Page 10 of Maverick
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never done it before.”
He sits up. “Jesus Christ. Are you telling me that you’re a virgin?”
“Well… Well…”
“Don’t ever do anything like that again, do you understand me? That was stupid. So what, you were going to go back to a hotel with one of those chuckle heads and have your first time? From a poker game bet?”
“You won.”
“And I don’t deflower naïve girls. No thanks. I have half a mind to go out there and tell everybody that you’re a virgin who made a stupid bet because you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“No,” I say. “Don’t do that. I’m… The thing is, you’re right. Something is going to kill me.” I take a shaking breath. “Colt almost died and…”
He shakes his head and lies back down on the bed, covering his face with his hat. “I’m not going to be an affirmation for you.”
“Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“Put your head down by my feet. Catch some Zs.”
I’m in a state of absolute horror. I can’t believe this happened. I can’t believe… I don’t know what’s worse. That I might have actually lost my virginity to Maverick tonight, or that he doesn’t want it. Yeah. I can’t exactly figure out what might be the most horrible outcome.
“Is it because I’m not pretty?”
He lifts his hat. “No. You’re beautiful.” He lowers his hat over his eyes again.
Absurdly, my heart beats faster when he says that.
“Then why not?” I press.
He lifts his hat again. “Stella, you seem like a nice girl. But that’s the thing. You’re a nice girl, and I’m not for nice girls. Maybe I’m not as much of a villain as people think I am. If you tell anyone that, I’m going to make you pay. But even I have my limits, and this is my hard limit. I’m not sleeping with a woman in the middle of an existential crisis, okay?”
“Or maybe your back just hurts too much from all the bull riding.”
He chuckles, the sound echoing behind his hat. “If you think you can goad me with bad behavior, you’re only proving my point. You’re not grown enough for me.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “I left virgins behind in high school, sweetie. Not something I’m eager to revisit.”
I’m insulted on so many levels I can hardly see straight. I also decided that I’m going to take his bed. That I’m going to get into the bed with my feet up by his face. I’m going to put my pajamas on first.
I make a lot of noise moving around the trailer, opening up my suitcase, and take my pajamas out. I look over at him, his hat is still covering his face. I strip my top off and throw it on the floor. I kick my boots off, take off my jeans, and make sure that all of that is clearly audible. I’m standing there, wearing only my underwear, my heart thundering hard. All he would have to do is lift his hat up again. Though he doesn’t seem interested in doing that.
I look at him, laid out on my bed, so tall and… I don’t even know him. I question why this feels more intimate than what I was prepared to do. And the full horror of my impulsivity crashes over me.
I was losing it because of my sister, because of Colt, because of everything, and I just about put myself in a terrible situation. Maverick is actually being nice except…
It feels patronizing. That’s the problem. He’s not treating me like an adult, and in fact he’s made it really clear he doesn’t see me as one. He thinks I’m being a silly child. And now I have to share a bed with him, because there’s not even enough room in here to sleep on the floor if I wanted to. I don’t want to.
I grit my teeth and pad over to the bed. Then I climb on, right beside him, feet up by his head, head down by his feet. I turn away from those feet, because if I’m not even getting intimate with a man I’m definitely not having my nose up by his foot. Mind you, he smells good. Which is annoying, because I just told him that he wouldn’t because of the cigarette.
I’m not going to say that to him, though. I will, in fact, abstain from commenting on scent of any kind now and forever in the future.,
This is so stupid.
All of this is so stupid.
It’s the crash that follows the rush, and I wish I weren’t so familiar with it.
When the impulsive urge to learn to show jump with no guidance ends in a (minor) injury and my parents yelling at me. When my scrapbooking attempt makes my mother cry over the ruined family photos because (and she wasn’t wrong) it’s so ugly.
When running off to join the rodeo just makes your family all the more certain you were never cut out for their life.
