Page 60 of Crazy Good
When I get to my bedroom I close the door and slump down the back of it, heaving a huge, disgusting sigh. The conversation was painful. Fixing things with Nash is supposed to make me feel better.Why doesn’t it?I wanted him to be the old Nash, that’s why. I didn’t want to find this reformed person that I wished he were years ago. No, this isn’t fair at all because so much has happened in between the scandal and now. Most importantly, I fell in crazy love. I wish I guarded my heart better
I take my time in the shower and take even longer choosing something to wear, my stomach no longer caring about food, my mind a mess of disproportionate madness. After fumbling through my closet and dresser for longer than is polite, I tie on my robe and head for the laundry room for the one chaste, unflattering dress I own.
Nash’s iPhone is blaring some sultry song through the speakers in the living room. I smile. He has always had the weirdest taste in music. I’m sure the next song will be just as odd. His singing, which happens to be horrible, breaks out from the confines of the kitchen. “Hey, Pavarotti the hounds of hell can hear you! Keep it down!” I yell down the hallway. Nash pokes his head out and grins when he sees me.
The doorbell chimes.
“It’s Gretchen,” I yell.
She told me she was going to ring the doorbell so she didn’t interrupt our alone time when she got home. She didn’t even seem as bitter as usual when she left earlier for a date with Benji—even going so far as telling me to have a good time.
I fluff my fingers in my wet tangled hair. Opening the door I say, “I would have texted if we were doing it on the dining room table, Gre…”
Maverick. He’s breathing hard and wearing workout gear. His eyes buzz up and down, taking in my appearance while surveying the room behind me at the same time. His shirt is soaked with sweat and a light dewy sheen glistens on every perfect inch of exposed skin.
“Maverick,” I whisper. My heart and stomach do a flip-flop at the exact same time.
Rocking back and forth on his feet he says just as quietly, “Win. I was hoping I could talk to you.” His eyes dart down to my thighs.
I tighten my robe in response. What I really want to do is rip it off and attack him. My brain catches up…eventually. “You already said everything that needed saying. Unless there’s something you left out before. Maybe you want me to write a manual on how to give you the perfect blowjob? I’m sure your girlfriends would appreciate it. Or, did you need to talk to me about something else?” I ask. Maverick’s eyebrows pull in as he shakes his head.
“We need to talk.”
“I’m busy right now,” I say, looking behind me when the song changes to some 90’s power ballad.
“I know,” Maverick deadpans.
Nash’s soulful, out-of-key voice grows closer until he finally stops beside me, clutching Goose in his arms. I don’t even bother looking at Nash. I know what he looks like. Plus, the emotions flitting across Maverick’s face are so raw and blatant that I can’t look away. It’d be a crime. He obviously had no idea I was hanging out with Nash, tonight or otherwise.
When Maverick’s shock abates, his angry hazel eyes meet mine. “Him?” He works to swallow. “Out of all the worthy men in the world, you pick the one who already proved unworthy. Him? Really?” Yeah, that seems to be everyone’s logic. I get tunnel vision. All I can see is Maverick. I hold up one finger in the air.
“First off, this is not what it looks like.” I gesture to my robe and then to Nash, unsure why I care what the hell he thinks. I do, though. “And secondly, people deserve second chances. That’s actually a normal occurrence in the realm of good people. Lastly, when you’re ass backwards wrong about so many things, you question your initial choices. That’s what I’m doing here. Giving him a second chance and wondering why I made all the stupid ass decisions to begin with.”
Maverick nods. It’s scary, captivating. “Stupid ass decision?” he asks pointing to his broad chest. Nash walks away and I’m thankful to hear him slam a door somewhere in the condo.
I bite my lip to keep from saying something I’ll regret. I choose my words carefully. “You blame me for your best friend’s death, Maverick. You just walked away from me…from everything without so much as a backwards glance. Sure, it took me longer to tell you how I felt, but that’s because what I felt for you was so much more than love.” Maverick takes a few steps away from me.
“Felt?” he rasps.
I ignore his question. “Am I a stupid ass decision, Maverick? Stone would still be here right now if you didn’t make that choice. Right? Or is Monica the only stupid ass decision you made?” He shuts his eyes. Guilt rears up. I shouldn’t bring Stone into this. Pain is etched into his every feature. I take a step toward him, but he throws out his hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I whisper.
“Don’t come any closer, Windsor. Are you with him?” His whole face wilts as he asks. “She said you were dating. Morganna told me you were dating. She didn’t tell me it was that asshole.”
“If you’re asking if I’m with him like you’re with all of your hotel bags, then no. Not this go round, at least. Why does it matter? You got what you wanted from me. I was wrong about you just like I was wrong about Nash. You aren’t a one woman man now, just like Nash wasn’t back then.”
Maverick smiles meanly. “For someone who is wrong so frequently that’s a huge leap to make. But hey, you’re probably right about him.” He pulls his knee up to his chest to stretch it out and then the other. “He may be magically cured, but since the day I met you I’ve been a one woman man.”
It can’t be true. I saw the women with my own eyes. He has no reason to lie. Grabbing the back collar of his shirt he pulls the sticky material up and over his head. My traitorous eyes immediately seek out my tattoo. He notices. Dimples pop, my pulse skitters.
He shrugs and says, “Good luck with him, Windsor.” Maverick disappears down the hallway at a jog, while I’m left catching my breath. I want to cry and laugh and have sex at the same time. Neutral Windsor, meet positively charged, insanely in love Windsor. The latter also communicates with stupid Windsor frequently.
I close the front door and go find Nash.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maverick
John Fucking Nash. I pour four fingers of whiskey and slam it down. Nashhole gets her. I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I throw the glass into a wall and watch it shatter. I take the whole bottle and go outside. I need to breathe. I haven’t had a drink in weeks. I was trying to get sober for work and for Morganna. If I don’t have one, or a whole bottle right now, I’ll do something really stupid. I want to kill him. For taking what I couldn’t. For taking what is irrevocably mine. Windsor can pretend all she wants. I saw her eyes when she looked at me.
