I nod, trying to convince myself that’s true. But I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something. That Carter’s real plans aren’t documented in selfies and workout photos.
Which means we’re back to square one.
“Come on,” I say, standing up and brushing concrete dust off my jeans. “I need to return Carter’s coat and phone before he gets suspicious.”
“How are you gonna explain keeping Carter’s jacket overnight?” Rowan asks.
I shrug. “I’ll tell him I was too busy dealing with the sprinkler chaos to find him after the gala. That I took it home to get it dry-cleaned as an apology for leaving so quickly.”
“You’re scary when you’re scheming,” Sebastian observes.
“Good,” I reply. “Maybe that’ll come in handy when dealing with Mr. CEO Mindset.”
Because even if his phone was a bust, I’m not giving up. Carter Mills thinks he can intimidate me, manipulate me, and use me to get to Maverick.
He’s about to learn just how wrong he is.
Even if I have to figure it out one boring selfie at a time.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rumor has it, she's losing her mind.
Ainsley
The mac and cheese tastes like cardboard, which is a crime against humanity because this is Maverick’s one cheat day of the week, and he’s been looking forward to this trashy dinner all month. But I can barely force myself to swallow, my throat tight with anxiety that has nothing to do with processed cheese and everything to do with the fact that I’m officially the worst girlfriend in the history of relationships.
“Final answer?” Regis Philbin’s voice drifts from the TV, but I’m not really watching. I’m just staring at the screen, fork suspended halfway to my mouth, replaying this afternoon’s disaster on loop.
“You’re not eating,” Maverick observes, twirling his fork through the orange noodles with way more enthusiasm than anyone should have for boxed pasta. “Did I overcook it?”
“No, it’s perfect,” I lie, forcing another bite. “Just tired.”
He studies me with those sharp blue eyes that see too much. “Long day at the lab?”
“Something like that.” I push the mac around my bowl, creating little cheese tornadoes that match the chaos in my stomach. On screen, a contestant from Ohio is debating whether to use a lifeline on a question about marine biology that I couldanswer in my sleep, but I can’t focus on anything except the memory of Carter’s face when I handed him back his jacket.
“Enjoy the gala?” His voice was deceptively casual as he checked his jacket pockets with surgical precision.
“It was... educational.” I tried to keep my voice steady while my heart hammered against my ribs.
His fingers lingered on his phone, and for a terrifying second, I thought he knew. Thought he could somehow sense that I’d violated his digital sanctuary and come up empty-handed.
“I hope you learned something useful,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “It would be a shame if all that effort was for nothing.”
The way he’d said it… like he knew exactly what I’d been trying to do and found it amusing. Like I was a child playing dress-up in adult clothes, thinking I could outsmart him.
“Ainsley.”
I blink, refocusing on Maverick’s concerned face. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you wanted to go out tonight. Maybe catch a movie? That new thriller you mentioned is playing at the drive-in.” He reaches across the small table to brush his thumb over my knuckles. “We could make popcorn, steal a blanket from the couch that you refuse to let me replace...”
The sweetness in his voice makes my chest ache. This is what normal couples do; they eat dinner together, watch game shows, and plan spontaneous date nights. They don’t lie to each other about blackmail schemes and stolen phones and the very real possibility that everything is about to explode in their faces.
“I’m not really in the mood,” I say, pulling my hand back to grab my water glass. “Maybe we could just… stay in? Go to bed early?”
His expression shifts—just slightly, but I catch it. The tiny crease between his brows that means he’s recalibrating, trying to figure out what’s wrong without pushing too hard. It’s the same look he gets when his heart monitor starts acting up and he’s deciding whether to acknowledge it or pretend everything’s fine.