Page 63 of Crazy Good
“Whoa, angry bitch alert. Windsor almost ran me over on her way out. What the fuck did you do now, Mav?” Steve asks, eyes darting directly to Morganna when he realizes I’m not alone in the room. He smiles.
Windsor wasn’t angry. That’s the thing with Steve. If a girl isn’t horny or telling him “yes, do me”, she’s angry. He needs some lessons. That shit isn’t my job.
“I don’t know,” I rasp, glaring fucking daggers at Morganna. But she’s not looking at me. She’s looking at Steve through narrowed eyes and scrunched brows. Like she’s trying to see something else…or someone else. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
She looks directly at me and murmurs, “You’ll thank me later.” To Steve she says, “Hey, what are you up to?” Raising her eyebrows she waits for a response.
Steve replies, “Making my daily rounds at the psych ward, you know?” He warily glances at me. I force a smile to my face and slowly nod. One friend has handed guard duty over to the other. This is my sick new norm. I don’t want it anymore. I want to be alone.
“You guys should go grab something to eat. I know Morg is hungry and I have some stuff to get done,” I say.
Steve throws his hands out in an offer. Morganna shrugs and says, “Maverick doesn’t have any food in his house and I am starving. I want to go to Captains.” It was entirely too easy. For a second I wonder if that was their plan all along.
They leave without another word. Cold prickles my skin and I swear to God thathe’sin the room right now. Telling the whole world to move the fuck on already.
So I do. I make a plan to move on with my life and get my fucking girl back because Stone, with his obscene wisdom, once told me something. He said sometimes you have to make snap decisions and do things that seem irrational to make sense of the bigger picture. You have to trust your instincts and just go with it. That something or someone else is out there swaying in the atmosphere, looking out for you. It made perfect sense when it came to work, but not life decisions. I thought it was bullshit. But there is no going back on the plan I just decided upon. Like everything in my life, it’s all or nothing. Unlike most decisions I make, I have no fucking clue how it will end.
The only thing I know for certain is that I’ve never been surer about anything in my entire life.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Windsor
It’s been a week since Morganna gave me the wrinkled envelope containing something that is supposed tochange my mind about Maverick. It’s sealed and she’s told me she didn’t open it. I haven’t opened it. I leave it inside my desk drawer at work because I don’t trust myself with it at home. I don’t want a piece of paper to sway my mind.
Maverick and I have been texting back and forth during the days, and he seems better. Morganna said he’s better, too. That he had a coming to God moment where he realized how much he was throwing away. He’s eating, going into work, and functioning on a level consistent with that of the old Maverick.
I told him I wanted some space to sort through my feelings. If I’m going to keep him at arm’s length, I need to figure out how to put a damper on my freaking libido and my heart. I feel guilty even admitting this to myself, but it’s unfair to Nash. This time is supposed to be his to prove himself. To have my ex-boyfriend meddling at every turn is just wrong. See how twisted that sounds? If Nash wasn’t in the picture I think I’d still be hesitant to jump feet first back in with Maverick. I feel like a skittish cat…in heat. I miss him.
Hannah’s voice blares through the speakers. “Your mom is on line three!” The jarring buzz scares the crap out of me.
“Thank you,” I say, pressing the intercom button down.
I pull up my e-mail to make sure I haven’t neglected to e-mail her back or something. I’m not sure why else she would call me at work. Our relationship is shaky at best, and I haven’t even told her about Maverick. It’s a conversation more complicated than I’m willing to have right now. I hit the red blinking button and tap on my blue tooth headset.
“Hey, Mom. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I get it all out of the way in one swoop.
“I’m fine, honey. I have some company over and we’re just sitting down to tea. Funny thing, you’re the person we’ve been talking about.”
“Jesus, Mom. Don’t gossip about me with your cranky friends. Isn’t five back? Don’t you have husband-pleasing duties to perform? I’m at work,” I whisper shout. I’m pleasantly surprised she sounds sober and she’s drinking tea instead of vodka. Who knows, maybe she has vodka in her tea. Isn’t that a thing? Maybe I should ask Maverick.
“Well this guest only has wonderful things to say about you. He came all this way to apologize to me for putting my daughter through a rough time. How gentlemanly is that? He also scared the living shit out of Bill. I doubt he’ll leave again in the foreseeable future. Isn’t that nice, Windsor?”
The room seems to be spinning as I process her words. I lay a hand on my head and take a deep breath. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mom. Should I be happy Mr. Apologizing-scary-gentleman scared the shit out of your husband?” I hear muffled, supremely male giggling—if that’s even possible.
“Windsor,” he says my name. Or makes love to it. I’m embarrassed he spoke it like that in front of my mother. That’s a feat in itself. It’s merely a name—myname dripping fromhislips.
I sigh, trying to collect my thoughts. Why the hell is he at my mother’s house. How am I supposed to react to this? “What are you doing there, Maverick?”
“Well I think your mother explained it quite nicely. I have amends to make…with many people. You are the first one of course. Think of it like my six step program if you’d like,” he explains. I hear him ask my mom for more tea and another photo album.
“Do not look at the ones from middle school. I swear I will rain dark, acid blood down on you right now if you so much as peek at those horrible albums,” I threaten. “And isn’t it twelve steps?” He laughs and continues a dual conversation with Kathy and me at the same time. They banter back and forth about me, and my trials and tribulations when I was an unruly teen.
“She just finished telling me the story about the Pimp and Ho party you attended in tenth grade, complete with a detailed description of your prostitute costume. I have to say, I never thought you’d dip that dark. I want to see that,” Maverick whispers and I know for certain my mother didn’t hear that comment. He pauses a few beats and then says, “I’m sorry again, Windsor. This is the beginning of my restitution trail.”
Although I’m still baffled that he’s sitting in my mother’s kitchen, gleaning more knowledge about me than any one person should have, my heart flutters. With Maverick it always does, even when it isn’t supposed to. Because that’s what love is. Your heart beats along frantically and compassionately for that individual, even when the same person rips it out of your chest. Funny how my fluttering heart reminds me why I need to keep my distance.
“What exactly are you doing?” I ask quietly.
