Page 42 of Maverick
He braces his hands on the counter. He puts his head down, and I can’t help but admire how beautiful he is. How strong. It’s an inappropriate time to be doing that. I still can’t help it.
He’s just that gorgeous.
And so, so broken.
“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.” He looks at me. “You didn’t know what you were getting into.”
“I feel the same way. I mean, I shouldn’t have… I just thought that you were an asshole. A really hot asshole. And I thought that we could have sex and it would be fun. I didn’t realize that I was going to… Did you have a vow of celibacy or something?”
He barks a laugh. “Kind of.” He shakes his head, turning the burner on. Then he turns toward me. “Kind of. Not really officially. But I’m supposed to win the fucking rodeo for her. You know.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And I was sort of… Not having sex until I did that.”
He feels so real and human right now. So fallible. Even though I also know that he’s a sex God, there’s something vulnerable in this, and it makes me ache.
“I’m sorry.”
He gives me a hard stare. “Sorry that you left a box of condoms out, and my will folded like a goddamn house of cards? That’s not your fault.” He laughs. “There’s no fault about it. It was good, Stella. And you don’t deserve to be all caught up in all my issues.”
“I am, though.” I’m trying to figure out how to say what I want to say, but I’m afraid it could come across as insensitive.
I bite my lip, hesitating.
“Just say it. You already busted into my house and saw all my pictures.”
He has a point. “I’m attracted to you,” I say. “And I think I’m probably attracted to all of the different issues that you’re carrying around with you, too. Or… It’s part of your vibe.”
“Part of my vibe,” he says, shaking his head. “Wow.”
“I just… I don’t know. This is kind of a mess.”
“It’s a mess.” The teakettle whistles, and he shuts the stove off, pouring hot water into two different mugs and dropping a teabag into mine without asking me what kind I want. But it’s fine. I’m not even sure that I’ll be able to taste it.
He hands it to me, then sits across from me, holding his own mug. “I never really had tea before I married Sadie. She loved it. And I still have so many bags of it around the house. I don’t even know if I like it.”
I stare at him. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah. I was more or less feral before I met her. Got a little bit less feral after that. Now I’m… Well, I don’t even really know.” There is a stretch of silence between us. “I can’t offer you anything, Stella.”
No. He can’t. That much is clear. His house is a monument to the woman that he loves. And I can see that losing her changed him. That it cost him. That completely upended his life. I can also see that he’s not interested in moving on. Having sex with somebody isn’t moving on.
He wanted sex.
And that’s why he feels bad.
Because he used me. And he can’t give anything back to me.
But I used him too. And yes, I’m caught in the middle of just the smallest bit of sadness now. Seeing him as a real, human man with faults and flaws and heartache.
“You mean other than four orgasms and a chance at Olympic gold?”
I don’t know what I expected. Nothing, really. Because it’s one of those things where I just said something rather thanthinking it through, but I know that what I don’t expect is for him to laugh.
He lowers his head over his cup of tea and shakes it. His shoulders are shaking. “When you put it like that,” he says. He raises his head, and his eyes meet mine. “I don’t want to hurt you. It’s one thing to roam around the circuit and collect the casual resentment of the people around me. It’s another thing to actively hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“I didn’t say I wanted anything from you, Maverick Quinn. You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
