“Pal?”
I shrug.
“Better thanhotshot, I guess.”
I can’t help a small laugh at that. “You can’t be so open with me one day and shut down the next. It doesn’t work like that. I’m right here, and I’m not going to let you shut me out. I’m not going to let you push me away. Not when you invited me to be here with you.”
He snags his bottom lip between his teeth, and then he presses his lips together. He reaches over and grabs my hand in his. “Thank you,” he whispers.
My brows dip together. “For what?”
“For not letting me slip back into old habits. I’m not used to having someone around who cares.”
“Well, get used to it. Pal.”
He gives me a huff of a chuckle at that.
“What are you really thinking?” I ask.
He sighs, and he looks up at the ceiling as the plane starts to taxi down the runway. The flight attendants are talking about safety, but all I can listen to is his voice.
“I’m nervous,” he admits.
“You?” I ask, shocked that those are his words. He seems like the least nervous person I’ve ever met. “About what?”
“I’m nervous my father is going to show up to the funeral, and I’d prefer to keep you away from him,” he says through a clenched jaw.
I’m not sure why he wants to keep me away. It’s not like I’m going to run off with his dad. But then it dawns on me that hehateshis dad, and maybe he just wants to protect me from that.
“There are actually quite a few people I’d prefer not to see who might show up. I’ve been dreading this day more and more, and I’m sorry I didn’t admit that to you sooner,” he says quietly.
I squeeze his hand in mine.
“I don't really care who shows up and who doesn't,” I say. “Regardless of who's there, my hand will be firmly in yours. And that is something you can count on.”
He squeezes my hand back. “Thank you,” he whispers.
The flight is fairly lengthy, and a sense of nervousness seems to fall over both of us the closer we get to our destination. We’re quiet as we each do our own thing, me working—as usual—on some different opportunities Ellie has shared with me as he studies film ahead of next week's game.
When we finally land, we take a car to our hotel. We check in, call for room service, and take some time to just relax before the funeral tomorrow. It's just a normal, everyday sort of activity with what feels more and more like the man who has become my boyfriend.
We don’t have sex. We're not climbing all over each other as we have been for the last few weeks, but instead it's this lovely sort of quiet time that we really haven't had the chance to experience yet.
He chooses a movie from the on-demand options, and we snuggle on the bed after we eat as we simply enjoy each other's company in a way we never have.
We fall asleep like that, tangled together, relaxed and comfortable with one another as we both separately start to dread what we know is coming tomorrow.
When morning dawns, things look virtually the same as they did yesterday, but the big difference is today is the day Maverick will have to say goodbye to his mother.
It's a day he's surely thought of and has probably dreaded but knew would eventually come. It brings to mind my own fears, as I know my own mother's time is coming as well.
The difference is that he's close with his mom. He had the kind of relationship once upon a time with her that I had always dreamed of having with my mom but never got to experience.
It's not too late, a tiny voice in my head whispers. I think back to the last conversation I had with her and realize that just because it's not too late doesn't mean it was ever meant to be.
I force those thoughts away. Today’s about Maverick.
I slip into the black dress I brought for the occasion as Maverick slips into his suit. Despite the heat I definitely feel climbing up my spine as I see him emerge all dressed up, I'm well aware that this isn't the time to act on those feelings.
