Page 34 of Maverick

I dried off and wrapped a second towel around me, padding out to the sink. The mirror was fogged up, so I wiped it clean to find my reflection, wide green eyes, damp hair plastered to my cheeks, mouth drawn in a tense line.

What does he even see in me?

I wasn’t some sexy bombshell with perfect curves. Though I had enough hips to fill out my jeans and then some, they weren’t perfect by any means. They were lumpy and dimpled. I wasn’t a patched-in biker babe with tattoos or killer confidence. I was just…Lexi. The nerdy, grieving lawyer whose mother had just died.

And yet, he was helping me. He’d stuck around even after the bullets, the drama, the tears.

My phone, which I’d left on the edge of the counter, gave a faint ding. I snatched it up, heart lurching. A text from Nova:

Nova:We’re okay, at a hotel a bit farther into Texas. Phones died, just charged up. Sorry for the scare. We’ll meet in the morning. I’m so sorry, Lex. Stay safe.

A rush of relief flooded my chest.Thank God.She was safe.They were safe.No more anxious thoughts about her lying in a ditch somewhere.

I quickly typed back:

Me:It’s okay, just glad you’re safe. See you tomorrow.

Setting the phone down, I stared at my reflection again. “Okay, Lexi. You’re all alone with a biker who apparently can’t keep his eyes to himself.” I tried to sound stern, but my voice shook. “He’s trouble. Focus on staying alive, not hooking up.”

But that little voice that read romance novels day and night whispered,You like trouble. If this were a book, you’d have jumped him by now.

I growled at my own reflection. This was insanity. My mother had just been murdered. My best friend was missing until five seconds ago. Why thehellwas I even entertaining thoughts of jumping Maverick’s bones?

Steeling myself, I dressed in an old T-shirt and shorts, the only clean clothes I had left. My shirt read, “Morally Gray Men Give Me All the Feels” and my shorts might as well have been underwear, tight and thin. Taking a breath, I squared my shoulders and opened the bathroom door.

Only a weak lamp lit the dark motel room. Maverick stood near the window, shirtless, rummaging through a saddlebag on the small table. My gaze roamed over the large tattoo on his back, a biker patch, not the Road Monsters MC but possibly from the club he was in before. I couldn’t make out the words, so I focused on the muscles underneath his inked skin. I was swooning.

He turned at the sound of the door, catching me staring. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Sorry about earlier. I, uh, guess I panicked.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to eye his bare chest again. “No worries,” I mumbled, noticing my cheeks grow warm. “It’s your turn now, if you want to shower.”

He scratched the back of his head, looking oddly nervous. “Yeah. Definitely. I should probably… y’know, rinse off too.”

I stepped aside, giving him room to pass. As he brushed by, a wave of heat rolled off his skin. Suddenly, my throat was parched. He slipped into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. For a few seconds, I just stood there frozen by lust.

When I finally remembered how to move, I took stock of the room.One queen-sized bed.The corners were suspiciously saggy, but at least the sheets looked clean-ish. The same old romance-novel trope popped into my head. Only one bed. Oh no, how ever will we manage?

I almost laughed at how ridiculous it was. “Come on, Lexi, you’ve been studying this trope for years,” I muttered under my breath.

I thought,He’ll offer to sleep on the floor, you’ll protest, but he will anyway. In the middle of the night, something will happen, maybe danger, and you’ll both end up tangled in the sheets. I frowned at my own reflection in the dark TV screen.Well, not likely. Dead mother. Potential assassins. Real life is not a romance novel.

Still, a flutter stirred in my stomach. Would we share the bed tonight? Did Iwantto? A big part of me was absolutely terrified, physically and emotionally. I was a virgin, for one. And I was still reeling from losing Mom. But the memory of him barging into my shower made something ache low in my belly. I couldn’t deny it. I was fucking moist. I made a face at the word in my mind. No, I was dripping wet and not just from the shower.

Suddenly, Maverick’s muffled voice came from the bathroom. “Hey, Lexi?”

I jumped, crossing to the door. “Yeah?”

“I need some clean clothes,” he said. “Could you grab something from my bag?”

I froze, eyeing the saddlebag he’d been rummaging through. That washisbag. I’d stuffed it with my clothes in a hurry. Our packing situation was a disaster. “Uh, are you sure you have any in there? I think that’s all my stuff.”

“Just look, princess,” he called, voice echoing slightly in the tiled space.

I couldn’t stop a little flutter at the nickname. Biting my lip, I dug through the saddlebag. Sure enough, I only found my clothes, plus a random spare bullet or two, a first-aid kit,and some bandanas. And the kicker, a condom… Nothing that resembled boxers or jeans.

“Um… Maverick?” I pressed a hand to the bathroom door. “There’s, uh, nothing in here for you.”

“What?” His voice was muffled, but I heard frustration. “Shit. Maybe I left it all in your trunk before we hopped on the bikes.”

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