“No.”
She gives me a look. “Of course, you haven’t. I doubt you have many female friends.”
She’d be right on that, but I don’t say anything. And she’s off onto the next subject anyway.
“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?” she asks me. “I’m starved.”
“There’s a restaurant across the parking lot,” I say. “I’ll get takeout for us. You stay here and shower.”
She puts her hand on her hip. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Yep.”
“Good to know.”
Her tone is amused and—something else I can’t place. I almost would have said grateful.
I reach into my bag and pull out a college football t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
“These will be too big,” I say as I hand them to her. “But they’ll keep you warm.”
She looks at the logo. “University.” She raises her eyes to meet mine. “You play for your college?”
“Not anymore. I was just drafted, so I’m moving cross country to join my new team.”
“Congratulations. You must be excited.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” As excited as I am about my future, saying the wordsnot anymorestill feels like a bit of a gut punch. My college coach recruited me and gave a kid who came from nothing a shot. In many ways, leaving my college football team is like leaving home for the first time.
I turn for the door. “See you in a few. We’re on the first floor, and I don’t know the area. Best to bolt the door when I leave. I’ll knock when I come back.”
Chapter Ten
Hannah
Like I said—Bossy.
Bolt the door?It locks upon closing anyway. Nevertheless, I appreciate Maverick’s protective side, and I do what he asks before heading for the bathroom.
I stare into the mirror at myself.
Good Lord, I look like crap. My lipstick has miraculously held up—the one thing I have to thank my maid of honor for is this lipstick that she swore would last all night long no matter what—but the rest of me is a mess.
My hair that I had painstakingly pinned up in a beautiful braided bun is now sticking up around my head like a lion’s mane, and my eyes just look…hollow. Empty. Red-rimmed from all that crying.
I lost everything today, and no amount of denial is going to stop me from that realization.
I begin the process of removing the pins from my hair. And as I work, I think.
Where do I go from here?
Chicago. That’s where Maverick is moving.
So as of tomorrow morning, I officially have no ride anymore. Not that I thought he and I would continue this journey together. I just hoped he’d be heading back to Los Angeles, not two thousand miles in the opposite direction.
But as I finish taking out the last pin and shake my hair free, then I finally take off my wedding dress and hang it up on the back of the bathroom door, I come to a conclusion.
I don’t want to go back to L.A. either.
