Page 28 of The Mistletoe Bluff
But Oliver wasn’t looking at me like that. I couldn’t quite place the emotion swimming in his eyes.
“I get them too,” he admitted.
Understanding. That’s what it was.
Shock snapped through me like lightning. Oliver Lewis always appeared so cool, calm, and collected on the outside. I never would have pegged him as someone who struggled with anxiety. Although, most people would have said the same thing about me. Big, loud Maya, remember? Only the big pieces, none of the vulnerable, struggling parts.
“Really?” I asked, looking down at my hands. It wasn’t quite shame flowing through me, but something like it.
A finger touched my chin, lifting it up so I met his gaze.
“Really. I’m sorry you deal with it too.”
We were in dangerous territory now. If I didn’t get out of this car, I was going to bare my soul to my enemy, and Oliver Lewis would see Maya Beck break down into tears.
I sniffled, blinking against the burning in my eyes. His fingers grabbed my hand as I turned to climb out. I cringed at how sweaty mine were, knowing he must think I was repulsive, but he squeezed harder.
“I know you don’t like me, Maya, but I’m here…if you ever need to talk.”
The words were like ice numbing a burn, soothing the anxious pit my stomach was. How did this man know exactly what to say? How did he both calm me and make my heart race?
A single tear slipped from my eye, and I cursed beneath my breath.
Oliver swiped his thumb across my cheek, erasing the evidence that I was breaking apart in his presence.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Maya.”
And with those words, every wall I had ever built around my heart tripled in size. Cement block after cement block encased all of me. I pulled from his grip and climbed out of his Jeep.
“Pretending is the only way to survive, Oliver.”
Oliver
Pretending is the only way to survive.
Maya’s words haunted me for the rest of the day. I hated that she felt that way, and that it forced her to keep her walls up around me. I tried to shove the thoughts away, but they kept circling back.
I was grateful for my break from work, and subsequently my father, but I didn’t account for the boredom I’d experience not having anything to do. Since I traveled back and forth from England, I didn’t have many friends in Meridel. And, if I was honest, without photography, I wasn’t sure who I was or what I was good at. I thought about trying a new hobby, but that didn’t feel right either.
Which was why I had nothing better to do than to sit in Dina’s parking lot for the last hour of Maya’s shift, waiting to drive her home. My fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against the steering wheel, my eyes glancing at the clock on my dashboard every few minutes, watching it drag toward six o’clock.
Truthfully, I didn’t mind acting as Maya’s chauffeur. It gave me something to do while I wasn’t working, and it let me spend more time with her. The more I saw her, the more desperate I was for her, like a dehydrated person was for water.
A couple minutes before the end of her shift, a car pulled into the spot next to mine. The driver was singing along to muffled rock music emanating through the closed windows. She looked vaguely familiar. Where had I seen her before?
She went inside Dina’s and emerged a minute later, arm-in-arm with Maya. Then it hit me. She was the girl from Maya’s stranger photoshoot last year.
A memory flashed through my mind of when Maya had presented her photoshoot to the class. Not only were the pictures brilliant and full of life, capturing both the light and landscape, but the absolute joy on her face as she showed off the photos—it had taken my breath away. That was the first moment I knew my crush was more thanjusta crush.
Instead of heading toward my Jeep, Maya didn’t even spare me a glance before following her friend. Sudden panic surged in my gut. Had I missed something?
I fished my phone out of my pocket to double check if I had a text from Maya explaining why she wasn’t crawling inside my Jeep, filling the car with her fruity perfume that I was becoming addicted to.
The screen on my phone was blank and I made a quick decision to hightail it out of my car.
“Maya,” I called, and she froze, her shoulders rising to her ears.
Her friend cocked her head as she looked first at me and then Maya.
