Page 41 of IOU

He’s impossible.

“I mean, is she one of your clients? Like me?”

He makes an amused noise. “Like you?”

I nod. “A client?”

A sinister grin forms, and he leans on the table like he’s trying to get closer to tell me a secret. “Remember what I told you the rules are for being my client?”

Ew. I think this is a tricky question. “Can I admit that I may have forgotten a few minor details?” I was pretty worked up that day. I can’t even remember what I was wearing and if I had eaten. Those few days blur together.

“Let me remind you then,” he says all sultry and—

“What? No! Why are you giving me another card? I didn’t ask for a favor.”

He slides the ace of hearts across the table, clenching the cap of the marker in between his teeth just like last time, and scribbles out IOU before placing the cap back. “You never talk about me or my favors, remember?”

I do now.

“But I was just talking to you about it,” I argue.

“Never in public.”

But that doesn’t make sense. “Don’t you do business in public?”

He puts the marker back into his pocket. “Sometimes.”

“And ...”

He doesn’t smile. “My rules.”

“So that’s just it. You can make up the rules, and I’m just supposed to do whatever you say and be indebted up to my earrings?”

“Sounds about right.”

It sounds unfair to me.

“Why were you cooking for me tonight?”

He’s changing the subject, and I’m not sure I want to. Sure, I don’t want to end up with yet another IOU, but didn’t I already try to explain this, and he cut me off?

I let out a deep sigh; talking to Maverick is exhausting.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know it hasn’t been easy living with me for the past couple of days. I’ve been crying and just a total disaster. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and that I appreciate you helping me get my stuff from the apartment. I know it was a deal and all that—” I wave the comment away in case he tries explaining the rules again. “But I appreciate your kindness nonetheless.”

“So, you thought cooking boxed mac and cheese would be thanks enough?”

“Are you making fun of me?” Seriously. Is that a smile on his face? I think it is!

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re laughing.”

“I’m not laughing.”

Yes, he is, and it’s cute. Really, really cute.

“I’m not that great of a cook, and well, Tucker was always the one who cooked in our relationship, and I noticed you mainly just have a bunch of fruits and vegetables in the refrigerator, so I thought I would cook something warm and yummy for you.”

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