44. Sophie
44
Sophie
“ Y ou look good,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “Really good.”
I eyed him skeptically. I’d managed to find the energy to put myself together today. A little bit of makeup, hair pulled into a sleek, straight ponytail. A black bodysuit and ripped jeans.
And yet… I’d never felt worse, and he thought I looked good ? He couldn’t see all the unhealthy things that Callie and Maverick had been seeing? How had I ever been with him?
“Thanks.”
There was an awkward silence as we waited to order. For once, the idea of eating in public wasn’t debilitating. I’d spent the last few days ordering room service, forcing my insecurities aside for the sake of my health. It was getting out of hand—Mav was right about that—and I either needed professional help or I needed to work harder on myself. Learn to ask for help when I needed it.
I pressed my lips together, waiting for Dean to tell me what the urgent matter was. Finally, he heaved a dramatic sigh. I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“So,” he started, “I saw something.”
“Dean. Please. Let’s not beat around the bush.”
“Right.” He pursed his lips. I always hated when he did this, dragged something on way longer than it needed to be. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking the screen and scrolling for a moment before pushing it toward me.
A glance down had me softening. It was an article about Maverick. The headline: “Millionaire Entrepreneur Taken?” Followed by a short story about how eligible club-owner bachelor Maverick Mercer was spotted looking smitten with a mysterious woman. The picture at the top was a surprise; I hadn’t even known it was being taken. Mav’s arm was around me and he was kissing my forehead as we both laughed at something.
God, I missed him.
And I liked that it was public knowledge that I was his, and he was mine.
“I’m failing to see why you’re bringing this to my attention,” I murmured, handing Dean's phone back.
“Do you know anything about that man?”
“ That man is my boyfriend, so yes, I do.”
“He’s a known member of a cartel family.”
“Allegedly.”
“Allegedly? Tell me you’re not that naive, Soph.”
I reared back. “Excuse me?”
“He’s dangerous . And you’re a cop, for fuck’s sake. What’s your long-term plan here? To hope you can change him? News flash: you can’t. His whole family is involved in it.”
Scoffing, I was tempted to walk away from this lunch here and now. But then I remembered that this was why he and I never worked out, and I finally had someone who accepted me for who I was, and vice versa.
So instead I just sat back in my chair, letting the edges of the wood bite into my shoulders. “Thank you for your concern, but I can handle my own.”
Dean’s nose flared in frustration before his eyes caught on something over my shoulder. I knew without looking what he was seeing, because Mav always had impeccable timing.
“He’s behind us now, isn’t he?”
Before Dean could answer, a hand gripped my ponytail and tugged my head back. I met a pair of dark blue eyes that immediately had my own welling with tears. He yanked hard, and it felt a hell of a lot like he was telling me he’d punish me later. And oh, how I was anticipating that. “Found you.”
The relief that flooded me was almost palpable. But the sudden rush of wetness between my thighs? Now that was palpable.
Maverick hauled me to my feet and tugged me into him with both hands on my waist, kissing me rough and deep even though we were in public. I didn’t care. He could press me against the windows of this restaurant and take me in front of all these strangers and I wouldn’t fucking care. Just as long as we belonged to each other forever.
But all too soon he pulled away. Now way too turned on to function properly, I felt my face get hot as he turned us back to Dean, who was somewhere between glaring daggers at Mav and gaping at me in confusion.
“You must be the ex,” Maverick said, tucking me under his arm possessively. I swooned, pressing further into his side. “I’m Maverick.” He extended a hand to Dean, who finally rose to his feet and shook Maverick’s hand, skepticism radiating from him.
“Yeah. Dean.” His jaw flexed, tension rippling through him. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t look at me—just exhaled sharply through his nose, like the conversation was already a waste of his time. It probably was, if its whole purpose was to heed a warning that I was definitely not going to listen to.
Because how would he react if I told him I was quitting the force and had every intention of shacking up with the rich criminal currently holding me as though he intended to never let me go again?
But before I could interject, a flurry of brown hair interrupted us. “Found parking!” My jaw dropped as Callie forced herself between Maverick and me.
What the fuck is going on?