Not So Loved (West Coast Campus Series Book 2)

Chapter 2

Rhys - age 8

"Rhys! Stop throwing sand at me! It's getting in my eyes!"

I stifle my laugh as I watch Maeve's arms flap out in front of her, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she frantically wipes the sand I was throwing a few seconds ago away from her face.

The beach is empty, the rain scaring everyone off so that's why Maeve and I came down after school.

We walked around Stanley Park for a while before coming down here, Maeve wanting to see if there were any shells to collect.

I gather more wet sand in my hand, the ball I'm forming just slipping through my fingers before I throw it at Maeve, hitting her square in the shoulder.

"Rhys!" She cries, her hands dropping to her sides in frustrated fists.

I stop laughing at the sight, knowing she's now actually upset.

I wipe my hands on my pants before I walk the distance between us, wiping all the sand I can off of her.

She finally opens her eyes to look up at me, and I stare right back, completely memorized by them.

They've gotten lighter each year I've known her, big and round olive eyes stare directly back at me before she slips under my arms, her delicate head resting against my shoulder as we both flop to the ground to sit and watch the waves crash along the shore.

For being so young, I like to think that we're both mature for our age.

Too mature if you ask me.

And I can see that as I watch Maeve's side profile as she watches the waves with such longing, like she would trade places to be out there instead of here in a heart beat.

"One day, we're going to get married." She whispers, so quiet I can barely hear her over the oceans grumble.

I scrunch my face. "Married? That's disgusting."

She looks visibly hurt for just a second before continuing.

"But we'd be so happy! And free. And then I'll get you as many cats as you want."

I consider it and sigh, knowing I've lost this battle. "I'll marry you on one condition."

Her head snaps to mine, excitement that I haven't seen from her in a long time flooding her face.

"What? I'd do anything for you to be safe."

I stupidly ignore the last part because I don't understand what she's talking about.

She's always safe with me.

Always.

"The cats have to be black. Like your hair. It's so pretty."

She blushes slightly even in the cold.

"You promise?" She asks, her bottom lip trembling just slightly like she's worried I'll turn her down.

"I promise, Nova."

Her face lit up so much. So bright. Like a star. Because Maeve is my star.

Maeve - present

"Can you stop kicking me? You're ruining our chance of having children, babe."

Rhys grunts, dragging himself to his feet with the assistance of the bar counter.

My nostrils flare at what he just said, giving me the urge to kick him yet again.

God, why does he have to be so fucking gorgeous?

But he looks so...different.

His hair is much darker. I loved his blonde hair when we were younger but now it's just a shade away from being chocolate. Like his eyes.

He's also thickened out. Broad shoulders, muscular arms that make his shirt look like it's about two seconds away from ripping and exposing me to his toned chest.

Do not think about his chest.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I grit, hands flexing at my sides.

The silence that filtered through the bar is now filled with chatter and loud music again, everyone who was staring moments ago now too distracted by Seth's karaoke to notice us.

Rhys blinks, surprised that I'm even talking.

"I live here. I'm on the D1 team."

So he did get accepted onto a team. I always wondered if he would still be chasing that dream from when we were kids.

"No shit, dumbass." I mutter, completely exhausted from the turn of events that unfolded tonight.

I get a whiff of his cologne when he leans in slightly, rain and pine invading my head when he says,

"I don't remember you liking to swear this much, Nova."

Is he fucking kidding me?

Grabbing his ear tightly and dragging it down to my lips, I ignore the shudder that goes through him as I sneer,

"I'm surprised you remember me at all."

I turn on my heel and leave, flipping him off over my shoulder, which earns me a chuckle.

I hate how much I missed that sound.

So I sway my ass more with each step I take, the chuckle that escaped his lips seconds ago now turning into a grunt.

Good. He can go cry about it.