Page 2 of Defensive Hearts


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Reed.

It rings twice before he answers.

“Mav,” he answers, sleep woven into his voice.

I exhale hard, dragging a shaky hand down my face. “I don’t know when I became such a fuckup, man.”

Silence, only Reed’s steady breathing on the line, listening as he always does.

I rest my head against the steering wheel. “I know Mama’s been gone for over ten years, but... fuck, Reed. I need her. I need her so bad right now, and she’s just... not here.”

It’s quiet for a beat, then, softly, Reed says,

“Me too.”

I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “I thought I had it all figured out. Football, fame, whatever, but I don’t know who I am anymore. Everything feels fucking fake, like I’m pretending to be this version of me I never asked for.”

“You’re not pretending,” Reed says, “You’re just lost right now. But you’re still you.”

I close my eyes, trying to breathe past the lump in my throat. “I just... I need someone to believe in me.”

“I do.”

I swallow hard, blinking fast. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, “and you know who else would’ve? Mama.”

That does it.

A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. I wipe it away with the back of my hand, laughing bitterly.

“Jesus, I’m crying in a fucking parking lot.”

“You always were the sensitive one.”

“Fuck off.”

Reed chuckles softly. “Let me know when you get home.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, okay, thanks, bro.”

“Always.”

The call ends, and I sit there for a second, staring at the steering wheel with blurry eyes and a gut full of ache.

And then, just like that, her name cuts through the fog, and an idea pops into my head—a dumb one.

Amelia Hamilton.

She’s grumpy, inked, and way too smart to fall for my bullshit; she’s fucking perfect.

Which makes this the worst idea I’ve ever had.

I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she rolled her eyes at me like I was the dumbest thing she’d ever seen. The way she glared at me at my brother’s bar, like I wasn’t the infamous Maverick Hayes. I felt like I was finally fucking breathing when she looked at me.

I don’t need a PR stunt.

I need her.