Page 51 of Maverick

Aw shit. See? Screwed.

17

MAVERICK

The apartment feels different with Cadence and Nan here. It's been an adjustment having two new people in my space, but it's a good adjustment. Life seems to linger in every room now. I know they're trying to keep their things in their rooms, but stuff is slowly starting to appear out of thin air—a basket of yarn, a soft blanket, a sweater that smells like Cadence. And every time I spot them, a happy wave fills me.

I've been alone for way too long.

Yeah, I'm focused on Cadence, but damn if having Tess around hasn't been nice. I never had a grandma, so I don't have much to compare her to, but I think she's gotta be top-ranked.

Nan's nocturnal kitchen raids gave me a few scares at first. My soul left my body the night I stumbled out of bed, half-asleep, and ran into her in the middle of the kitchen.

She slapped her hand on her chest, and yelled, "Jesus Christ on a cracker. I nearly peed my pants."Me too lady, me too. But those midnight encounters have become a strange sort of ritual for us. We'll sit at the island, nursing mugs of cocoa or tea, and just...talk. She's lived a lot of life, and I like hearing her storiesabout everything from her friends at the community center to her true crime podcasts.

And then there's Cadence.

Just thinking about her makes my heart start a rattling rumble in my chest. Having her here, under the same roof, it's both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I get to see her every day, even if it's only for a few minutes. But a curse because I can't act on what I feel. Because I'm feeling more and more like she is it for me. This isn't a crush, or an obsession, or anything temporary. It's bigger. It's more.

And her grandma is almost always in the room with us. Yeah, she heads out during the day, disappearing on the bus. Any time I offer to get her a car, she looks at me like I'm out of my mind and waves her hand at me. I don't like that she's out there by herself, but as she pointed out, she's lived in this city for sixty years and damned well knows how to get where she's going.

It doesn't help that Cadence and I have completely different schedules. My admittedly crazy workload means I'm often gone before she's awake and home long after she's asleep. We brush up against each other in the entryway or at the fridge, exchanging brief smiles and hellos that never feel like enough. Too often, I find myself standing there, trying to hang onto the feel of her, watching her walk away.

I’m starting to wonder if she's avoiding me on purpose. I catch glimpses of her sometimes, ducking out of a room just as I enter, or suddenly becoming engrossed in her phone when I walk by. It stings a little, but I get it. This situation is complicated. We're trying to navigate uncharted waters, to find a way to coexist without crossing any lines.

But god, there are moments when all I want to do is cross those lines. When she laughs at something Nan says and her whole face lights up, or when she's curled up on the couch with a book, looking so soft and inviting. In those moments, I have tophysically stop myself from going to her, from brushing the hair out of her face and tracing the curve of her smile with my thumb.

I keep reminding myself that I'm in it for the long haul. That eventually, Cadence and Nan will find their own place and move out. And as much as the thought of coming home to an empty apartment again makes my chest ache, I know it's for the best. Because right now, living with the woman I'm falling for but can't have...it's a special kind of torture. And once she’s moved out, I can makemyfucking move.

Seriously, how would it even work to date while she lives here? I can just picture cornering her in the kitchen one night, sneaking a kiss, and having Nan toddle into the room for a cup of tea and catching us. I've gone and moved in the woman I'm falling for, and her built-in cockblock of a grandmother.

Not my smartest move.

I slipinto the apartment well past midnight, my body heavy with the weight of the day. The living room is dark, but there's a soft glow coming from the kitchen. I'm expecting Nan, but I freeze in my tracks when the reason for the permanent ache in my chest lifts her head and smiles at me.

She's perched on a stool at the counter, dressed in those damn leggings that hug her curves in all the right ways, and a t-shirt that's seen better days. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and there's a smudge of something on her cheek. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"Hey," I say, my voice rough with exhaustion and something else I don't want to name.

She smiles and gives me a funny little wave, half a grilled cheese sandwich in her hand. "Oh, hey. Late night?"

I nod, dropping my jacket on the counter and yank my tie the rest of the way off. "You could say that. You?"

She takes a bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "The usual. Lots of dogs, not enough hands."

"Are you short on volunteers? You could have called me."

"And what? You'd leave your really demanding job to come and walk the dogs with me?"

Yes, I would.She hasn't realized it yet, but I'd do almost anything for her.

But I don't tell her that. Instead, I shrug and smile. "I could have given you a pep talk."

She throws back her head, laughing, the light bouncing off the blonde strands of her hair, and sinking into the dark roots. "You're not a blonde!"

Her eyebrows wing up. "Um…no. We talked about that already, didn't we?"

"Right no, sorry. It's just, I guess I do remember you from when we met, a little. I remember a dark haired woman with a big laugh."

---