Chapter 19

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Maybe You

Briar Prescott

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NINETEEN

We take the subway back to Brooklyn, then walk. And with every street, Sutton becomes quieter.

His eyes move over the rows of buildings on either side of us. I’ve always liked how green Prospect Heights is. There are so many trees on the streets, which makes the whole neighborhood seem more inviting somehow. I’ve always loved it, and I’m very aware that without Remy and Jordan, I’d never be able to afford living here. I don’t even pay rent, just contribute to utilities and things like that, but it’s peanuts considering what most places cost around these parts.

“It’s just around the corner,” I say.

Somehow, Sutton gets even quieter, which is a real feat seeing that he hasn’t really said a word since we got off the subway.

A minute later, I stop in front of Remy’s townhouse.

Sutton stares at the place and doesn’t move a muscle, like some sort of extremely handsome statue. He must really be exhausted.

When I put my hand on his shoulder, he jerks in surprise, then blinks at me rapidly like I’ve just woken him up.

“Whoa.” I laugh.

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry.” He glances at the house again before rubbing his palm over his face. “I’m fucking beat.” He pauses a second, before continuing on. “So this is where you live,” he says, sounding a bit more like himself again.

I nod and go up the stairs. I’ve already opened the door when I realize he’s not behind me anymore. I glance over my shoulder.

“Coming?” I ask.

The guy slowly thaws from his frozen state.

“Yeah,” he says, and starts to move.

I let him in before me, and we toe off our shoes in the hallway.

“I’m home,” I call out.

“Kitchen,” Jordan bellows from the back of the house.

I find Jordan by the counter, tossing a salad, Theo stirring something at the stove, and Remy setting the table.

“Am I allowed back inside?” I ask.

“On a trial basis.” Jordan doesn’t look up from his task. “But the moment I see you trying to dust anything you’re out again.”

“Deal,” I say. “Do we have room for one more?”

They all look up at once, which is kind of an obvious sign that I’m so much of a friendless loser that they all have to stare like I’ve just announced I’m joining a nudist colony.

“This is Sutton,” I say.

They stare.

In all fairness, props to Theo. He waves and goes back to his stirring, but Remy and Jordan stare .

Sutton steps farther into the room and extends his hand toward Remy.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

“Yes,” Remy says slowly. “Nice to meet you.”

The exact same song and dance repeats almost verbatim with Jordan.

Then, silence.

And more staring.

Fuck’s sake.

I know I’ve never really had a friend over, but do we have to make such a big deal out of it? And on the same note, do we have to stare at Sutton like it’s somehow suspicious that he’s here?

I take a deep breath and paste a wide smile on my face. Somebody has to act normal here.

“What are we having?” I ask.

Remy seems to gather himself first.

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” he says. “Sit down, sit down. It’ll only be a few more minutes.”

We go and wash our hands, and a little while later, we’re all sitting around the table by the window.

“Food,” Theo moans, reaching for the bowl of spaghetti. “I’m starving.”

Jordan rushes to grab the bowl first.

“Hey!” Theo protests.

“If you go first, the rest of us will only have scraps left,” I say.

“Slander,” Theo says, but he sits back and waits patiently until the bowl makes its way back to him.

For a little while, the only sounds are people passing around bowls and plates before we all settle into our seats. I was worried the awkwardness would continue, but mostly, it’s dinner as usual, with everybody talking about their day with some teasing and mild jabs added to the mix.

Sutton seems happy just listening, and he relaxes slowly as the evening wears on.

We’re almost done with food when Jordan sets his sights on Sutton.

“So, Sutton,” he says with the worst attempt at casualness I’ve ever witnessed. “How do you know Wren?”

Sutton takes a slow sip of water and places the glass back down with measured movements.

“We met at the pool.”

Jordan nods. “You work there, too?”

“No,” Sutton says.

“He just breaks in every now and then.” I start gathering up the plates.

“Technically only once,” Sutton says, and he gets up too, to help with the cleanup.

“Is that the official story?” I ask.

“If you never saw it happen, did it even happen?”

I press my hand to my chest and give an exaggerated sigh. “Wow. You’re so deep.”

He looks up from where he’s putting the glasses on the counter and grins at me, and when I turn back toward the table, I find Remy and Jordan eyeing me with varying degrees of something that looks suspiciously like caution.

I’m really not sure why.

“So, Sutton,” Jordan says. “Tell us about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Sutton says.

Jordan waves him off. “I’m sure there is. For instance, what do you do for a living?”

“I don’t have a job,” Sutton says. By now, I can read him well enough that I know there’s a part of him that enjoys creating that moment of awkwardness.

It does give Jordan pause for a moment. But only for a moment.

“Any hobbies?” he continues.

Sutton holds his gaze calmly. “None that should be mentioned in polite company.”

“Have you always lived in New York?” Jordan asks.

“Yes,” Sutton says.

“A native, huh? Your family is from around here too, then?”

Sutton pauses for a second before he says, “Yes.” It comes out tightly, though.

I frown at Jordan. This small talk is starting to sound a whole lot like a bad cop interrogating a witness. Not even because of the topics covered. Those are pretty mundane get-to-know-you questions, but they’re delivered with a grim determination that starts to feel a bit hostile after a while.

I’m not the only one who seems to think that, because Remy sends Jordan a look and gets up.

“I see the cleanup crew is up to the task, so we can probably leave you to it. Jordan, if you’re free, I need some help at the workshop.”

Jordan sends Sutton one last frown but follows Remy. Theo sneaks out after them, clearly afraid he’s going to be roped into doing the dishes or something equally horrible if he stays around.

It’s a bit unexpected. Jordan and Remy are usually both great with Theo’s friends, so I don’t really know what the hell this weird attempt at small talk was.

I hand Sutton a clean towel and do the dishes while he dries. The earlier awkwardness left with Remy and Jordan, so now it’s just the two of us in comfortable silence.

Once we’re done, I dry my hands and turn around. Sutton is leaning against the counter opposite, drying the last few plates and eyeing me thoughtfully.

“What?” I ask.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again before he shakes his head. Sutton puts the last plate down and spends a few moments methodically drying his hands before he meets my gaze again.

He feels strangely distant all of a sudden.

I don’t like it.

“Want to come upstairs?” I blurt. “To my room.”

He’s still looking at me like he’s searching for something, but eventually he nods. He follows me up the stairs, and once we’re inside my room, I close the door behind us.

“Home, sweet home.” I look around and Sutton follows suit.

There’s not much to see. It’s a room with a bed, a desk, and a dresser in it. The walls are dark gray and simple white. There’s no clutter because I don’t like it, but the desk is a bit of a mess, with textbooks in piles, a laptop with its lid open, and papers with notes scribbled all over them strewn around.

Sutton takes it all in before he turns around and faces me again.

“So this is where you live,” he says.

I nod and scrunch my nose in an apologetic grimace. “Sorry about the interrogation. Jordan has an unnecessary overprotective-big-brother mode that sometimes gets triggered for no reason at all.”

“I thought you said you only had a sister and your mom?”

“I do. We’re not related. Jordan, Remy, and I aren’t related, I mean. Theo’s my nephew.”

Sutton tilts his head to the side in question before he goes and sits down on the edge of my bed.

“My sister, Kira, and Jordan basically grew up together.” I sit down next to Sutton. “They met in first grade and were attached at the hip pretty much from the start. Childhood sweethearts.”

“But your sister doesn’t live here?”

I shake my head. “Kira’s always been a high achiever. She was really smart when she was still in school, and she’s really smart now. She was always ambitious, and still is. She and Jordan had Theo when they were both fifteen.”

Sutton lets out a low whistle.

“Not ideal,” he concludes.

I laugh. “Not really, no. Jordan dropped out of school so Kira could go, but then… Well, one of them was a high school student, and the other one was, by then, practically a single dad, and Kira slowly started living this whole different life. And then she got accepted to Stanford. Free ride to her dream school. She was dead set on going. Jordan was dead set on staying. I don’t know all the details of what went down or what was said, but in the end, Kira went to San Francisco and Jordan and Theo stayed here.”

Sutton mulls that over for a bit before he asks, “And how did you end up here?”

“We were all living in our old apartment,” I say. “Me and Kira and Jordan and Theo. And once Kira said she was leaving, Jordan and Theo moved in with Remy again, and I was going to stay in our old apartment because I figured it’d be cool to be independent and all… And then the place burned down.”

Sutton doesn’t say anything. Just lies down and tugs me down next to him.

At first, we’re just lying side by side. Not even touching. But then he pushes his arm underneath me and pulls me flush against him, and my heart jumps and goes haywire because this feels… more. This doesn’t feel like I’m-just-here-because-I-want-to-fuck-you.

“Remy took me in after I got out of the hospital. My mom was living in LA by then, and she couldn’t come back because of her job, but my whole life was here, and I like New York. Plus, LA is hot and dry and sunny, which wasn’t ideal even if I had wanted to move. Anyway, Jordan suggested that I stay with them, and Remy was more than happy with that too, so here I am.”

“They’re good people,” Sutton says.

“The best. Kind and selfless and…” I shrug. “I don’t know where I’d be without them. They’re family. More than my mother and Kira at this point.”

Sutton is silent again for a long while.

“Your sister is still in San Francisco?” he finally asks.

I nod, my head moving up and down against his shoulder. “Climbing the career ladder with inhuman speed. She’s happy. And she and Jordan and Theo are fine too, by now. She visits a few times a year, and Theo stays with her for school breaks and in the summer. She just got engaged a few months ago.”

He hums in reply and turns on his side. I follow the move, and then we’re almost nose-to-nose, lying on my bed.

Sutton lifts his hand, and his fingertips trace my cheek up to the side of my nose, then slide over my right eyebrow and temple.

I lean forward until our foreheads are touching, and I kiss him. It’s soft and slow. It grows a bit more intense, but never moves past the stage of just kissing.

We’re making out on my bed, and it’s somehow more intimate than all the times we’ve had sex.

We kiss until our lips turn red and sensitive, and I feel so languid I could melt into the bed. He pulls me closer, bodies flush together, my head nestled underneath his, nose pressed into his neck. My hand is on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart pounding against my palm. His breathing gets deeper and slower, and when I carefully lift my head, I see he’s asleep. He doesn’t even move when I roll myself away from him to go and brush my teeth and take a shower.

He’s still asleep when I pad back into the room.

I pull on a clean T-shirt and underwear and climb back into bed. He mumbles something incomprehensible and blinks his eyes open blearily.

“Fell asleep,” he mutters, rubbing at his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

“Stay,” I say softly.

He’s very still for a bit. Then he gets up.

I try to swallow down the bitter feeling of disappointment.

But then he flicks open the button on his jeans and pulls them off. Soon, he’s just in his underwear, and then he’s climbing into bed next to me.

Closer.

Until I’m wrapped in his arms again.

He kisses the top of my head, and he’s asleep almost immediately.

I stay up for a long, long time after.

Wide awake.

My brain is slowly churning out pieces of something . Spitting them out in front of me, a mess of bits and scraps that seem random at first. Images of Sutton laughing. Teasing comments. Jokes. Secrets.

My fingers in his hair.

His lips on mine.

Sitting on the stairs in front of the pool.

And talking.

Talking.

Telling him things I’ve never told anybody else.

Him opening up. Like lifting a sealed lid and having a peek inside.

And wanting more.

Becoming greedy.

Please, please, please give me more.

More of everything.

More talking and jokes and laughter and secrets. I’ll take them all. I’ll keep them for you. Give them to me. I’ll keep them safe.

By now my heartbeat has gotten wilder, an uncontrolled agent of chaos in my chest as I fit the pieces together this way and that.

A realization is dawning in my head. Slowly at first, and then all at once.

My heartbeat gets even wilder.

I swallow hard, throat dry, panic buzzing in my limbs.

I… I’d run if I could, but where the fuck would I even go?

There is nowhere I can hide from this.

Because I’ve gone and done the one thing I never, ever should have.

Fell.

Head over heels.

Slowly at first.

And then all at once.

My breathing is very loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Fuck.

Fuck!

How the fuck did I let this happen?

I roll onto my back and blink wildly at the darkness above me.

Sutton mumbles in his sleep and turns on his side. He throws his arm over my chest and burrows closer, his nose pressed against the side of my neck, soft breaths blowing over my skin.

This could be us.

The thought is quick and unbidden, and I try to push it away, but it digs its claws in and stubbornly stays put, so now I’m thinking of all those other could bes.

The talking and laughter and sex and everything.

But permanently.

For good.

It’s all so vivid for a moment that it makes me smile at the ceiling.

Just before reality crashes back in.

You can’t fall in love with me.

That was the one rule.

One rule.

And now here we are anyway.

Fucking, fucking, fuck!

I blow out a breath, slowly, through my teeth.

My thoughts slow down a bit and the panic settles into something more manageable.