Page 24 of Organized Chaos
Chapter 7
Last night, I expectedMaya to be pissed—or at least reprimand me—for seducing her in the way I did. But Maya didn’t voice any more objections throughout the night, remaining complacent when I dragged her back to my bed and buried my face between her legs until she passed out, delirious.
And for the second consecutive morning, I was immersed in Maya’s warmth. My arm was banded around her. The soft body molded into me as if custom-built for the very purpose.
As sunlight streamed through the window, the light of day reflected a different reality for us—yet another day from our limited time together had expired.
I grabbed my sweatpants off the floor and headed to the bathroom, dreading the obscure future. After only a short time together, I couldn’t process—nor could I remember—a time before Maya. She had staked a claim, marking herself so deep that it couldn’t be eradicated.
Once this weekend perished, could she really return to her previous law-abiding life, chalking it off as a wild adventure?
The thought had me squeezing the tube of toothpaste with more force than necessary.
“Morning,” Maya mumbled, lifting her head off the pillow. She rubbed her eyes and waited with uncertainty before dressing, searching through her bag that I had brought in earlier.
I glanced at her briefly, my expression neutral. Though it wasn’t Maya’s fault, I felt irrationally hostile. I needed her out of my sight. “Do you mind putting on a pot of coffee?”
“Sure.” Maya twiddled her thumb at the edge of the bed. “How do I make coffee?”
“You’ve never made coffee before?” I gaped at her through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. “What do you do for coffee when you are at home?”
She lifted an unsure shoulder. “Walk to Starbucks.”
Fucking adorable.
Surely, I was out of my wits for this woman because her ineptness cured my foul mood. I walked to the kitchen with a dramatic eye roll, though part of me was abnormally content with the information.
She needed me.
Maya was book smart, incredibly so. But it was evident that she had been shielded all her life, lacking the skill sets to perform the most menial tasks. In some ways, though microscopic, Maya needed me as much as I had come to need her.
I removed the coffee bean bag and put on a fresh pot while an inquisitive Maya shadowed my every move. She soon became distracted by her phone screen.
“My phone isn’t working,” she announced out of the blue.
“That’s because there is no cell service around here. Price you pay for privacy.”
“I know,” she relented. “Even the Wi-Fi is down. I probably have to check in for my flight at the airport kiosk. What time are we driving back on Tuesday?”
A piercing pain stabbed at me, threatening to split me open in half.
We were only here for two more nights, leaving on Tuesday to catch our respective flights. But every time I imagined her on that flight back, I was consumed by images of the mischievous eyes that had captivated me. As time was moving closer to our departure, the corny jokes she told to cheer me up scratched the forefront of my mind.
“Actually, I meant to talk to you about that.” I could barely keep my voice steady. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to drive that car back. It was acting up on the way here.”
Sooner or later, we’d have to leave; that was inevitable. So, what’s the big plan here with this fabrication?
I hadn’t a clue.
“Oh.” Maya frowned. “Should we take it to a mechanic?"
