Maverick glances back at me. “You okay?”
I smile brightly. “Yep.”
Goodbye, Kia. Love you.
As we grab clean plates and start to wander through the buffet, I watch how a professional athlete fills a plate when the food is unlimited.
“This is amazing,” he says to me as he insists on adding a second strip of bacon to my plate. “I’m starved.”
“Because you actually worked out this morning,” I say. “All I’ve done is attempt to clear my hangover.”
While I’m talking, he tosses two pancakes onto my plate.
I try to shove them back to him, but he just walks onward to the bin of hash browns.
“Hey! Mr. Court.” I hurry to catch him. “Not all of us play a sport for a living.”
“You need to eat well this morning,” he says. “We’ve got a long day of traveling ahead of us.”
I do love a good breakfast. Craig hated to eat before work; all he ever wanted was a coffee and maybe a bowl of fruit. Because we rode together, I got used to eating what he ate and scheduling my meals around his free time.
Eating like this with Maverick—where we’re putting pretty much whatever the hell we want on our plates and after nine a.m.—is refreshing.
We take seats at a private table in the corner of the large cafeteria-style dining area. I’m worried he’s going to bring up how I propositioned him last night, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he surprises me by chatting about easy topics like where he’s going to live in Chicago and what kinds of things his little brothers are into. Surprising me is something I’m starting to learn is typical of Maverick.
He doesn’t often do the expected thing. And usually, the unexpected is far better than what I would have predicted.
“Do all your brothers want to be football players like you?” I ask him curiously.
He rolls his shoulders. “They say they do. But they’re still so young. I want them to follow their own dreams and not feel boxed into following mine.”
“You’re a good big brother,” I say. “I always wanted a sibling. But only one that I could be friends with when we grew up. My roomie from college is barely on speaking terms with her brother. It sounds awful.”
“Sibling relationships can be challenging,” Maverick agrees. “I’m a lot older than mine, which makes it easier maybe.”
I’m so focused on him and what he’s saying that I don’t notice anyone standing next to me until I hear…
“Happy birthday, Hannah! Happy birthday to you!”
Four servers keep singing cheerfully to me as one places a huge waffle covered in whipped cream and with a single lit candle sitting in the center.
I gasp and look at Maverick.
“How did you arrange this?” I furrow my brow. “Wait—was it when you said you were going to the restroom?”
He just winks. “I wanted you to have a birthday waffle.”
It’s the kindest thing anyone’s done for me on my birthday since my parents died.
Emotion clogs my throat as I just stare back at Maverick like a fool.
“Make a wish.” He gestures to the candle. “Ask for something good.”
I have no idea what to wish for at this moment.
But I know who I wish were here. And even if it’s impossible, I’m going to send up a hello anyway.
