Page 16 of One Night Collision

His smile slips, just for a second. "She always did have quite the imagination. You'll find that out soon enough."

"What I've found," I say, standing to my full height, which puts me a good three inches above him, "is that Maggie deserves a hell of a lot better than what you gave her. Now, if you're done wasting my time with this sad little alpha male routine, I've got places to be."

I move to leave, but he steps in front of me, dropping all pretense of friendliness. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you, Sizemore? Playing the white knight for my leftovers. That bikini she was wearing at Cody's party? I bought her that."

In an instant, I'm back in high school, that same rage bubbling up that got me suspended three times my senior year. But I'm not that kid anymore. I've learned that sometimes the most devastating blows are delivered with a smile.

"The fuck you did. I know you screwed her over with the divorce, but you know what, Calvin? I feel sorry for you. Because Maggie is moving on, building something real, while you're skulking around courtrooms trying to intimidate her new boyfriend. It's pathetic, man."

Am I her boyfriend?

His face darkens. "You don't know what you're getting into. She's not as innocent as she plays."

"Neither am I," I reply, my voice dropping to a dangerous quiet. "So let me make this crystal clear: Stay away from Maggie. Whatever game you're playing, it's over."

I brush past him, making sure my shoulder connects with his hard enough to make him step back. It's petty, but satisfying.

"She'll run back to me eventually," he calls after me. "They always do."

I don't give him the satisfaction of a response or even a backward glance. But as I push through the courtroom doors, hiswords echo in my head. Not because I believe them, but because I wonder if Maggie does.

Last night, holding her as she slept, I realized how much I want this—want her—in my life. But the shadow of Calvin Farnsworth is bigger than I expected. What kind of hooks does he still have in her? What scars has he left that I can't see?

As I step outside into the sunshine, I pull out my phone and dial Maggie's number. It rings three times before her voice comes through, warm and slightly breathless.

"Hey, you," she says, and just like that, my mood lifts.

"Hey, yourself," I reply, leaning against the courthouse pillars. "You busy tonight?"

She hesitates just long enough to make me nervous. "I have that community meeting about the park renovation. We're setting up flowers for it. They're supposed to help remind people how pretty it can be when there are actually flowers to be had in the park. But I'm free after eight?"

"Perfect. I'll pick you up. There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Sounds serious," she says, a note of concern creeping into her voice.

"Not serious," I assure her. "Just important."

Because whatever Calvin thinks, whatever history they share, I'm not backing down. Maggie's worth fighting for, and I've never been one to walk away from a fight I believe in.

"I'll see you at eight, then," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"It's a date," I confirm, already counting down the hours.

As I walk to my truck, I feel lighter, more certain. Calvin Farnsworth might think he knows Maggie, might think he has some claim on her still. But what he doesn't understand is that some people are worth waiting for, worth being patient with.

And Maggie? She's worth everything.

Chapter

Twelve

Maggie

I hang up the phone, but I stand there with it in my hand, staring at it like it’s a snake about to strike. Something important to talk about is just vague enough to ratchet up all my insecurities. Is it lawyer speak for “we need to talk”? Is he getting ready to dump me? Of course, that implies we’re together. Not that we are. Or aren’t. We’ve never actually spelled out what we are to one another.

“You’re spiraling.”

I look up to see Hannah staring at me. “What?”

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