Page 30 of Crazy Good
“Fine. I’ll go to work naked,” I joke. “I do have to go check in. Especially if we’re leaving shortly,” I say. I can’t help the smile that hurts my cheeks. I’m so excited to go anywhere with him—to get to know him more. We are officially a couple who vacations. I notice the frown on his face.
“You really have to leave now?” he says. I’ve been around him long enough to realize he’s at his own “office” only when he has to be. It’s either short days, because he went in to work out and shoot, or long days where I have no idea what he did all day and night. I don’t ask, either. He gives me vague answers when I do ask. “Diving.” “Meetings.” “Speed ball.” “I got some new gear.” “Monster Mash.”
Oh, he’s going to make this hard. “I can come back over after…if you want,” I suggest.
“Yes.” He answers quickly.
“You have a lot of house to show me. I haven’t even gotten the official tour yet,” I say. Chewing on my lip, I think of all the things we can do during the tour. He shakes his head, his dimples coming out in full force. It’s like felony assault, I swear it. I lean up and kiss him. “I can’t wait. Goodbye,” I say, leaning over to whisper in his ear.
He cuts me off before I can finish. “Never say goodbye,” he demands. His smile fades. “I’m making my own rules. Never say goodbye. That’s rule number one.”
I nod. “I’ll see you later.”
Chapter Thirteen
Maverick
Cocaine is less addicting. Windsor fills every waking thought, and my dreams at night? She’s fucking starring in them. The rest of my life is merely subtitles at this point. That’s not necessarily a good thing either. At least all the years of doing nothing except training, or thinking about training will probably kick in. I’m counting on autopilot coming in for the win.
“I swear she is trying to kill me,” Windsor says. She’s sitting in the middle of a pink, frilly bed. We’re at her Mom’s house in Georgia, in Win’s childhood bedroom. Kathy wanted Windsor here because husband number five—I’m not even sure if she’s said his actual name—left her…again. “He’ll be back. He’s gotta come back.” She turns to face me. Her eyes are wild. I know what she’s thinking.
“You don’t live here anymore. She’s not going to ask you stay here. Kathy knows you have a job and a life,” I say. Windsor is like a ball of fucking nerves. Her leg bounced the entire flight to Atlanta. I tried to get her to join me in the airplane bathroom, but she was too wound up to respond. That’s when I knew this wasn’t just an issue of conflicting personalities. Whatever went down between Windsor and her mother, the scars from it are deep. If it were possible, I felt an even tighter connection with her for it.
She runs her hands through her hair and collapses back onto her bed. A white teddy bear bounces off. It seems Kathy had a hard time letting go, because this bedroom looks like it hasn’t been touched since Windsor left.
“I keep telling myself that. She is a fucking mess, Maverick. She can’t take care of herself. What kind of daughter would I be if I left her here by herself?” she asks. It’s almost rhetorical. We both know what kind of person she is. She’s good.
“I could make some phone calls and see if we could get someone to come over and check on her every day,” I offer.
She shakes her head. “She’s always had a man around. That was always number one for her,” she says sadly. Fuck. Now Windsor looks miserable. I sit on the edge of her bed, feeling a little apprehensive because It’s like I’m sitting on a child’s bed and that’s just fucking weird.
I run my fingers through her hair. I’d take away whatever she’s feeling if I could. God knows I’d take it all away. Because I know what feelings like this do. She hides her face in a fuzzy, heart shaped pillow. I don’t even know what to say. Nothing can fix it. Words aren’t a magic cure for anything. Words only take the sting off the surface. Deep down, everything is still shredded and bleeding and aching.
“I have to stay here,” she says, the pillow muffling her words.
My pulse picks up and I try to calm myself. I’m not mad. I take a deep breath. The rational piece of my brain starts connecting the dots. Being separated from Windsor makes me nervous. My body has an actual physical response to the mere mention of me going and her staying. It is fucking insane.
“I know,” I say. Because I do know. It doesn’t change how I feel. If she didn’t stay, she wouldn’t be the person I fell for. She turns to look at me and a tear slips down her face. I wipe it away with my thumb. She is so God damned beautiful that I can’t stand it. Even in a child’s bed with a red face, she is the only sight I’ve ever been addicted to. I want to look at her and really see her in every possible way. When she’s sad, happy, coming, when she’s angry…I’ll take it all.
Windsor groans and flips to her back. “Tell the dolphins ‘hi’ for me,” she says, sulking with her arms folded across her chest. “That’s why I’m upset you know. I know Kathy will be okay…eventually. I’m upset that I won’t get to spend this time with you.”
I lean down and kiss her square on the mouth. I do it because I’m not sure what to say. Hopefully my mouth says everything it needs to say without actually speaking. “It’s a shame really. I was going to take you to get a dolphin tattoo on your ankle,” I offer, rubbing my lips across hers. She laughs and sniffles a little. It was the reaction I wanted. A cute grimace crosses her face.
“You never see a bumper sticker on a Bentley, Mav,” she says. “Forbes women don’t mar their bodies with art. We prefer it on the wall. It’s not the 1990’s either. A dolphin?” she laughs even louder. I smile. “You get a dolphin tat,” she counters. I kiss a tear that is about to roll down her cheek.
“You think I should? Maybe one diving over my dick?” I reply.
Her laughter fades a little. “If anyone is going to be diving by your dick, it’s going to be me,” she whispers.
It is so hot I actually consider a dick diving dolphin. God, Stone would love that. That’s a vagina dick image he’d never be able to burn out of his mind. I chuckle.
She stands from the bed, but not before running her small hand over my jeans-covered cock. Tease. Cock fucking tease. “I have to go talk to her,” she says. “I’m sure that’s what is expected from me. Dance monkey, dance!” she yells.
I grab her waist from behind and pull her ass to my dick. “While you’re obeying commands lets do bad things in that bed. I want to defile it tonight,” I say, already picturing her naked in it. The weirdness of the pink, child’s bed has completely disappeared the second I imagine her naked. Dick twitch. Schwing! “I need to take a run. I’ll pick up some groceries. Seems she doesn’t get out of bed all that much. I’ll make dinner tonight?” I ask. She bends down to pick something off the floor and the angle is so perfect I can almost feel her pussy through both my jeans and hers. “Or we can defile it now,” I grind out.
Windsor sighs. “What exactly is your definition of defiling? It can’t be all that bad if we’re stilltaking things slow. Or are you finally going to show me a new talent?” she replies.
Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can hold her off. She told me she was glad we were waiting to have sex, but I’m not sure if that’s because she knows I have some weird fucking hang up about it, or if she really doesn’t want to either.
