"I'll buy your cookies anytime," he replies.

Ew.

I turn around and pull Valerie into the living room. We're soon joined by other girls from the team and as we stand in our own cl.u.s.ter, sipping our drinks and chatting, I start to loosen up. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. I'm actually starting to enjoy myself.

And then the front door opens and Zack walks in. Snow falls from his shoulders and hair as he nods a greeting to some of the guys he knows. My mouth falls open and laughter bubbles out when I realize he's dressed as Jimmy MacElroy from Blades of Glory. Cla.s.sic.

Zack looks up and his eyes meet mine, his lips part, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.

All I can do is stare back.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Zack

I approach her slowly, taking in her short skirt, the white b.u.t.ton-down she has tied in a knot just above her belly b.u.t.ton, the sash of pins crossing in between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her dark eyes shine brilliantly and her soft lips curl into a smile at the sight of me. The angry and damaged Maura seems to transform before my eyes into an endearing, almost shy version that has parts of me melting.

"Hi," she says softly, holding out her Solo cup to tap it gently against mine. "Happy Halloween."

"Happy Halloween, Maura." I take a swig of my beer.

She snorts appreciatively as she looks me up and down. "I like your costume."

I laugh. "I thought you might. D'Arco is heartbroken that no one bought into his idea to be minions."

Maura chuckles, low and husky. My hands clench in response. "You look good in shiny." She continues, turning toward me and pinching the material of my outrageously bright green spandex leotard at the wrist.

"Come on now, I look good in everything." I raise my eyebrows at her, daring her to contradict.

Maura throws her head back and laughs, her long hair skimming the small of her back. Her laugh is uninhibited, open, genuine. And she looks so carefree, I wish I could snap a photo and freeze this moment in time to always remember her like this.

"Truth," she says finally, wiping the back of her fingers across her eye. "What are you doing here anyway?"

I shrug. "Phillips is friends with some of the guys on your rowing team. One of them is in this frat so ..." I wasn't planning on coming to this party but Philips asked and with Marissa dressed as Betty freaking Crocker, I took pity on him. At the time it didn't even cross my mind that Maura may be present. Now I'm grateful as all h.e.l.l to Philips for extending the invite. This night is already exceeding my expectations.

She nods in understanding. "I wasn't going to come tonight but Valerie..." she nods in the direction of Tinkerbell dropping it low on the dance floor "...asked me to, and I don't really want to burn any more bridges on my team."

I snort. "Smart thinking."

She punches me lightly in the arm. "Be nice. I was p.i.s.sed and venting the other day," she says, mentioning the morning we ate an absurd amount of pancakes.

"Oh, trust me, I know."

She laughs again. The sound warms parts of my soul as some of the guilt over destroying her lessens. I wish she could always be this version of herself, not just around me but with everyone. Tonight she reminds me of the old Maura I would catch glimpses of when I went home with Adrian for a holiday or saw her at a crew party. The only thing that's changed is the way she looks at me now, notices me, spends time talking and laughing with me.

Something deep in my gut clenches as I remember that she'd look at me with pure hatred if she ever knew the truth. That thought has really been eating at me lately. She looks at me as someone she can trust, as Adrian's best friend, his brother. But she'll never look at me again if she learns that I knew the truth about Adrian's addiction and didn't do anything to help him and h.e.l.l, that it was my prescription that got him hooked in the first place.

No. She can never find out.

That's something that can never happen.

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

Maura

I chat with Zack until Marcus calls him over to the kitchen to shotgun beers. At that point Valerie pulls me out to the makeshift dance floor, hustling me between the drunk bodies of a swaying Dracula and a group of Playboy bunnies.

Dancing with Valerie reminds me of old times. Suddenly I'm transported back in time to previous Halloween bashes, Christmas parties, New Year's Eve countdowns. Mia, Emma, Lila, and I always celebrated the festivities together. Emma and Lila go all out: crazy costumes or themed outfits, wild hair, fun makeup, water bottles filled with vodka, a selfie obsession. Mia and I always hang back a bit, dress more conservatively, avoid drinking except for the occasional gla.s.s of wine, tone down our makeup. Ha! If only Emma and Lila could see me now. h.e.l.l, if only Mia, with her blushing cheeks and sparkling eyes, could see me now. What would they think?

Valerie stumbles into my shoulder and throws her arms around my neck. "I miss you, Maura! I know you've been having all sorts of fun and wild nights without me this semester, but, really, you should invite me with you sometime! We only get a few short months to live it up before the season starts. And now Kay has us all on a short leash." She gives me a knowing look.

I laugh. "Okay, Val."

"Let's do some shots!" she suggests, her eyes lightening.

"Done!"

We walk over to the makeshift bar, and Val leans forward to the frat guy playing bartender. He laughs at whatever she says and nods, pouring four shots of vodka.

"Bottoms up!" Val yells, holding her shot up to mine.

"Cheers!" I reply, throwing back the clear liquid that burns my throat and warms my stomach.

"Again!"

"Cheers!"

The second shot goes down smoother than the first.

"And now, we dance!"

I giggle, actually freaking giggle, and allow Valerie to lead me back to the dance floor. I forgot that she's always been such a good friend. She's sweet and generous and a lot of fun to hang out with. All the girls on my team are. It dawns on me how far I've left myself drift from the rest of them. The entire time I was blaming them for being too serious, too committed, too obsessed with rowing. Acting like they're part of some ridiculous cult. When really I'm the one who changed, who couldn't see past my own grief to give them the chance to be there for me. I shut everyone out, and then I wallowed in the loneliness of it all.

But now I'm out, shaking my hips and swaying my arms, laughing and colliding with Val. And I know Zack's eyes are watching my every move. And it feels good, it even feels right, to be bonding with an old friend and being admired by the guy I want to want me just as much as I desire him.

He's Adrian's best friend. He doesn't think of you that way. I have to keep reminding myself, because right now, with alcohol coursing through my veins, a buzz working its way up my spine, and his eyes watching me with obvious appreciation, I want to end my night in his arms, consumed by his kiss.

Hours pa.s.s slowly like days and quickly like seconds. I'm lost to the moment. Of being back with the team, Valerie laughing as she tugs on my arm, Amanda convincing us all more shots are necessary, Amber's hysterical dance moves. The music beats on, the alcohol flows freely, someone announces that the keg is kicked. And still, we dance.

Costumes transform as makeup is erased by sloppy kisses and bits of fabric are shed as the night progresses. Someone orders a crazy amount of pizzas, and we descend on the boxes like vultures.

I'm on my second slice, pieces of pepperoni sticking to the roof of my mouth, when I notice that Zack seems to have left. A pang of disappointment aches in my chest. He didn't even say goodbye. He didn't say anything.

He's just a friend, Maura. Adrian's friend.

But still, wouldn't a friend say bye before leaving?

I'm chewing my slice pondering this over when someone b.u.mps into my shoulder playfully.

"Watch it," I say as I turn toward the body now blocking my path. And when I look up, I stare into the unfathomably deep, cerulean blue eyes of Zackary Huntington.

"Hey," he says casually.

"Hi," I reply, swallowing the last bite of my pizza and wiping my greasy hands on Lila's skirt.

"I'm heading out."

"Oh, okay." I try to keep my voice neutral, but even I hear the disappointment that colors my tone.

"How are you getting home?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

"Huh?" I shrug. "I don't know. Probably walking."

"What? No. You can't walk back to your dorm alone at this time. It's nearly 3:00 AM. Plus, it's practically blizzarding outside."

"Blizzarding?" I raise an eyebrow. "Is that even a word?"

He shrugs, smirking at me. "It's snowing really hard."

"I'll be fine." I place my hand on his bicep to rea.s.sure him. Then I feel the swell of his muscle, the warmth of his skin through his hilarious leotard, and I let my hand linger.

He shakes his head resolutely. "No. I'll make sure you get home. Philips!" he calls to Marcus over my head. Zack leans down to whisper in my ear. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

I nod but he's already gone, off to talk to Marcus.

I turn toward my friends and notice that Valerie and Amber looking at me strangely, as if they can't figure out why I was talking to Zack. To halt the questions that I know are burning on the tips of their tongues, I ask, "Shots?" And when they both cheer, I know I've distracted them.

It isn't until later, with Zack hovering nearby, that I realize he's stayed behind even though Philips' left. He's stayed behind to keep an eye on me, to make sure I get home okay, to be here for me.

My heart warms at the idea, and I giggle to myself as I sip on my fourth beer. Maybe he'll come back to the dorm with me, and I can convince him to spend the night? Get lost with him for a while. But then I remember that Zack and I, we're friends. Just friends. That's all we'll ever be.

Friends that are playing a stupid and dangerous game.

A game where someone is going to get hurt.

And I don't know if my heart can handle any more hurt these days.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Zack

The party is still going strong when Marissa decides to call it a night, dragging Philips home with her. I'm about to head out with them when I realize that Maura is drunk. Really drunk. And doesn't have a way home. No way am I letting her stay here solo, stumbling home in the dark all alone, or worse: stumbling home under the arm of another guy. Plus, the snow is picking up and the ground is already covered. It would be tough to maneuver a path home sober, never mind when you're already sloshed.

So I stay at the party to keep an eye on Maura. And now I'm just enjoying watching her dance, laugh, and interact with her friends in the center of the dance floor. It's shocking, really, but I could stand here and watch the emotions flit over her face for hours. Now that she's unaware that I'm watching her, she's allowing herself to be carefree, uninhibited, beautiful. And I don't want to miss a minute of it.

It's almost 4:00 AM when Maura and her girls decide to call it a night. They're all drunk, laughing, rowdy b.a.l.l.s of energy still riding a high of being together and bonding off the river. And I get it. The need to connect with your team, to live up the rare few nights when you're all out, partying together. They don't have practice in the morning, and they are definitely taking advantage of it. I let her take her time saying goodbye to them, waving and hugging and giggling the entire time, until I wrap my arm around her shoulder and tuck her into my side for the walk back to her dorm.

It's freezing outside and each breath we exhale marks the air with steam, like a little sound bubble in a cartoon. I hug Maura closer, amazed that she's not complaining about hypothermia with her bare legs and fleece. Our footsteps crunch the snow beneath our boots, and I guide her slowly, afraid she may fall on a patch of ice. A half a block in and I realize how ridiculous we must look: me, in green spandex and a blond wig; her, in a tiny skirt and a sash full of rowing pins; the two of us stumbling over tiny mounds of snow, stepping in the footsteps of the strangers who've crossed the path before us, laughing out white clouds of air. It's almost like being in high school all over again, the innocence of the moment, oblivious to the weather conditions, walking home with a girl, dressed in hilarious Halloween costumes, hoping she lets me kiss her goodnight at her door.

"I can't believe how much it's snowing." She laughs, looking up at the sky. Snowflakes tumble through her hair, across her the bridge of her nose, dotting her cheeks like freckles.

"This is crazy," I agree. "Must be some kind of a record. I don't ever remember it snowing this early."

She nods. "Maybe it means we're going to have a white Christmas."

"Maybe."

"Thanks for being my walking chauffeur," she tells me, looking up at me through her dark eyes that seem to shine and burn all at once. "This is really nice of you."