“This week?” He rolls the coaster toward me, and I catch it. “What day?”
Now it’s my turn to fiddle with the coaster.
“Hannah.” Maverick’s gruff voice wraps around me like a blanket. “What day is your birthday?”
“Tomorrow,” I say as I stare down at the chipped Formica that’s definitely seen better days.
A rough thumb slips under my chin and gently tips my head so I’m forced to look up.
Maverick’s dark eyes are questioning. “You don’t look forward to your birthday? Or is it this birthday in particular that you’re dreading?”
“My birthday has been bittersweet since I lost my parents,” I admit. “But Craig always tried to make it special for me. Some years were better than others.”Like when he was too busy with work. “Eventually, I learned to kind of ignore the day I was born, to be honest.”
Maverick frowns. “That won’t do. We’ll celebrate together tomorrow.”
I shake my head. “We have to keep driving. We can’t stay in Vegas another night.”
“Who said anything about Vegas?” He pulls out his phone and starts typing. “Let’s see—Grand Junction, Colorado is only seven hours from here. We can camp there.”
“Really? Can we see constellations?”
“If it’s clear enough, we should be able to. Maybe we’ll see a shooting star, and you can make a birthday wish.”
His smile directed at me takes my breath away.
“That would be so much better than candles,” I get out. And then, I start rambling. “When I was really young, I wished for waffles one year for a birthday breakfast. They were always my favorite food, and my mom would buy them for me. That year, though, she surprised me with a waffle maker.”
“She sounds like she was a great mom.”
“She was. She made me birthday waffles every year from then on. Until…” I trail off. “She was no longer around.”
“Hannah.” Maverick’s eyes flash with emotion. “I get it.”
I believe him. You can’t fake the kind of pain I see in his face.
“After the funeral, I donated the waffle maker.” I wipe a lone tear from my cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t usually get emotional like this around other people. And I’ve never told anyone that story before.”
Maverick’s eyes widen. “Not your ex?”
I shake my head. “Craig and I talked a lot. But mostly about work-related stuff. In college, we talked about our career goals. We were well-matched in that way. But other parts of me suffered.”
“What parts?” Maverick’s tone deepens.
I wave a hand in the air. “You know—emotionally.”And sexually. My face heats. “Among other things.”
Maverick rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Those parts of you deserve attention too, Hannah.”
He studies my face in a way that makes me squirm. Like he’s undressing me without even laying a hand on me.
“Hello!” The server—another bubbly blonde with a penchant for looking only at my companion—appears with our pizza and two mugs of beer on a tray.
“Here you go!” She flashes Maverick a blindingly-white smile as she crowds close to his side of the booth. “Can I get you anything else?”
He pointedly shifts his gaze to me. “Hannah? You need anything?”
“Red pepper flakes?” I ask her.
The server purses her lips and nods. “Be right back.”
