a bathrobe. She's used to my random visits, but it's still awkward seeing her in such casual attire with no makeup on. I wave awkwardly and she raises her eyebrows.

"Hey Mrs. Bale," I say, "Where's Mav?"

She smiles. "Up in his room."

I return the smile as best I can, then I head upstairs. When I reach his room, I knock on the door. I feel ridiculous knocking, especially since I've always just barged right in, but this time I stop myself.

"Come in," a muffled voice from inside the room calls out. I open the door slowly.

Maverick is lying down on his bed, facing the wall. His blonde hair is a mess, and he's still in the clothes from the photo.

"Mav," I say. Maverick twists around, running a hand down his face in surprise. He looks exhausted, and his eyes are a little red. I wonder if that was just from partying, or from crying.

"Oh Rhys, hey man. Sorry, I thought it was my mom," he says, his voice rough. I stand awkwardly by the door. Maverick's eyes flicker to where I'm standing and the bed. I know what he's thinking; usually I go straight to his bed, and we sit side by side. I never thought anything of it before, so why now?

Stupid question. We both know the answer.

"How was the party?" I ask. Maverick shrugs, like nothing abnormal happened.

"It was pretty boring," Maverick says.

"Was Lauren there?" I ask. Lauren is Maverick's close friend. I've known her for the same amount of time, but we never clicked like they did. I always thought that if Maverick were to date anyone, it would be her.

"No. Not many people from Hilltop there," Maverick said. His eyebrows stitch together. "Weren't you with Beverly?"

"She had to leave, so I came here," I say. And suddenly I realize that for the first time, I have something to hide from Mav, and he has something to hide from me.

"That's unfortunate," Maverick says quietly. He's always thought Beverly was an annoying, dumb blonde. We stare at each other for a few moments until Maverick's phone vibrates on his nightstand. He reaches over and plucks it off the desk, and when his eyes pass over the screen, his shoulders go rigid, and his mouth tightens into a tense line.

"What is it?" I ask, even though I know exactly what image he's looking at. Maverick looks up at me, his eyes widened in fear, before morphing his features into his typical lazy, nonchalant smile. That's when I realize he's not going to tell me.

"Nothing," he says, locking his phone and setting it back on the nightstand. His hands tremble as he plays with his fringe, but I pretend not to notice.

"Can I crash here tonight?" I ask, grasping for some sense of normalcy. Maverick seems to appreciate my attempt, and grins crookedly. Something in my chest loosens.

"I would grab the futon but it's in Rachel's room and I don't want to wake her up. I can sleep on the couch if you want, and you can sleep here," Maverick says, moving to get up.

"No it's fine. We can both sleep here," I say, keeping what I hope is a normal expression on my face. My movements still feel stiff as I walk towards the bed. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before; I've known Maverick since I was four, so it's always been normal sleeping on the same bed, and we've done it a million times. Then why am I freaking out?

"I think I'm just gonna sleep. Beverly honestly gave me a headache," I say, scooting to the left side, Maverick moving closer to the wall. There's some truth to that statement, but I say it more just to please Mav. In reality, I'm more awake now than I was with Beverly. He laughs like I new he would, a familiar short burst of boyish melody, and I smile involuntarily as I roll over on my side, turning my back towards Mav.

"Wake me up with a bucket of water and I will kill you," Maverick mutters, half asleep. I can hear his breathing start to steady. I nudge the covers higher over my torso, careful not to get too close to him by keeping my legs just next to the edge of the bed.

"Thanks for the idea," I joke quietly, even though I know he's already asleep.