Maverick gives me his whole attention. It would be enough to make me squirm any other time, and so intense that I could burn up under it, but that fire won’t hurt me. His flames only exist to keep me warm.
“If you can find the guy and get him into a courtroom and let the law decide and punish, like you said, then I’ll agree to it.” The words fall out of my mouth, so ineloquent that I wince. “None of it can come back to you. You can’t put yourself at risk for anything.” He opens his mouth to assure me that he won’t, but I’m not finished yet. I thought about this long and hard before I made my decision. “I’d like the guys at the club to do it.”
Shadows gather in his eyes. They’re not necessarily angry, but maybe a little bit wary and more than a little hurt. It feels like a knife in my hand, slipping between his ribs in betrayal, but this is my way of keeping him safe. He doesn’t have to like it or even agree with it.
“I’m only saying that because I feel like they’ll have more ways to protect themselves as a club. I doubt that this is the first illegal thing the place has done and not had any retribution come down on them. The difference between those men and you is that they’re not fresh out of jail. Uh… well, not most of them probably. They aren’t being watched or tracked or anything.”
“You don’t know that I am,” he shoots back.
“I don’t know with a hundred percent certainty that you’re not. I’m not willing to take any chances when it comes to your life and your freedom, Maverick.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to imagine what it was like for him on the inside. I might have been basically locked in my apartment, but that was my own choice. There was no one waiting for me, ready to cause me damage. I didn’t have to watch my back or sleep thinking that someone might harm me in the middle of the night. I didn’t have to worry about gangs or violence or trying to figure out who wanted what as currency and what every single breath was going to cost me.
Maverick’s never once looked cold before, but his face empties out, going completely devoid of emotion. He sips his coffee, then licks foam off the corner of his lips. A pang of heat shoots straight between my legs. I force myself to focus even though a tremor shoots through me.
“You’re apersonand I’d rather hurt myself a thousand times over than cause you a single moment of pain,” I rasp. “Iknow I’ve caused enough worry and heartache for you already, at the worst possible time. You told me last night that the club is here for both of us. Let’s let them be.”
He studies me for a long time. Longer than anyone would find comfortable, but instead of being unnerved by the direct eye contact, I hold it and drown in it. He leans forward and sets his mug on the coffee table, then scoots over to me. My breath catches. My first thought is how good he smells, how he seems so much larger up close, how I want his hot mouth on every inch of my body. I panic slightly because I have coffee breath, and eww, but Maverick either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
I freeze as his hand cups my cheek. He pushes back some of my wild hair that I haven’t even brushed out yet, tucking it behind the shell of my ear. He traces the whirl down to my earlobe. I shiver violently, his touch as potent as if he’d used his mouth.
“I can arrange for them to come here,” he says.
It takes his words a second to pierce through the hot haze that grips me. I shake my head, meaning no, but nuzzle against his hand. “I want to go to them.”
His loud inhale is telling. “How?” Not how as in,how the fuck do you think you’ll manage that?It’s more of a kind word, as in,tell me and I’ll make it happen.
I’ve thought this through, as much as thinking it through can really help anything. Get me noise cancelling headphones and put a blindfold on me and carry me out to the car.”
“You’ll still know the second we leave the house.”
“Then whip me into the front seat, buckle me in, zip tie me, and we can race there. Or just walk me outside, cold turkey,let me panic and maybe pass out, and then scrape me up and put me in the car like before.”
He traces his knuckles across my cheek, then runs the pad of this thumb over my bottom lip. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do for you, but you’re the one in control, Loreena. I’m only here to help.”
“I- I- know,” I pant. Literally. Because it’s ten thousand degrees in here and I’m drowning in the heat of his touch, the promise in his eyes, and in his nearness. My heart tries to burst out of my chest and get to him.
“I’m sorry that I left last night.”
“I needed to hear what you said, and we both needed time to think.”
“Yeah.” His hand falls away. He taps it in agitation against his leg before he uses the other to press it down flat. “I thought about what you said, about writing and reading. Maybe I need to do more of that, with you and with others. Reading what they’ve written. Sharing in others’ experiences and learning something from it. maybe I should take some more classes. Just because I’m good at one thing doesn’t mean I want to stop learning, and maybe I don’t always want to work at the clubhouse. Maybe I want to do something else or be good at something else. And art. I want more of it, especially music. I’m going to get a turntable and some vintage records. Maybe we can just… listen to them and chill.”
“I’d love that.” I’d love to do anything with him.
My stomach is a tight coil of knots thinking about leaving this house, but if it’s with Maverick—I can do it. I can do it for him, and I can do it for myself.
He’s still studying his hands, but a tiny smile rakes up the corner of his mouth. It sends a shower of sparks skittering along my skin. “I remember this quote fromCamusand it popped into my head last night, while I was walking around the block in an endless loop. It sounds harsh, but I didn’t take it to mean that. I just… like it and I think it has a lot of honesty in it.”
“What’s that?”
“It goes something like,the meaning of life is literally whatever it is that’s keeping you from ending it.”
“Mmm.” I have no idea how people come up with things like that. I’m no philosopher, but maybe the problem is, that I haven’t read enough of it either. I’ve always thought I was too analytical to enjoy it, but maybe I was wrong. Thinking about reading it and discussing it with Maverick, figuring it out, debating it, bouncing ideas that lead to new ideas, discovering our passions together—it makes me excited about it in a way that I’d never be by myself. “If you’re starting there, I’d like to read some too. I’ve heard of him, but never in a big way. Just snippets here and there.”
His eyes flash with something almost dark and maybe even a little bit feral. It just about sends me out of my skin, aching for him to touch me so badly that I could combust right here. “I had an idea last night. Something I thought would help both of us with the frustration that we’ve been feeling. I didn’t think it would be possible, at least not right away, but if you’re willing to give it a shot, I think you’d enjoy it. It does mean a short car ride, but not more than ten minutes, and we’d be safe inside. Would you trust me to see you through that and surprise you? After, I can take you to the clubhouse. Scythe didn’t even make it home last night. He has a room there and I guess hestayed. I’ll call ahead and ask if it’s alright for us to come in and talk to Dravin and Wizard.”
I watch him slowly unfurl and stand. He does it lazily, stretching overhead, then he cracks his knuckles. He’s utterly captivating. I’m enthralled by the way his body moves. Built muscles, thick in some areas, striated in others, cords of veins standing out stark against his skin.
