Page 52 of Face Off
“Yes,” I say, and I tap the edge of the table. “People have made fun of me.”
“Well, they suck. If I ever meet them, I’m going to give them an earful.”
I snort. “Thanks.”
“There’s another one of your chortles.”
“At least you didn’t call it a laugh this time.” I wrap my hand around my glass of water and take a long sip. “You’re turn to answer the question. What did you want to do when you were growing up? Hockey, right? You probably came out of the womb holding a stick.”
“I didn’t start playing hockey until I was nine. I grew up in Las Vegas, and ice rinks weren’t that popular when I was a kid. Now they have an NHL team and a huge following. That wasn’t the case when I lived there.”
“Vegas? Really? I took you for a Northeast boy.”
He narrows his eyes. “That’s an insult, Hartwell. I don’t drop my r’s like Ethan does. I wanted to be a dolphin trainer. I watchedFlipper, like, twenty times in a row, and I was obsessed.When he saved Elijah Wood from the shark? Man. That was an elite cinematic experience.”
“Did you learn echolocation? I’d pay big money to see a video of hot shot Maverick Miller trying to talk like a dolphin.”
“Nah. There aren’t any videos. That would require?—”
Darla cuts him off, returning to our table with our dinner.
“I have two grilled cheeses with a pickle on the side.” She sets the plates down and drops a stack of napkins between us. “I loaded up on the fries for y’all too. You must have burned a lot of calories today.”
“Thanks, Mama D.” Maverick smiles at her. “Is it Ray back there cooking tonight?”
“It is. He made sure to put a double layer of cheese on your sandwich for you.” Darla pats his head, and I swear he melts under her touch. “Ketchup is over there, and you let me know if you need anything else.”
“This looks delicious.” I take a bite and moan. “My god.”
He eats half the sandwich in one go. Cheese hangs from the corner of his mouth, but he ignores it, powering on through another bite. “Nirvana, right?”
“I see why you come here once a week. I’m going to have to try everything.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin and sigh. “I almost forgot I’m supposed to ask you a question.”
“Oh.” He perks up, and now there’s a glob of ketchup on his chin. “Hit me, Red.”
“Which of your tattoos is your favorite?”
“The J, obviously, for June. But besides that, I like the hockey stick. It’s a cliché, I know, but it was my first one.”
“How old were you when you got it?”
“Eighteen. Spring break, my freshman year of college. I was with some friends down in Florida, and I thought, why not? I realized tattoos are a way of telling a story, so I started to get more and more. I’ll need to start filling up my right arm soon.”
“Which is your least favorite?”
“I should probably say the one on my ass, but I actually like that one.”
“You have a tattoo on your ass?”
“Yup.” His mouth curls into a smirk. “Want to see it?”
“No, thank you.” I break off half the pickle and eat it. “What the hell do you have tattooed on your ass?”
“It’s a secret.”
“You’ve slept with half the women in this city. How is the mermaid on your butt not in some online forum?”
Maverick laughs and hits his chest. “Amermaid? Shit, that would’ve been brilliant. It’s not a sea creature, but good guess. I might do that on the other cheek.”
