London Falling. Chanel Cleeton

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      The song ended, but I didn’t release her. Another song started up and I couldn’t resist keeping her in my arms, maneuvering her out of sight of our friends. I was stealing time with her, minute by minute, trying to borrow a future we could never have.

      “I didn’t see much of you this week.” I didn’t add the rest of it—I missed you.

      For a moment, she looked embarrassed. Then she shrugged. Did she know how often she did that now? My lips twitched. Somehow she seemed to have picked up my shrug.

      “I was kind of avoiding you.”

      “Avoiding me?”

      She nodded.

      “I thought we were doing the friends thing.”

      She met my gaze and held it for a moment. “I don’t know how to be your friend.”

      “We were friends before...” I thought of all the times we’d kissed, from that first night at Babel to our trip to Italy. I thought about our “kissing lessons” and playing strip rummy in Paris. Of all the times I’d wanted her, all the times I’d been desperate to have her. Okay, so we’d been friends who kissed. I might have wanted her in my bed from the beginning, but still, I hadn’t acted on it. That had to count for something. “Sort of,” I finished up lamely.

      Her lips quirked. “Sort of.”

      Those two words perfectly summed up the ambiguity of our relationship...or whatever it was.

      “I want to be your friend.” Besides Fleur—and she didn’t totally count, since she was family—I didn’t exactly have female friends. But I wanted to be friends with Maggie. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was better than the alternative. “Can we start over?”

      She sighed. “What is this, like our fourth fresh start?”

      “Maybe.”

      “What did you have in mind?”

      “I have no clue.”

      “Me, either. But it doesn’t seem like it should be this hard.”

      I knew what she meant. “Fine. Let’s not let it be hard then. Let’s act like everything is normal between us. Like things are the way they used to be.”

      Let’s pretend.

      “How are your classes?” I asked her.

      “Good. Yours?”

      “Boring.” I flashed her a grin, unable to resist. “You look beautiful tonight.”

      She blushed, and my heartbeat sped up. “I don’t think friends are supposed to say things like that.”

      “You mean Fleur didn’t tell you that you looked good tonight?”

      Maggie considered this. “Actually, Fleur told me I looked fucking hot.”

      “Well, she’s right, but beautiful seemed friendlier.” I winked at her. “See? Trying.”

      “I thought you didn’t do that.”

      “Do what?”

      “Try.”

      “If you think that, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

      She shook her head. “What are we doing here?”

      “Not fucking?”

      That startled a laugh out of her. I’d missed hearing her laugh. “Has anyone told you you’re kind of impossible?”

      “Yes. You. All the time.”

      “That’s because you drive me nuts.”

      “I know. But you like it. A lot. You can’t resist my charm.” I was determined to tease whatever awkwardness lingered between us out of her. Even if the teasing bordered on flirting.

      “You’re not nearly as charming as you think.”

      “Maybe not, but you like it.”

      “Maybe I do.” She shook her head, resignation filling her eyes. “This is so fucked up.”

      It was, but it was also us. I’d take it any way I could get it. I’d take her any way I could get her.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      Maggie

      “ARE WE GOING to talk about it?” Mya asked, looking up from her dinner.

      “Talk about what?”

      “Last night. You and Samir.”

      “What about me and Samir?”

      “You guys have been weird ever since this semester started. Half the time you won’t look at him, and he looks at you like you’re a tall glass of water and he’s dying of thirst.”

      “That’s ridiculous.” I struggled to not to react even as her words sent a funny thrill through me. “That’s just how Samir is. You know that.”

      “Come on. He didn’t talk or dance with one girl last night. Hell, he didn’t even check anyone out.”

      “He has a girlfriend.”

      I hated forcing the word from my lips, but it seemed important to say it, to remember it.

      “Yeah, like that’s stopped him before.”

      “There’s nothing between me and Samir.”

      “You sure about that?”

      “Yes.”

      She looked totally unconvinced. There was only one way this could get worse. “You haven’t said anything to Fleur, have you? About your suspicions?”

      Mya shook her head.

      “Please don’t. There’s nothing going on.” Anymore. “I swear.”

      The last thing I needed was for Fleur to think I was somehow involved with her cousin. I wasn’t sure if she’d be pissed or feel sorry for me. Probably a combination of both.

      “I won’t. Just promise that if you ever need to talk, you’ll tell me.”

      “I promise.”

      “Promise what?” Fleur slid into the seat next to me, a tray of food in hand.

      I flushed. “Nothing important. How’s your day going?”

      “Good. By the way, George is going to sit with us.”

      “Seriously?”

      “I

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