Page 11 of Best Part of Me

Okay, maybesavesisn’t the correct word. Because I’m not ready to talk about what happened. Or why I made the decision I did. I guess when I saw Maverick on that motorcycle, telling me to hop on, I thought he was the perfect person to rescue me. Because of all people, Maverick wouldn’t make me explain.

Besides him and Jones being best friends since they were kids, Maverick and I have always had a strained relationship. We’ve been close. But not too close. Jones made sure of that. He’d gone as far as a blood-brother pact when they were kids, assuring Maverick would never put a hand on me. Or put any body part on me, for that matter. That’s why it feels wrong to be here with him now.

I drag my finger through a thin layer of dust on his bookcase. Finding this sort of flaw somehow humanizes Maverick and gives me a comforting feeling I’ve been missing from him in quite a while. I don’t want to look at him while I say what’s on my mind.

So I don’t.

Instead, I focus on the dust. “You know when you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach like you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life?”

“Yeah,” the word growls out and causes me to turn and glance at him over my shoulder. “I got that feeling today. When I stopped my bike and told you to hop on.”

Even though he slides me a delicious grin that sets my skin on fire, my brain stumbles over his response. “Are you that afraid of Jones?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” He scoffs. “If I was, I’d never have saved you today. Or brought you back to my place.” He spreads his legs, leaning back on one hand and taking a drink of his whiskey.

I suddenly feel parched and want to drinkhimin. Screw the whiskey. The way his legs are sprawled, open and welcoming. The way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat with each swallow of his drink. The grin on his lips and the loose tie at his neck have me nearly in a puddle on the floor.

Damn it. Why does something so wrong have to look so good? If he and Jones weren’t friends, if they’d never made that stupid pact, if he was even the slightest bit interested in me, maybe I’d be willing to take the risk and act on my feelings.

But Maverick burned me one last time the night of my engagement party.

“True,” I finally manage to say.

“I’ll try to stall him. But we both know it won’t last long.”

“Thanks.” I finish my whiskey and already wish I had more.

After the havoc I caused today, it’s gonna take a whole hell of a lot more than one glass of whiskey.

It’s like Maverick reads my mind because he stands and shuffles into the kitchen, returning with the bottle and refilling my glass before I can hardly form another coherent sentence.

“I don’t want to go home tonight,” I blurt.

He tilts his head, his eyes moving over me with deep consideration while twisting the lid on the bottle. “I’m leaving in the morning on that road trip for work. But you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

My chest deflates at the reminder that he’s leaving.

“And as beautiful as you look in that dress, it doesn’t look very comfortable.”

My lips twitch. Did Maverick Mendes just say I was beautiful? His words nearly kill me dead. But he’s not wrong about the dress being uncomfortable. I’ve already had it on for so many hours the scratchy fabric is chaffing my armpits. I chew my bottom lip and adjust the top of the dress.

He rubs at the back of his neck. “If you want to stay over, I can get you something to change into.”

We lock eyes, and heat floods my body in one giant wave.Stay over?I suck in a breath and wonder why it’s suddenly so fucking hot in Maverick’s apartment. Just the idea of staying the night has my childhood fantasies running wild in my head.

“What about Jones?”

“Let me worry about Jones.”

I spin my mom’s wedding band I’ve been wearing on my right ring finger for the last eighteen months. It’s a nervous tick I picked up. “I mean... if you don’t mind. If I’m not going to be a burden.”

He exhales an exhausted breath before he says, “Sunshine, you could never be a burden.”

The way he says my nickname, all growly and low, sends my toes curling. I’ve never loved it more than I do right now. He takes a big swallow of his whiskey before he brushes past me and goes into his bedroom.

I hurry and text Rosie. If she knew I was in Ladies’-Man-Mav’s apartment and didn’t tell her, she would lose her fucking mind. Who am I kidding? She’s still going to lose her fucking mind.

Me

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