Page 56 of How We Loved

I wake up and look at my phone, only to see Maya still hasn’t returned my phone calls or texts even though our message thread says she’s read them. I’m trying to give her the space she wants, but the way Trevor answered my phone call last night, then immediately hung up, got me so riled up that I almost punched a hole in my wall. Thankfully, my pillow took a beating instead.

I just worry about her. She’s so sweet and innocent. If anything, I’m realizing that maybe I’ve protected her too much. Yes, she’s heard us guys talk about girls in front of her, but we keep it tame when she’s around. She has no idea how guys really talk when in a locker room.

Everything is about tits and ass, and I don’t think she knows just how far guys will go to get their dick wet. Be it by lying or force, some guys will do anything when they want it that bad. I already know Trevor is that kind of guy, and I never want her to be in either situation—especially the latter.

I would literally kill anyone who touched her. There’s no doubt about that. I wouldn’t even feel guilty about it either. There are some things I think would be justified, and that would be one of them. I’d spend the rest of my life in jail, knowing I did right by her.

I promised she’d never know pain like she did when her mom died, and I fully intend to keep that promise to her for the rest of her life.

Since it’s early in the morning, I’m hoping she’s still in bed when I send her a text.

Hey. Can we talk?

She responds right away.

Sorry. Can’t. I’ll be there tomorrow though.

She can’t even talk to me? Why not?

I sigh, wondering if I should ask her those questions but decide against it. If she’d wanted to share, she would have. At least she finally responded this time and said she’s coming over tomorrow. Let’s see if she actually does.

Starting my day off annoyed for the sixth time this week, I throw my phone down on my bed and get up, wondering what I’m going to do with my day.

I head out to the kitchen, where my mom is already up and making breakfast.

“Morning, baby,” she says as she gives me a hug.

“Morning.” I hug her then go to get some juice out of the fridge.

“What are your plans today?” she asks.

“No clue.” I sigh.

“Where’s Maya?”

I think about it, then decide my mom’s probably the best person to talk to, so I open up to her. “I’m not sure what to do with Maya.”

She senses my concern, so she stops what she’s doing and gives me her full attention. “With what?”

“I don’t like this new guy she’s dating.”

Her eyebrows rise, and a tiny smirk grows on her face, but I instantly put a stop to what she’s thinking.

“It’s not like that. I’m not jealous. I’m worried.”

I take a seat at the counter that overlooks the stove, so she can go back to what she was doing while we talk.

“Worried about what?”

“There’s something about the guy that rubs me wrong.”

“I take it, she likes him though. Who is he?”

“That’s the problem. It’s a guy from Springstown that no one really knows. They met after our last football game.”

“You haven’t met him?”

“I have—that’s why I don’t like him.”

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