“No, you listen. Are you saying we’ll just pretend this didn’t happen? We pretend you weren’t trembling in my arms, whimpering my name as you came?” I leaned into her space, putting my hands on the car door and raising my brows.
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Summer matched my movement, leaning closer and moving her hands from mine. “I’m just trying to be honest with you. I spent too many wasted years hoping to finally be happy with my life, and I made a promise to myself that I’d no longer kowtow with half-truths and placating remarks, no matter how unpleasant the truth was.”
“So, you know my truth? Is that it?” I said. My temper was razor-thin, held on by the lingering reminder of her hand on mine.
“Not even close, and nothing good is going to come from repeating myself. So how about I repeat your words, hmm, Mav?”
She crossed her arms and leaned close enough for me to count the smattering of freckles on her cheeks. My eyes widened, and before I could stop myself, I spouted words I didn’t mean.
“You’re right, I don’t know anything about you and have no business sticking my nose into something that doesn’t concern me. So… goodnight.”
“Fine. Good. Get out of my way, Mav.” She stepped into her car, not looking at me, and my hands went to the top of her door again, preventing her from closing it.
Dammit. I shouldn’t have said that. And now I couldn’t leave things with her this way.
“Move, Maverick.”
“Wait a second,” I said, almost pleading with her to let me backtrack and redo the last ninety seconds.
“No. I don’t think I will.”
Her words were harsh, almost hissed out. And even though I wanted to go to her, bending down so we were eye level, and apologize for my knee-jerk reaction, I didn’t. I backed up, shoving my hands in my front pocket and watching as she slammed her car door and drove away.
Should I follow? Just to make sure she gets home safe?
No.
If she saw my truck anywhere near the condo, I couldn’t imagine how she would react. I kicked the stones along the gravel parking lot as I made my way to my truck, groaning in frustration.
I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, wondering how I could have fucked up so badly—but I knew. I let my mouth spout off vicious nonsense before my brain could catch up and tell me to stop.
The reflection in the rearview mirror mocked me, and I stopped at a red light, dropping my head to my chest. I prayed I hadn’t completely ruined whatever it was we had. But as I thought about her pitifully hurt expression, I lost hope, letting my mind drift to Autumn and something I read after she passed.
Sometimes we hold on to guilt because it’s the last thing that connects us to the person who’s gone. We don’t want to let go because it means there’s nothing left to hold on to. But until you truly let go, you can’t remember. You can’t cherish the good, and if you don’t cherish the good, then what was the point of remembering?
Maybe that was bullshit, and maybe that was some profound truth I’d yet to embrace. Either way, I knew one thing with clarity—I had to let go so I could remember the good. And, perhaps, finally move on.
Chapter 18
Itossed and turned,giving up on sleep a little after four in the morning and tugging my fluffy purple robe over my shoulders. I knotted the middle and slipped my feet into a pairof fuzzy slippers before stumbling downstairs and turning on the coffeemaker. The dark roasted beans filled the kitchen with the tantalizing smell of fresh-brewed java and the promise of caffeine. Taking the skim milk out of the fridge, I placed it on the counter, then opened the sliding glass door to the backyard, leaning against the frame.
The purple-tinted world slowly awoke outside, and for a moment, I felt insanely jealous at how much simpler life seemed from this perspective. There were no meetings with lawyers or doctor visits. No conference calls that could have been a two-sentence email. And absolutelynomaddening men who had my feelings so knotted, I could scale a mountain.
I closed my eyes, listening to the breeze blowing through the pine trees and the leaves rustling through the grass. Although the air was cool and my mood sour, I turned back to the awaiting coffee, adding milk and too much artificial sweetener to a large mug before stepping onto the porch. Cinching my robe tighter and sitting on the steps, I exhaled, hoping I’d remember to add ‘buying patio furniture’ to the never-ending list of things to do.
The red pepper-shaped lights strung around the awning of Bev’s porch drew my attention, and I rested my head on my knees, looking over.
The inviting yard with its thriving garden and hilariously accurate penis-shaped topiaries made me smile as my traitorous thoughts turned back to Maverick. Not that I’d been able to think of much else since I stumbled home last night, practically vibrating with anger and desire.
I’d never experienced such a mind-altering kiss. And the raised love bite on my neck proved the attraction was not one-sided.
I recalled when Bev pulled me aside toward the end of our girls’ brunch the other week and explained the heartbreaking reason for Maverick’s personality quirks. I’d fluctuated betweenwanting to pull his head onto my lap, stroking his hair while murmuring words of quiet understanding, and staying far, far away.
His defensive words last night hurt far more than I showed, and I swiped an angry tear that slid down my cheek—knowing he spoke the truth.
What did we really know about one other?
Not favorite colors or types of music.
