Page 26 of Tattered
Flipping the notebook shut, I hold it against my chest and peek up at him. The sunlight behind him makes it difficult to see. He steps closer, using his body to shield the light from my eyes.
“Yeah. What are you doing here?”
“I was driving down to meet up with Graham and saw you on your skateboard,” he stops, looking out onto the water as if he’s lost in thought before his eyes drag back down to mine. “When I saw you stop here, I waited, not sure if I should approach you. But then you took out your notebook and I couldn’t help myself. Can I see?”
His hand reaches out, pointing to the notebook now pressed against my chest. My heart rate picks up and my palms turn sweaty as I glance down, not sure what to say or how to respond.
I think he senses my hesitation, dropping his hand to his side. My eyes dart to his. His jaw is set, making his expression unreadable.
“I’m not sure you deserve the right anymore,” I croak.
My words hit him like a punch to the gut. Running his palm over his jaw, his eyes focus on the ground.
“I guess you’re right,” he says, looking up at me.
I almost regret my words when I see the hurt on his face.
“Listen, about the other night, I know I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking—”
Holding my hand up, I stop him. “Maverick, I don’t think we owe each other an explanation anymore. I mean, you said it, you had no intentions of moving back to Everton. Your focus is on your job, I get that, because right now that’s where mine is, too. Let’s just leave this at what it is, a really great week with two friends who were catching up.”
His nostrils flare at the mention of us being friends and I can’t help but feel the same. Calling what is between us friendship is bullshit. There isn’t a bone in my body that wants to be friends with Maverick, but I know that I love and care about him enough that if that’s the only capacity I can have him, I’m willing to accept him.
The growl that emanates from deep within his chest has my head jolting up toward him as he falls to his knees down in front of me.
“You didn’t let me finish and I’ll be damned if you think that’s what I want. I may not have had intentions of moving back to Everton, but it doesn’t mean I never planned to come back for you.”
Reaching his hands out, he runs them down my forearms toward mine. Letting the notebook fall back into my lap, I look up at him. He’s struggling with what he’s about to say but I don’t stop him.
“After you left, I got a call.” He stops, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a stuttered breath. He’s on the verge of tears and this is a side of Maverick I’ve never seen.
“When I found out my dad died, I left my platoon early. My sergeant told me they were only expecting it to be a few more days before they would be coming home. Otherwise, I would’ve had my dad’s funeral sooner and left to head back out with them. Anyway, the call I got was from my sergeant. I guess some of the guys were on surveillance duty when the Humvee they were riding in hit a roadside bomb. Two of them didn’t make it and the other two are in critical care. I don’t know—” he pauses, squeezing his eyes shut again not wanting to voice the words out loud.
Setting my notebook down, I move to climb onto his lap and I’m grateful he lets me. Wrapping my arms around him, I press my lips against his neck and send up a silent prayer of thanks. I know the reality of the situation because I’ve spent many nights lying awake at night thinking about getting the same news. The one saying something happened to him and he wouldn’t be making it home, at least not alive.
I feel Maverick’s body shake as the sobs rack through his body and my heart breaks for him. He’s felt so much loss in his life, it’s no wonder he struggles to let anyone close to him.
His arms wrap around my lower back, rubbing his fingers along the skin beneath my tank top. There is so much I want to say to him in that moment. I want him to know that I’m here for him, that I’m not going anywhere. There is another part of me that realizes that his dad dying saved his life, because he would’ve been there and the way he’s feeling now, could’ve been me.
“I need you to know I’m sorry,” he mutters, his words coming out broken.
“We don’t have to talk about that—” I say.
“No. We do,” he interrupts, stopping me as my eyes meet his. “I have been thinking this week, especially about my friends’ wives who are grieving the loss of their husbands. I want you to know I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go. I know how you felt when I left you because watching you go, I couldn’t do it. All of this has just reminded me that I can’t take us for granted. I love you; I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen years old and you flew past me on your skateboard nearly knocking me on my ass. I don’t care where I go or what I do because being with you is what will make me happy. I can live anywhere in this world because as long as I’m with you, I’m home.”
Tears fill my eyes. I bite down on my lower lip, struggling to keep my emotions in check. I’ve spent so many nights lying awake missing him. My heart and body have ached to have him with me, to hear those words pass his lips.
“It’s not my fault. You were the one who got in my way. You were following me around, even then.”
A grin breaks out across his face. I can’t help it. My heart warms as a curve lines my mouth, matching his.
Wrapping my hand around his neck, I run my thumb along the edge of his jaw. “I love you, too. I promise there is no one who will ever love you like I do.”
“Well, that’s good, because I don’t want anyone but you.”
I scoff, laughing. “You better fucking not,” I murmur as my lips crash down on his. His arms wrap around me tight, holding me close to him.
