Incomplete

by Eliza Park

  I gave the company Maverick’s address and hung up, saddened to find that I’d managed to eat all of the fries.

  “That burger place was really good,” I said.

  Maverick stood, walking over to me at the desk and picked up my empty container, returning it to the bag. “I can’t believe you ate the whole thing.”

  “Amazing what an appetite without pills can do.”

  His gaze drifted down my body again, focusing on my legs this time. “I can’t get over how different you are.”

  I lifted my butt off the chair slowly, bringing my chest to his, and touching his arm. There was that familiar electric pull, causing a hum to sound between us. I ran my fingers over the tight muscles of his bicep, drawing circles over the blue veins down to the crook of his elbow.

  “When does your cab get here?” Maverick said under his breath.

  “Ten minutes.” I continued to study the muscles on his tanned arms, infatuated with the way they looked under my pale nails and resisting the urge to dig them into his skin. Dirty images sprang through my mind and instead of flinching from them, I wanted to embrace them, embrace him. I tucked the fingers of my other hand under the hem of his shirt, wanting just a peek of his chiseled abdomen, and heard him suck in a sharp breath. I lifted my eyes to his, excited to see those powdery blues full of the same untethered lust. Bringing both of my hands to his abdomen, I traced my fingers up under the light gray fabric, feeling the hard ridges of his stomach and chest. His hand cupped my cheek, angling my chin up to parallel our gazes. Wordlessly, he asked for my permission, and I gave it, standing on the toes of my shoes to kiss him. His arm around my back pulled me flush against him, and I smiled against his mouth, lifting my arms to wrap around his neck. He deepened the kiss, his soft lips pressing hungrily against mine and I could feel the controlled desperation he was using to keep his hands from wandering.

  My body was hot all over, igniting from the connection and lighting fires all the way down to my toes. Sex had been good with him before, but never had I been so conscious of every part of my body against his. I wanted to drag him backwards to that giant bed and see what else he could make me feel, when the door to his room burst open.

  I saw Mia standing there over his shoulder, eyes narrowed with barely contained fury and disconnected myself from his embrace, straightening my jacket.

  Maverick turned, angrily, hands clenched into fists at the interruption. “Mia,” he growled.

  “What the fuck is this?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her body was too skinny, her face too gaunt. She looked like a recovering addict, reminding me of a couple of the girls from rehab. At first glance her eyes looked like they were sunken into her skull, but I was starting to realize it was probably just her insane amount of eyeliner. I had the growing sick feeling she was hiding something.

  “None of your fucking business, Mia. Get out.” Mav was tensed, looking like he had back in the halls of Saint Bridgette’s. Coiled, ready to spring.

  I picked my phone up off the desk, sticking it into my jacket pocket. My phone had everything. It was my wallet, my lifeline, and even the key to my apartment.

  “I said I was okay with you screwing around, Maverick but right in front of my face is just plain rude.”

  I raised my eyebrows at this and quietly walked around Maverick, hoping I could slip out the front door without getting involved.

  Mia blocked my way, her thin lips stuck in a pout.

  “Excuse me.” I said politely.

  “Who the fuck even are you?” She spat, “We’ve been together for like three years, where did you even come from?”

  I looked back at Maverick over my shoulder. He was brimming with hot rage, his face red, eyes blazing blue fire. “Three years, huh?”

  Maverick shook his head, “Not like that. I tried to explain—.”

  I held up my hand, silencing him, “Mia, get out of my way.”

  She stood her ground. I felt my hackles raise, the blood boiling beneath my skin. I spent a lot of time one semester being trapped and promised myself when I was free that I would never ever feel that way again. I leaned forward, “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  Her doe-brown eyes widened slightly in fear and she stumbled to the wall and I sent a quiet mental thank you to Emily for the intimidation tactics she’d shared. I glared at her as I walked back into the living room, nearly running into Brody on my way to the door.

  He was looking down at me with awe in his deep brown eyes. “Celeste, please come back soon.” He brought his hands together over the glass of water in his hands, “Please.”

  “Nice to meet you, Brody.”

  “I can honestly say I can’t wait to see you again.”

  I ignored the other people in the house, checking the time on my phone as I pushed through the front door and down the steps.

  I had five more minutes till the cab would get here. I paced in the direction I knew it would come from, ready to redial the number in a minute, when Maverick’s voice sounded behind me.

  I turned, noticing with relief that Mia wasn’t behind him in the doorway, sulking.

  “I feel like I’ve been chasing you since you got back.”

  “Listen, Mav, whatever is going on with you two, you need to sort it out. I don’t do drama.”

  He stared at me, “Celeste your whole life is a soap opera.”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that burst through my lips. “Okay, that’s fair. But I don’t share well.”

  He straightened his ball cap, “We’re still on for this weekend?”

  I hesitated, looking down the road, and spotted the yellow cab. “Yeah.”

  Maverick took a step towards me, bringing his calloused hands to my cheeks once again, “Saturday morning?”

  “Saturday morning.”

  The answering grin he gave me was everything. I stepped into the yellow car easily and spotted Mia standing at the door, shouting something down at Maverick as he gazed at me.

  We pulled away and I kept my eyes forward, a smile playing across my lips.

  Chapter 30

  Maverick

  “Fucking Mia,” I grumbled, putting the engraved flask to my lips.

  Brody sat next to me in the stretch limo, cradling a bottle of beer he hadn’t yet tried. “You put this on yourself, man. Don’t try to pretend like you didn’t keep going back to her when she was getting crazy.”

  Jonah was leaning back against the seat of the limo, very obviously on his way to being tipsy. “No, Brody, don’t say that. Maverick did nothing wrong.”

  I grinned at him. Jonah was always on my side, even when I was wrong, which was…often. “Thanks, Jay,” I said.

  Noah was sloppily pouring Jonah another drink, his bulky frame too large for even the extra wide limo. He handed the drink to Jonah who spilled quite a bit of it on the leather interior. Logan was sitting closer to the driver, surrounded by a few of Jonah’s friends. They were chatting excitedly, donned in a variety of prop hats and sunglasses for the pictures we’d taken back at the hotel. Logan was wearing an over-sized pair of red frame-less glasses and sipping on a pink drink through a tiny straw.

  “I agree with Brody, you can’t just keep going back to that shit,” Noah said, his gruff voice barely audible over the loud pop music blasting through the speakers. “You gave her the wrong idea.”

  Juice by Lizzo had been on repeat since Jonah’s first three rounds of shots.

  We still had a few minutes before we would pull up to the first bar, and I was only a couple drinks deep. I was fighting myself between wanting to get plastered and wanting to stay sober enough to not have a headache in the morning. I’d need all the mental energy I had tomorrow.

  I sighed. Celeste.

  I couldn’t keep my mind off of her the whole week, but especially not during practice. After years of training, that shit came easy to me. It was all technical and strategic and I was fucking great at it. Coach Fitz was still hoping I’d choose to go pro, but I couldn’t sto
mach the idea. I knew the statistics on concussions and injuries for pro athletes. No amount of money was worth it.

  Recently, though. I sucked. I couldn’t focus. Every time I threw the ball her fucking face showed up in my mind. Standing there in the doorway in a jacket and t-shirt that hugged her suddenly voluptuous chest. When the fuck had she gotten boobs that big? She was always average sized—a B or maybe a C cup, the perfect handful from what I could remember, but holy fuck that was a difference I was not expecting.

  Correction: I hadn’t been expecting her to show up at all, much less looking like a fucking pin-up girl.

  Even her ass was different. She looked like she worked out now, ran or did squats, and I would put money on some self-defense training. The way she sized up Mia in the hallway—fuck.

  She was still skinny, but she had curves. Healthy, amazing curves I needed to get my hands on.

  The picture I had of her in my mind from the Christmas party was gaunt, too skinny, too flat. Her eyes had been empty, her hair thin. I’d thought of her with that image for so long, I was having a hard time replacing it with the actual goddess who’d appeared at my door. She was so different, and not just physically. It was like talking to a completely different person. She didn’t look like she was questioning reality, there was zero haziness to her gaze. Watching her absorb everything, from the house to the trees, the burger, right down to the picture on my desk, was like watching a kid see candy for the first time. She didn’t miss anything.

  And the blushing. Holy actual shit it was incredible. Real emotions crossed her features in real time, as she understood them, and that was a perk of knowing Celeste I had never been privy to. She was sharper, wittier, cleverer, but I could still see the reservations in the way she moved, how she looked uncomfortable in a room full of guys she didn’t know.

  Mia wasn’t an issue. I’d told her to fuck off so many times, but this time I had been beyond angry. She’d walked away with tears in her eyes, but I knew she’d show up again. Ashley and Selena had glared at me when they’d left, but they’d always be on her side.

  My real problem was this weekend. I couldn’t hang out with Celeste all day tomorrow and not fuck her. There was no way I was going to survive. Keeping my hands from roaming down that insane body had been nearly impossible, and that was only after a couple of hours. And all that shit she’d said about saving her?

  Fuck.

  What could I do? She had been everything before, but now she was better. Everything I’d dreamed of doing for her, all the little things I wanted to throw in her path, she’d done for herself without me. And now she was here, on the East Coast, only a couple of hours from me for potentially the next four years. I needed to give her space, but that vision I had of us in an apartment in the city was clawing at my conscious memory, begging to become reality.

  I was going to have to be hands-free until I was sure she was ready for me and I knew that would take time.

  I could wait.

  The image of her ass in those shorts crossed my mind and I rubbed my forehead.

  Probably.

  My mind went back to Mia, “I was perfectly clear,” I argued, “about my intentions.”

  Jonah sat up in his seat, sipping on his drink, “She’s a raging bitch, Maverick,” He said, shrugging, “Don’t give her another thought. Onwards and upwards!” He pumped his fist into the air. “Plus,” he continued after a moment, “I heard a rumor that a new girl walked into your life the other day.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, and I smiled.

  Jonah and I had become pretty close over the last couple of years. We spent a lot of time together during the trial, and Jonah could never bring himself to rejoin the football team. After we put James away for a measly 25 years, we continued to hang out. Brody and I were with him the night his long-term boyfriend, Charlie, proposed, and he’d already asked me to be his best man. Jonah had been in the office with me when Celeste had called, the day before she got out of rehab. I’d been a dick to pretty much everyone that day, but Jonah refused to put up with that shit, and I’d told him part of Celeste’s story.

  “It was me,” I said, “I told you that rumor.”

  Jonah fell back, laughing, his drink nearly empty.

  The limo pulled up to the side of the street and the party closest to Logan piled out. Logan put his log-sized arm over my shoulder when I exited. “Those drinks, what are they?” He asked.

  “Um, I don’t know. I could go ask.” They’d been my mother’s suggestion, and I was coming to find that my mother was never wrong.

  “They’re fucking good.”

  “I can’t argue with you.”

  “I’ve been drinking piss flavored beer for years,” he admitted.

  “Not anymore.”

  Logan shook his head, “Not anymore.”

  We went into the club, heading straight for the bar to order a couple rounds of shots for the group. I carried them to the dance floor where Jonah was jumping and dancing and screaming and throwing his arms around.

  Jonah was a great person to have at any part. His happiness was infectious.

  After parceling out the shots, we toasted to Jonah and drank.

  A skinny waitress with purple hair to her knees appeared with another round.

  Brody stood off to the side of our group with a new bottle of beer I had a feeling he wasn’t drinking. He always had to be the responsible one.

  “Maverick!” Jonah screamed into my ear, “Dance with me!”

  I agreed, the liquor in my body always managing to cause a dangerous level of confidence. Jonah’s arms jerked out like they were made of fucking noodles, his legs splaying around in a way that had me roaring. I let my limbs go loose and waved them around, causing Jonah to holler and snort, his hand coming to cover his mouth. I was only good at ballroom, and I knew that.

  After about an hour we moved to the next bar and did a few more shots.

  Two hours later (because time moves more quickly when you’re plastered) we were on our way to our final destination before heading back to the hotel. Charlie and his party would be meeting us soon, something Jonah had specifically requested.

  It was already midnight.

  “Give me your phone,” Jonah shouted into my ear.

  We were still outside the club and I squinted at him in amusement, “Why the fuck are you shouting?”

  He laughed.

  By the time I was toasty enough to realize the bad decision I was making, it had already been made. Jonah took my phone from my hands and texted Celeste. I could have tried to stop him, but I didn’t want to. A few minutes later he handed my phone back to me with a smirk on his face. “There you go, Captain Maverick, your co-pilot will be joining us shortly.” Jonah fanned his fingers out to me and disappeared onto the dance floor, following recently arrived, soon to be husband.

  I grinned, my vision blurring around the edges. Brody stood next to me, sipping water. “Man, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so drunk,” he chortled.

  I snorted, “I was that drunk a few weeks ago.”

  Brody pointed to me with his finger, “Yes, yes you were.”

  “Apparently I fucked Mia.”

  His eyebrows raised and he turned his body to face me, “I don’t think she was there that night.”

  “Fuck,” I said, closing my eyes, “Of course she’d lie about that too.”

  “So,” Brody said, his gaze quizzical, “Did you fuck someone?”

  I shrugged and turned, keeping my eye on the door.

  What felt like an entire decade later, Celeste appeared. She walked through the door wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. She didn’t look like she was going for a night out on the town, but somehow still, she was mesmerizing. A brunette girl with messy hair and giant boots trailed in after her, a grim expression on her face.

  I watched Celeste walk up to the bar, trying not to seem creepy as I sipped on my beer. I smacked Brody on the shoulder and nodded with my head in her direction. T
he brunette was leaning over the bar, yelling something at the bartender and Celeste was watching her, an amused expression on her face.

  We made our way over and I stood before her, feeling all too confident. “Hi,” I yelled over the music.

  She startled and turned to me, her expression going from fear and confusion to pure delight. She hopped off the barstool and stood next to me, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Hi.” She held up her hand to wave to Brody, who was eying the brunette.

  Celeste leaned forward to say into my ear, “My cousin, Janey.”

  Janey deigned to turn her attention to me, wearing a firm lack of a smile. Looking between Celeste and her cousin, I could actually see how they could be related. They had the same wide eyes and plump lips, but Janey’s face was more oval-shaped, her eyes a bright blue. Even their noses were identical. She raised an eyebrow to Celeste, who nodded, a light pink creeping into her cheeks. Janey held out her hand to me, “Hi,” she said, her grip firm.

  I knew then that if I ever hurt Celeste (which, at this point was bound to happen with all the shit I had secret from her), Janey would be at my door, armed with a battle ax and ready to tear my head from my body. “Maverick,” I said and nudged Brody. “This is my roommate, Brody.”

  Janey turned to Brody and actually offered him a smile, holding out her hand for official introduction. He took it, looking a little wide-eyed at her all-black attire with the big black combat boots. I nudged the hot blonde next to me with an elbow and she looked up at me with a smile.

  “What are you drinking?” I asked into her ear.

  She stood on her toes, her hand touching my arm, “I’m sober.”

  Had the circumstances surrounding her sobriety been different, I would have laughed at the prospect. But I was proud of her diligence, her ability not to drink when surrounded by drunk people. “So, water?”

  She smiled.

  I nodded to Janey, “What’s she having?”

  Celeste rolled her eyes, “I don’t know, probably bottom shelf Irish whisky.” The bartender set a dark liquid drink on the bar and waited for Janey to hand him her card. She threw down some crumpled dollar bills, picked up the glass, and tipped it down her throat without flinching.