Page 97 of A Little Complicated

“Stop smiling at me,” she demands.

My grin widens. “What’s wrong with my smile?”

“Other than it being annoyingly perfect?” she quips. “Everything.” She throws her arms in the air and marches toward a tree at the edge of the property in hopes of hiding in the shade from the ruthless sun beating down on us.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I call.

“It means it’s another morsel.”

“A morsel?”

“Yeah. A stupid morsel.”

I chuckle in spite of myself and follow her toward the edge of the property. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me, Opie.”

“Morsels are little things like…your smile.”

“My smile?”

“Yes,” she huffs. “It messes with my head and confirms my decision to break up with your brother because his smile doesn’t do what your smile does. Which doesn’t even make sense, by the way. You guys are identical twins. Most people can’t even tell you apart, but my stupid heart? Yup. It’s well aware of the difference, and it isn’t fair.”

I sober slightly, her distressed rambling hitting me square in the chest. I’ve put her through so much. Dragged her through the dirt. Held things against her when I had no right to.

I’m an ass.

Scrubbing my hand over the top of my head, I admit, “You’re right. It isn’t fair.”

“He’s a good guy, Mav. He really is. He’s thoughtful and patient and understanding. Too understanding sometimes. He gave me everything I could ever want.” Her eyes slice to mine. “But you? You give me butterflies. You give me what I need—er,gaveme what I needed until you started acting like an asshole,” she clarifies. “And evenIcan’t understand the difference. The logic behind why I feel the way I do when, let’s be honest, there isn’t any logic to it in the first place.”

“Ophelia…”

“But I think that’s the most confusing part,” she continues. “Because, even when I recognize the ludicrousness of the situation, it doesn’t erase the fact I still need you, Maverick. Even when you refuse to give me all of you, the little morsels—the fucking crumbs—are still enough to make me come back for more each and every time and…” She licks her lips, her eyes turning hazy. “What does that say about me?”

“It says you’re too good for me.”

A breath of laughter slips out of her, but it’s tainted with sadness. Still, the little crumb of amusement brings her back to me instead of keeping her lost in her thoughts as she points out, “And not good enough for your brother.”

She’s too good for my brother, too, but I don’t tell her. Instead, I press her against the giant maple we’re hiding beneath, memorizing the feel of her curves as they mold to my front. When she doesn’t push me away, I grasp her waist, the last of my restraint snapping like a rubber band. My hands dip beneath the hem of her top. Her bare skin is soft and supple and warm. So fucking warm, I want to wrap her around me. Crawl under her skin the same way she’s crawled under mine.

“Maverick,” she whispers.

“I don’t wanna talk about my brother anymore.”

“Good, because neither do I.” Her eyes meet mine. “I want to know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Put your future aside and just…be.”

My brows pull down, and my hand stalls on her hip. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the way you don’t think about your future. How you can focus on the here and now without even considering the long-term repercussions or how they might affect you.”

I close my eyes. “Trust me, Goose. I think about them more than you know.”

“Then how do you fake it?” she pushes.

“I’m not faking anything. Not with you.”

---