“Hannah,” he says curtly.
I drop my hands off her face but put my arm around her waist and keep her close to me.
“If you’re serious about not marrying me…” he begins.
“I am,” she says. “I believe I’ve made that perfectly clear several times already.”
His face reddens. “I won’t give you a reference for your Ph.D. application. Just remember that.”
“You’re an ass,” she says. “I don’t need it, anyway.”
“Of course you do. But you’re not going to get it. Your loss.” He turns on his heel and storms off.
“What a prick.” Hannah’s eyes go flat. “Two years I worked by his side, and he just tried to threaten my future.”
I lead her around the corner to a private area of the casino where we sit down on a bench.
“He can’t take away your master’s degree or your work experience,” I say. “Can another colleague give you a reference?”
“Yes, but Craig was my direct supervisor.” She takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “Honestly, I knew all of this fallout would probably happen the moment I decided to climb into your truck. It sucks, but I’m not surprised. I hoped he would be more professional, but that’s Craig.”
“I made things worse for you with that fake kiss,” I say. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help.”
“Fake kissing me doesn’t come close to what I had to witness him doing with my maid of honor and supposed friendwhilehe and I were still together. He got off easy. I’m glad we gave him a taste of his own medicine.” She kisses my cheek. “Thank you.” She winks at me. “See? You are a good guy, Maverick Court.”
I’m not.
A good guy wouldn’t be fighting with everything he has not to haul Hannah against him and kiss her for real.
And now we have to sleep in the same room again.
Fucking hell.
Chapter Twenty
Hannah
God, I wanted Maverick to kiss me for real.
I was sure he was going to. The way his eyes darkened as he leaned close to me. And I could hear his breath catch in his throat as he cupped my cheek. But then, he faked me out. I wonder why.
My dirty thoughts about Maverick are a nice distraction from the crap Craig spewed at me.
No reference?
I push down the panic threatening to overwhelm me. I can ask Professor Mullens for a reference. She never liked Craig. Her letter may not carry as much weight as Craig’s because my area of expertise is so similar to his, but I can’t worry about that now.
And I made the choice to leave L.A. for a fresh start. I can go apply to psychology schools in Chicago. I just need to research the available programs to find the right match. Chicago is a huge city. I’m sure I can find a good option. For now, though, I’m going to enjoy my road trip with a hot guy, a guy who’s already proven himself to be a far better man than the one I nearly married.
* * *
Maverick and I step outside and into the hot desert air of Nevada. We walk down The Strip until the sun starts to set, at which point Maverick asks if I’m hungry for dinner.
“Sure,” I say. “I’d love a pizza and beer. You?”
He flicks his gaze over to me. “Are you serious? You like those things?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I slap his arm playfully. “Are you one of those jocks who think women don’t like the same things you do?”
