Page 79 of IOU

“What?” His brows furrow.

I wave off his concern. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just saying you’re not such a bad guy after all, Maverick Lexington.”

I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek. “And I’m going to miss you when I move out.”

Those stormy eyes flash with an intensity I’ve never seen from Maverick. At least when he’s not been pissed.

His hands graze up my waist and over my shoulders until they rest at my cheeks. His jaw ticks as he watches me watching him. Gah, he really is stunning.

And then he growls out, “Fuck it,” before smashing his lips to mine.

Rumor has it she mugged him at the grocery store.

“I’m ready to leave.”

Why is he talking?

Pulling his face closer, I smother any other words he attempts saying. Currently, my legs are wrapped around his waist, my back against the wall of the Crush It room that we’ve completely abandoned. Maverick and I both silently agreed that grinding against the wall with his tongue down my throat was way better at releasing tension than smashing old electronics.

“Ainsley.” He tries prying me off and setting me on my feet.

I have no shame. “Nooooo.”

His chest rumbles with laughter. “Not here. Let’s go home.”

Home.

Yes, home sounds good.

Releasing my legs from their vice grip, I allow Maverick to place me on my feet, which honestly, are a little wobbly, but they manage to keep me upright and that’s all I’m asking at this point.

“You good?” he asks, tucking away his massive boner.

It’s tacky if I ask if he wants to disappear into a bathroom stall, right? “Not really, but I’ll manage until we get home,” I answer honestly.

I exhale a breath of pent-up frustration. No sense in lying. I want this man. I’ve wanted him since I used his shampoo and slept on his amazingly comfortable sofa. I don’t even care that this may be a one-time thing. I can live with that.

“Let’s go. We need food first,” he clips out.

I groan out something that sounds a lot like blatant disappointment. “I’m good without food,” I add just in case he is too.

He pulls us out of the room. “We’ll pick up a frozen mac and cheese for afterward then, yeah?”

He’s my spirit animal.

Well, not my animal. He’s my spirit human and I might just have to stay indebted to him so he can never get rid of me.

A million and three years later we arrive home. Maverick has been quiet and I wonder if he’s come to his senses. Let’s be honest, I’m a mess fresh off the breakup boat. I’m not key banging material.

Keys are shoved into my hand as he shuffles the bags on his arms. “You want me to unlock the door?” I ask. Am I a little shocked? Yes. He’s never let me unlock the door or even have a key.

“Do you want to hold these bags of macaroni and cheese while I do it?” he asks sarcastically.

Right. His hands are full, which is totally his fault. He said to get whatever I wanted at the store. What I wanted was ice cream and dick with a side of mac and cheese. So here we are.

“You should have paced yourself with the junk food. I read you should be eating a heart healthy diet,” I tease. I really did go overboard. What can I say? Destroying things had my appetite through the roof.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Open the door, smartass.”

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