“What a prick.” Hannah’s eyes go flat. “Two years I worked by his side, and he just tried to threaten my future.”
I lead her around the corner to a private area of the casino where we sit down on a bench.
“He can’t take away your master’s degree or your work experience,” I say. “Can another colleague give you a reference?”
“Yes, but Craig was my direct supervisor.” She takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “Honestly, I knew all of this fallout would probably happen the moment I decided to climb into your truck. It sucks, but I’m not surprised. I hoped he would be more professional, but that’s Craig.”
“I made things worse for you with that fake kiss,” I say. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help.”
“Fake kissing me doesn’t come close to what I had to witness him doing with my maid of honor and supposed friend while he and I were still together. He got off easy. I’m glad we gave him a taste of his own medicine.” She kisses my cheek. “Thank you.” She winks at me. “See? You are a good guy, Maverick Court.”
I’m not.
A good guy wouldn’t be fighting with everything he has not to haul Hannah against him and kiss her for real.
And now we have to sleep in the same room again.
Fucking hell.
Chapter Twenty
Hannah
God, I wanted Maverick to kiss me for real.
I was sure he was going to. The way his eyes darkened as he leaned close to me. And I could hear his breath catch in his throat as he cupped my cheek. But then, he faked me out. I wonder why.
My dirty thoughts about Maverick are a nice distraction from the crap Craig spewed at me.
No reference?
I push down the panic threatening to overwhelm me. I can ask Professor Mullens for a reference. She never liked Craig. Her letter may not carry as much weight as Craig’s because my area of expertise is so similar to his, but I can’t worry about that now.
And I made the choice to leave L.A. for a fresh start. I can go apply to psychology schools in Chicago. I just need to research the available programs to find the right match. Chicago is a huge city. I’m sure I can find a good option. For now, though, I’m going to enjoy my road trip with a hot guy, a guy who’s already proven himself to be a far better man than the one I nearly married.
Maverick and I step outside and into the hot desert air of Nevada. We walk down The Strip until the sun starts to set, at which point Maverick asks if I’m hungry for dinner.
“Sure,” I say. “I’d love a pizza and beer. You?”
He flicks his gaze over to me. “Are you serious? You like those things?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I slap his arm playfully. “Are you one of those jocks who think women don’t like the same things you do?”
“No,” he says immediately.
I stop and put my hands on my hips. He stops too and cracks up laughing. “Okay, fine. I am. I was.”
I smile triumphantly. “I knew it. You’re too easy to read, Mr. Court.”
His arm snaking around my waist surprises the shit out of me, and I have to bite down on a gasp so I won’t give myself away.
“I don’t come from money,” I tell him as we continue our walk down the street.
Like this is normal for us to be strolling down the street as if we’re a freaking couple.
“Neither do I,” he says. “Understatement of the day, right there.”
I smile. “Well, pizza and beer were affordable for me in college. Plus, I like them. But I started my love of them due to my wallet.”
I can practically feel the unspoken question on the tip of his tongue.
“Just ask me, Maverick.” I poke him. “You know you want to.”
His hand disappears off my hip, and I swallow down my disappointment.
“It’s none of my business,” he says quickly. He nods across the street. “Look—a pizza place. You want to go?”
“I’d love to.”
But the way he abruptly distanced himself from me a moment ago didn’t go unnoticed. And I don’t want to dissect the ache of disappointment in my chest. However, I also don’t want to push the feeling away like it’s irrelevant.
I did that too much with Craig—ignored the way his behavior hurt me until I was simply numb to it. And look where that got me.
So after Maverick and I order at the counter and then take seats at a Formica table inside the dated pizza parlor to wait for our food, I take a small leap of courage.
Every little step I take outside of my comfort zone feels strange, almost like I’m peeling off the old layers of myself and learning what the hell has been underneath all of these years.
“Your confusion about my money issues was on point,” I begin.
Maverick puts up a hand. “I wasn’t saying…”
“Craig was my boyfriend throughout college,” I continue. “And like you probably guessed from your brief meeting, he never hurt for money. He’s older than me by several years, and his family provided him a comfortable lifestyle while he got his degree. I always felt lesser than him. From the very beginning.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.’ Maverick’s jaw tightens. “You’re worth so much more than that bastard.”
I look at him. “We met when he was already halfway toward his doctorate, so I was always looking up to him and trying to play catch up. He was my mentor. In everything.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still a million times better.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Our eyes catch and hold until Maverick averts his gaze.
He fiddles with the drink coaster in front of him. “Hannah. Look…”
And he’s pulling back from me again.
But I’m not ready to shut down whatever’s happening between us tonight.
“I was only twenty when I got my undergrad degree,” I continue. “I had my master’s by twenty-two. That’s how I ended up working for Craig so young.”
“How old are you?” Maverick finally looks up from the table.
“Twenty-three this week.”
“This week?” He rolls the coaster toward me, and I catch it. “What day?”
Now it’s my turn to fiddle with the coaster.
“Hannah.” Maverick’s gruff voice wraps around me like a blanket. “What day is your birthday?”
“Tomorrow,” I say as I stare down at the chipped Formica that’s definitely seen better days.
A rough thumb slips under my chin and gently tips my head so I’m forced to look up.
Maverick’s dark eyes are questioning. “You don’t look forward to your birthday? Or is it this birthday in particular that you’re dreading?”
“My birthday has been bittersweet since I lost my parents,” I admit. “But Craig always tried to make it special for me. Some years were better than others.” Like when he was too busy with work. “Eventually, I learned to kind of ignore the day I was born, to be honest.”
Maverick frowns. “That won’t do. We’ll celebrate together tomorrow.”
I shake my head. “We have to keep driving. We can’t stay in Vegas another night.”
“Who said anything about Vegas?” He pulls out his phone and starts typing. “Let’s see—Grand Junction, Colorado is only seven hours from here. We can camp there.”
“Really? Can we see constellations?”
“If it’s clear enough, we should be able to. Maybe we’ll see a shooting star, and you can make a birthday wish.”
His smile directed at me takes my breath away.
“That would be so much better than candles,” I get out. And then, I start rambling. “When I was really young, I wished for waffles one year for a birthday breakfast. They were always my favorite food, and my mom would buy them for me. That year, though, she surprised me with a waffle maker.”
“She sounds like she was a great mom.”
“She was. She made me birthday waffles every year from then on. Until…” I trail off. “She was no longer around.”
“Hannah.” Maverick’s eyes flash with emotion. “I get it.”
I believe him. You can’t fake the kind of pain I see in his face.
“After the funeral, I donated the waffle maker.” I wipe a lone tear from my cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t usually get emotional like this around other people. And I’ve never told anyone that story before.”
Maverick’s eyes widen. “Not your ex?”
I shake my head. “Craig and I talked a lot. But mostly about work-related stuff. In college, we talked about our career goals. We were well-matched in that way. But other parts of me suffered.”
“What parts?” Maverick’s tone deepens.
I wave a hand in the air. “You know—emotionally.” And sexually. My face heats. “Among other things.”
Maverick rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Those parts of you deserve attention too, Hannah.”
He studies my face in a way that makes me squirm. Like he’s undressing me without even laying a hand on me.
“Hello!” The server—another bubbly blonde with a penchant for looking only at my companion—appears with our pizza and two mugs of beer on a tray.
“Here you go!” She flashes Maverick a blindingly-white smile as she crowds close to his side of the booth. “Can I get you anything else?”
He pointedly shifts his gaze to me. “Hannah? You need anything?”
“Red pepper flakes?” I ask her.
The server purses her lips and nods. “Be right back.”
When she’s gone, I shoot Maverick a look. “Didn’t know you were such a troublemaker.”
His lips twitch. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right.” I flick the coaster back to him. “I appreciate you making it clear there are two of us at this booth. But it wasn’t necessary. I’m starting to get used to women eye-fucking you.”
Maverick grimaces. “You shouldn’t have to get used to that. I’m not used to having someone else with me like this.”
“You don’t go on dates?” I realize what I just said and immediately try to backtrack. “Not that this is a date, but I mean…” Shit, what do I mean? “I mean…you don’t normally go to a restaurant with a woman?”
“No.” He digs into the pizza, making sure to pass me a slice before taking one for himself. “Like I told you before, between football and family commitments, my life’s pretty full.”
“Right.”
I shut up then. I need to stop prying into his personal life.
I’m developing a bit of a crush on my road trip companion. And that is very bad. Like he’s made very clear, Maverick Court doesn’t want a relationship. And I’m not a casual girl.
Still…
Something about being casual with Maverick feels different.
I drink my mug of beer quickly. Maverick orders us two more.
I order two more after that.
And then, I lose track.
By the time we leave the pizza joint, I’m drunk.
“I never drink,” I mumble as I stumble outside to the sidewalk.
Maverick catches me around the waist before I face plant. “You don’t say,” he teases me.
A laugh bubbles out of my mouth. “I’m always working. And before that, I was always studying.”
“Maybe you and I aren’t as different as I thought,” he says as he nearly hauls me down the sidewalk toward our hotel. “We’re both focused on our goals to the exclusion of other things.”
“Maybe.” I’m barely following his train of thought.
Because hello…his hard body is pressed against my side. Granted, that’s because I’m so drunk I need assistance, but that doesn’t take away how good he feels next to me.
He feels right. I can’t deny it, and I don’t want to either.
As we round the corner toward our hotel, the warm Nevada breeze hits me square in the face. Even though the sun is setting, the air is still hot as sin.
“Sinfully hot,” I murmur. “Perfect for Vegas.”
I didn’t mean to say that so loudly.
Maverick clears his throat. “We’re here.”
He noticeably shifts away from me, using both his hands to practically propel me through the revolving hotel doors and into the lobby.
“Mav,” I say as he hustles us toward the elevator bank.
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Pretty sure that’s not a good idea, Hannah.” His tone is rough.
I stare up at him. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
His face is expressionless, but I can clearly see the tick of his jaw. “I think I do.” The elevator dings, and Maverick guides me inside ahead of him. We’re the only two people in the car. He maneuvers me up against the metal railing of the small space, and then he steps backward until he’s as far away from me as possible.
“Maverick.” I reach for him, but I’m too unsteady to leave the railing, so my hand just hangs in the air. “Come here.”
He trains his gaze on the panel as the numbers rise.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maverick
Hannah’s showing me a whole new side of herself tonight.
A drunk side.
But also a vulnerable, sexual side.
One I bet she doesn’t reveal too often or to very many people.
I’m intrigued by these new sides of Hannah.
Understatement of my life. The truth is I want her so badly I’m shaking.
I’ve never felt like this around a woman before.
But I’m also on guard. I feel the need to protect her from guys like me.
Which means I can’t fuck her.
“It’s so hot in here,” she says the minute we walk into our room and the door shuts behind us.
I latch the security lock on the door and head for the climate control box on the wall. I push the down arrow until the cool air is pumping. Then, I rummage through my bag and pull out a t-shirt and sweats.
I toss them onto Hannah’s bed. “Change into those.”
She glares at me. “Bossy man. What if I don’t want to?”
I resist the urge to laugh. “Tough. You spilled beer on your sexy rebound sundress.” Fuck. My mouth just can’t keep quiet.
Hannah’s eyes that are the color of the Vegas sky in daylight narrow. “That’s the second time tonight you’ve brought that up.”
“It’s a hard detail to forget.” But I should. I definitely should.
“How come?” she asks me as she finally takes a seat on her bed.
I exhale. “Ask any guy, and he’ll tell you the same thing.”
“So I’m just any woman to you?”
No.
“Look. Hannah, you’re going through a rough time right now. You’re vulnerable. And I don’t want some asshole—” Even if that asshole is me “—taking advantage of that.” I stuff my hands in the front pockets of my jeans, willing myself not to march across the room and take her into my arms. “You deserve to take your time and only have sex again when you’re ready.”
“Well, that’s a relief then.”
I nod, thinking she finally understands.
I turn away to head for the bathroom.
I’ve made it about five steps when two arms wrap around me from behind. “I’m ready, Maverick. But only if it’s with you.”
Shit.
Apparently, I’ve once again underestimated this woman’s determination.
I knew it was a mistake to bring her with me on this trip.
Fucking Dylan. If he had just stayed in his own lane instead of interfering in mine…
“What do you say?” Her voice is certain with just a hint of the innocence that’s trademark Hannah.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hannah
Maverick’s hands cover mine where they’re resting over his hard abs.
Just as I think we’re on the same page, he slowly lifts first one of my hands, and then the other, off of him. He
spins around and takes my hands back in his, but only so he can step back from me.
His eyes are filled with heat, and he squeezes them shut for a few seconds. When he reopens them, the heat is gone. Like it was never there at all.
I blink in confusion. “You don’t want casual sex? I’m making this very easy for you, Maverick. One night only. Just to get me over my broken wedding. Then, we continue the rest of the trip platonically.”
“Platonically?” Maverick’s voice hitches on the last syllable.
“Yes. Unless…” I clap my hands as my plan begins to crystallize. Being under the influence of alcohol is definitely giving me a confidence I don’t normally possess around men. At work, I’m comfortable with anyone, but when it comes to men, in a romantic sense, I’ve always been hopeless. But right now, I feel emboldened. “Unless we decide we want more.”
“More.” Maverick shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and takes another step back from me. “More…sex?”
“Yes.” I smile at him, sure he’ll see what a brilliant plan this is. “If we both enjoy the sex, then we can keep having it for the rest of our road trip. You can teach me stuff. Craig wasn’t very adventurous. I bet you would be.”
“Christ.” His hands fly out of his pockets only for him to jam them into his hair. “Hannah, can we table this conversa…”
“And then…” I continue as the beauty of my spontaneous plan fully unfolds in my brain. “We’ll part as friends once we hit Chicago. You’ll go off and become a big football star, and I’ll go get my Ph.D. Easy.”
“Easy,” he repeats.
“See?” I smile at him. “I knew you’d agree. So let’s get started.” I reach for the right strap of my sundress and drag it off my shoulder.
Maverick advances toward me so fast he’s a blur. He fixes the strap back over my shoulder, holding it in place. “Stay dressed, Hannah.” He sounds breathless. “Please.”
“How come?”
“You want to have this conversation tomorrow?” he asks me. “Fine. We’ll do that. I promise. But not tonight when you’ve been drinking. And I won’t kiss you for the first time when you’re drunk, either. That’s non-negotiable.”
Bossy Baller: A Hero Club Novel Page 7