Page 17 of Spurred On

“I’m so sorry. I’m sure you know my dad died when I was young too. So I get it. It makes you tough but in the worst of ways. If you ever need an ear to talk to, I’m here. That isn’t something someone should go through alone.”

We’ve been living together for a few weeks, but this is the first time I’ve seen this side to him. A side to him that makes me a little nervousbecause I’m finding myself not only attracted to him physically but on a level I never thought would be possible. He might be a pain in the ass, but his heart and intentions are gold.

I nod my head in agreement to what he said, but he can’t see the motion. He’s right. Pieces of me died that night, and I think they were all the soft, delicate parts. In their place, a darker feeling took root. Because at that moment, my childhood was over, and the reality of the world was blaring bright in my face. I was thrust into adulthood before I was really ready, but I made it. It’s kind of nice being able to talk about this with someone who truly gets it.

I worked my ass off before school to have a good amount saved. I had to take some extra out from student loans for living expenses, which will inevitably come back to bite me. But I was twenty-two and doing it all on my own. The debt will be worth it someday. I’ll get to have a career of saving lives. I wasn’t able to save those who mattered most, but maybe I will be able to save someone else's favorite person. Maybe then my heart won't feel like it’s constantly bleeding. A sore spot that never quite healed. Death will do that, linger like an unwanted pest.

“Thanks, Mav. I’m sorry, too. But you seem to be doing really well. I am sure he would be proud.” My hand rests on his back; part of me doesn’t want to move it and break the contact. I never thought I would like such a simple touch, but with this conversation, I find myself wanting to be even closer to him, that draw to him is just getting stronger.

I don’t miss the way he grunts in response. Making me wonder what’s going on in that head of his.

We sit and chat for a while; I find myself laughing more than I care to admit. I don’t know if he has ever taken life super seriously, while I have taken the exact opposite approach. He seems happy, and it makes me wonder if I really have been pushing it too hard. Been too closed off for too long.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen The Longest Ride?” He scoffs at me like not having watched this movie was some sort of egregious crime.

“Uhm, I don’t know. I was busy in school and didn’t really have the time.”

“We’re going to fix that right now.” He has to practically roll off the bed with how sore his body is, the wash rags falling to the floor as he stands.

“You need to rest.” I get off the bed and grab the washcloths, putting them in the laundry hamper next.

He pays me no mind. “Nope, I need to make some popcorn.” He picks up the remote from his side of the bed. “Here’s the remote,” he tosses it to me from his bed stand, “find the movie and put it on.”

“Fine, but take the ibuprofen while you’re up. I promise you will thank me for it.”

“Deal,” he says over from the kitchen, the crinkle of the plastic wrapper from the popcorn lets me know he was one hundred percent serious.

I go over to my futon to get comfy. He looks over at me from the kitchen with a brow quirked. “What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Going to watch the movie?”

“I promise I don’t bite. You can sit on my bed, it’s closer to the TV.”

I nod and walk back over. Something about laying in his bed watching a movie just feels different. There’s an odd little feeling coming over me. Damn, am I nervous to watch a movie with him? If I can keep my distance, I don’t feel the pull to him as bad. But side by side? That’s when things get fuzzy. It isn’t fair that he is so damn attractive. And it turns out he isn’t a complete dumbass like I originally thought. But what does it matter? In a few months, we will go our separate ways like this never happened. So I sit and lift the blankets for him to get under when he returns. We can be married and be friends. The lines don’t have to get blurry. It will be easier for us both.

I wonder how many times I will have to tell myself that over time? My thoughts come to a halt when he presses play. His arm slides over my back, and I freeze.

“I can move my arm if you want, but this feels more comfortable.” His voice comes out in a nervous wobble. At least I’m not the only one feeling a little bit shaken.

I all but choke on my words. “It’s fine.”

But it isn’t fine, and the butterflies in my stomach are from the excitement of the movie. Not my roomie slash husband. And I don’t lean into him because I like the feel of his presence. Nope. Denial is such a fun place to be.

Chapter 12

Ava

I’m beginning to realize living with Mav will be difficult for a slew of reasons I originally deemed impossible. Every single day, my perception of Maverick gets a little more cloudy. Ever since I went all nursemaid on him a week ago, we’ve been spending more time together. Every night he’s home, we crawl into his bed and watch a movie together. The closer I am to him, the harder it is to fight this attraction. I’m stuck in the middle of who I thought he was and who I'm learning he is. A little piece of me is freaking out because I can’t catch feelings for him, I just can't, and a large piece of me wishes Erin would freaking call me back already. I need to talk this out.

Also, I’m learning that being unemployed, hours away from your friends, and having no friends here is the most boring thing in the world. And since I don’t really want to spend extra money, driving back and forth as much as I want to wouldn’t be smart either. I am hoping I’ll get the call soon that my background check has cleared, and I can quit lying around the cabin like a blob. My only excitement is the bimonthly check-ins the court has with us. They check in, making sure we’re still living together and we’re all still safe. Deep down to my bones, I know Maverick would never hurt me.

The good news about being bored out of my mind is that the place is spotless. And I’m getting in really good shape from all the walks I take up and down the road since it’s the only place the snow is plowed.Hopefully, late spring will bring more sun and less snow. Though it has been getting better, they say we are only in for a few more storms before spring blooms.

My phone rings and the screen lights up with a picture of Erin and me from college. It’s my favorite of us. Goofy crooked grins, pimples, terrible hair, and all. “Took you long enough,” I spit out.

“Sorry, some of us have jobs,” she teases, and I can’t help but laugh.

Standing up, I start pacing the house. What little of it there is. “Bitch. I technically have a job, they just won’t let me work.”

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