6. Evie Wilder
Chapter six
Evie Wilder
He called me Wilder. That’s what did me in. I was sulking on my couch, halfway through a bag of chocolate covered almonds, when Lou called. My instinct was to turn him down. I’m too vulnerable to see anyone right now, much less Maverick. He’ll see right through any facade I put on. But then he used that nickname…right after telling me he loved me. I couldn’t let him leave after that.
All this time I thought he’d hate me after how I treated him. That he’d be disgusted by how I let myself be treated like a doormat. Instead, he’s bringing gifts and saying he loves me. His words pierced my heart. I was helpless to do anything except give in. But now that he’s outside my door, my earlier trepidations are tumbling in.
My apartment is a wreck. There are boxes everywhere, the trash is full, the sink has no dishes but only because I’ve been living off of microwave meals and takeout. I’ve never been much of a cook, and the energy to do anything other than take care of Beckham has been sparse to say the least. On top of my apartment looking atrocious, I do too. I swapped my chic outfit for an oversized NYC sweatshirt I bought to be ironic–and now unironically adore it–a pair of checkered boxer shorts, and fuzzy socks. My face is devoid of makeup, scrubbed raw after my crying session earlier. I’m lucky I don’t have spit up on me. Especially since I just fed Beckham before laying him down.
“No time to change now,” I mutter as I unlock the deadbolt on my door. Maybe my puffy eyes and runny nose will scare Maverick off, then I won’t have to talk to him about how I got here.
I open the door to a giant gift basket in my face.
“Um, hi?” I say with a light laugh.
“Your brother has a shopping addiction,” Maverick says in lieu of a greeting. He tilts his head to the right so he can see around the gifts. “Can I come in? This is fairly heavy.”
I doubt it’s that heavy to him. Not with the muscles he’s sporting.
“Yeah, you can set it on the kitchen island.”
I hold the door open for him to walk in, then rush ahead to clear off a space on the island. Maverick sets the basket on the counter next to the pile of mail I keep forgetting to sort.
“Drew bought all this for me?” I ask as I look through everything. Candles, blankets, pajamas, some baby clothes, plus so much more that I’d have to dig to see it all.
Maverick doesn’t answer, so I shift my attention to him. He’s wearing a sheepish look that says he played a hand in this too. I’m about to tell him he shouldn’t have gotten me anything, when it occurs to me why he did .
“Why are you both bribing me?” I ask, then answer my own question. “Is this about Drew wanting me to go back to Georgia?” My frustration from yesterday begins to return.
“No, not exactly,” he says and I glare at him. He sighs. “The bribe was to help me get in the door. But yes, I want to talk to you about moving.”
“ Drew wants you to talk about moving. You’re just here because he knew I’d be more likely to let you up than him.”
I start to walk to the door, intent on kicking him out.
“Do you really think I flew to New York just for Drew? That I spent all day shopping for you just because it’s what he wanted to do?”
I turn around, anger blazing to life in my tired body.
“Tell me you wouldn’t do that for him,” I challenge.
He runs a hand over his beard, frustration lining his features. Good . He can get angry and leave. Just like my friends did when I told them I wasn’t going to give Ezra a second chance after cheating. I didn’t need them and I don’t need him.
“You know I would,” he says in a low voice. “But you should also know that I’d do the same for you. How can you think I don’t care about you? I’ve been worried sick for months . I can’t tell you how many times I thought about getting on a plane before now. And that has nothing to do with your brother.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t need to worry. I’m fine,” I say, the lie tasting as bitter as gas station coffee.
“Are you?” he asks, looking me over. Shame burns through me, my face heating.
“I know I don’t exactly look like a supermodel, but I’m a mother,” I snap. “They don’t get much sleep, in case you didn’t know. ”
“Who said anything about your appearance?” he asks, then crosses the space between us. He reaches out and I flinch. Something akin to hurt flashes in his brown eyes as he lowers his hands.
“I think you should go,” I whisper.
“You’ve been crying,” he rasps. “Why?”
I cross my arms over my chest and look away. “It’s nothing. Just a bad day at work.”
His large hands settle on my biceps, warmth seeping through the fabric. “Wilder, I’m here for you. We’re a team, remember? You can talk to me.”
That blasted nickname is going to be the death of me. We used to call each other by our last names all the time growing up. He said it was because we were on a team, and that’s what teammates did. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as the ice around my heart starts to crack. The fissures he created with his text are quickly spreading. It was hard enough trying to turn him away when we had five floors separating us. But now he’s here, touching me.
“I can’t do this right now, Maverick,” I choke out, almost calling him Carter, but thinking better of it.
No matter what he says, I know he’s here because of Drew. My brother may think he wants what’s best for me, but his idea of best is just that: his . I need to figure out my definition. Maybe I’ll be in pain during the process, but it’s better than gaining control over my life just to hand it over again. I let Ezra direct my every move for most of our relationship. I don’t want to go back to that, even if Drew is nothing like my ex-husband.
Maverick gently squeezes my arms. “Okay,” he says in a low voice. “I can go, but let me at least tell you what Drew and I came up with. ”
I give him a weak nod in response. It’s exactly what I thought. They already have my life planned out for me. I’m waiting for him to speak when he surprises me by pulling me against his chest. He wraps his arms around me, the scent of smoke and pine filling my senses. Slowly, I wrap my arms around his waist. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. This is the safest I’ve felt in months.
I never felt truly safe with Ezra, not like this. He’d made me feel special, like I was the center of attention. I was arm candy to him and I loved it. Being in a room full of designers and models with him by my side made me feel powerful. That feeling lost its luster over time. Soon enough I was left feeling hollow. I didn’t understand how I could be wrapped up in his arms and feel so alone, but now that I’m in Maverick’s…it makes sense. I don’t think Ezra ever truly cared for me.
“You and Beckham can stay with me.” Shock ripples through me at his words. I hadn’t anticipated him offering up his own home. “I moved to a big farmhouse out in the country a few months back. It’s got a whole apartment upstairs. You’d have your own space. I know you have a great job here,” he pauses.
I wince, glad he can’t see my face since it’s pressed against his chest. His warm, firm chest that would make a fantastic pillow–I cut that line of thought off immediately. Not productive, Evie. My hormones must still be out of whack after having Beckham. I’d probably feel this same way about any man who hugged me.
“But I’m sure Atlanta has a lot of great opportunities.” Maverick’s voice draws me out of my embarrassing thoughts. “You wouldn’t have to worry about money while searching either. I’ll take care of you and Beckham. ”
My bruised heart squeezes painfully in my chest. It wasn’t long ago that I was crying on the floor of my bathroom because my husband wanted nothing to do with me or our future child. Now Maverick is here saying the words I ached to hear Ezra utter. But Maverick isn’t my husband, or even my boyfriend. He shouldn’t take care of us. He should be out finding a woman to marry and fill his house up with babies of his own. It’s no use telling him though. He takes care of everyone he cares about, no matter if it’s a detriment to him.
“We leave for Atlanta in three days. There’s a ticket for you if you want it.”
He pulls away. I’m tempted to burrow back into his chest so I can savor the feeling a little longer, but I don’t.
“I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to stay,” I say in a quiet voice.
He nods, no trace of anger on his face. “If you change your mind over the next three days, I’m just a call away. Even if you change your mind four days or four years from now, the offer won’t go away.”
I manage a weak smile. “Thanks, Maverick.”
He walks to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “You should call Drew at some point, even if it’s after we’re back in Georgia. I know he went about things the wrong way, but he loves you. I know he’d worry less if he heard from you more.”
“I will,” I say to him, and as mad as I am at my meddling brother, I mean it. The first step to a better me is improved communication, even if I keep the majority of things to myself. A check-in every now and again won’t hurt me. Much.
“Goodbye, Wilder,” he says as he opens the door.
“Bye.” The door shuts behind him. “Carter,” I whisper into the silence of my apartment .
All the warmth Maverick brought with him is now gone. I tuck my hands into the sleeves of my sweatshirt, then head over to my couch. My body starts to shake so I curl up into a ball, trying to stave off the ever growing hollow feeling within me. I close my eyes, then draw a deep breath.
It’s for the best that he’s gone, I tell myself. I only wish I believed my own words.