I’ll be home later this evening. We’re on the bus now.
—
From:[email protected]
Subject: RE: Congratulations!
Lots of tabs on this one. Maybe I’ll tell you about it next time I see you.
Have a safe trip.
XO
Maisie
—
From:[email protected]
Subject: RE: Congratulations!
That can be arranged. See you later, Sunshine.
Have a good day.
Coach
CHAPTER 42
WILDER
I rereadthe text from my landlord again, feeling no less confused than I did the first time.
Mr. Hawthorne..
Ed here. Just wanted to let you know that there were some complaints from tenants this past weekend about a woman loitering around in the hallway outside your apartment. Not sure if you know who that could be, or what they would want, but thought I’d give you a heads up.
I have no fucking clue who that could be. Outside of Camila and Maisie, no one else knows where I live, so whoever it was must have had the wrong place.
I type a quick thank-you to the landlord and find myself checking yet again to see if Maisie responded to my text, but there’s nothing. No email either.
I spent the entire bus ride home half-ass watching game tape and attempting to make notes, but not being able to truly focus because, like most times as of late, my thoughts are on her.
I can’t get her out of my head.
And at this point, I’m not sure that I want to.
I think the only good thing in my life is Maisie.
I look forward to her sunshine smile, and Christ, those eyes, so blue, so damn bright that I’ve come to crave.
The last time I saw her was only three damn days ago, right before I left with the team to head to Arkansas for a three-day conference, yet there’s something in me that’s aching to see her again like it’s been far longer than a weekend.
It scares the fuck out of me, knowing the power she’s got over me, and she has no idea.
