9. Evie Wilder
Chapter nine
Evie Wilder
I tuck my shaking hands underneath my thighs as I wait for Drew and Maverick to arrive. They should be here any minute now, if what Maverick said on the phone is true.
Did he tell him every way I’ve failed at life? Or I am going to have the pleasure of seeing my brother’s disappointment occur firsthand?
A knock sounds at the door, making my stomach flip. I wish there was another way. Or that there was a time machine so that I could go back and whack myself on the head the first time I spoke to Ezra. My life would be much different if I had.
I push off the couch and walk to the door. The longer I keep them waiting, the more they’re liable to worry. With a deep breath, I open the door. I stumble backward, letting out a small oof as Drew attacks me in a bear hug. A very sweaty bear hug. My worries about him being disappointed start to fade.
“I’m so happy you’re coming home,” he says, still holding me.
“You’re suffocating me,” I tell him, my words coming out muffled since I’m smushed against his chest. His damp t-shirt smells of cologne and sweat.
“I am not.” He squeezes me tighter. “ This is suffocating.”
I push at his chest until he releases me, laughing. I wipe at my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“You’re going to make me regret agreeing to come back,” I say, but keep my tone light so he knows I’m kidding.
Though I suppose I’m not entirely sure that I won’t end up regretting this decision. It seems to be the theme of my life as of late.
“You love me. Which is why you’re coming back. Mav told me other reasons, but I know deep down it’s because you miss your favorite brother.” He grins at me.
I roll my eyes. “You’re my only brother. And I’m only coming back because I have no other options.”
Drew and Maverick share a look. Yet again I am not in on whatever they’re thinking. The only thing I can discern is that Maverick seems to be saying I told you so with his eyes. Which makes sense, considering Drew just said he told him what happened.
“You don’t consider Maverick a brother?” Drew asks, and there’s something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. I don’t know what it means, but I don’t like it.
“If I considered the Carter brothers to be my own, then you wouldn’t be the favorite anymore,” I tell Drew. Maverick smiles. “It would obviously be Grayson.”
“Ouch,” Maverick says, placing a hand on his chest. “I thought you were going to say me.”
“You’re a close second,” I tell him, a smile teasing at my lips.
“Second?” Drew gapes. “I’m ranked third ? ”
“Yes, and you only made it that far up because you got me chocolate.”
Maverick chuckles. The sound is comforting, like a bowl of soup when you’re sick. It makes me smile, which is a rare action as of late, but less so when he’s around.
“I can’t believe this,” Drew grumbles, but there’s a light in his eyes that wasn’t there when I first saw him days ago.
“We don’t have time to soothe your wounded ego,” Maverick says, then looks to me. “What did you want to talk about?”
“And can we talk while packing?” Drew tacks on.
For the first time since walking in, Drew starts to look around. I begin to feel self-conscious about the state of my apartment.
“It looks like you got a head start,” he says, but shows no outward sign of concern or disappointment. I breathe a little easier.
“I haven’t had much time to unpack after my last move,” I say, then quickly move off the subject. “We can start working on the kitchen, if you’d like. I have a few empty boxes here, but we’ll probably need more.”
“Sounds like a plan. One of us can run to the store in a little while,” Maverick says.
We head into the kitchen and I’m contemplating how to say what I need to when I hear Beckham crying through the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen island.
“Can I go get him?” Drew asks, catching me off guard.
“Oh, um sure. That would be great. He’s in my room. The door is open.” It’s not hard to see the bedroom from here, since it’s the only one.
Drew smiles like I just told him the Thrashers–his favorite football team–just won the National Championship before walking off in the direction of my bedroom. I start stacking the mail on the island, not looking at Maverick. Now that we’re alone, the awkwardness of my breakdown from earlier has come back to haunt me.
“Is there a certain cabinet you want me to start with?” Maverick asks, drawing my attention up from the envelopes in my hand.
Instead of a flannel today he’s wearing a black henley t-shirt and worn jeans. The dark shirt emphasizes his deep brown hair and cocoa colored eyes. His beard looks like it was freshly trimmed, as it’s shorter than when I saw him last. His lips are tipped up in a faint smile. The kind of smile that makes me feel at ease even when I’m trying to be on guard.
He’s unreasonably attractive. How had I forgotten that? It’s probably for the best that I forget it again, because there’s no way anything good can come from those thoughts.
“Wilder,” he says and I blink.
The little smile he was wearing has morphed into a smirk. My face flushes. How long was I admiring him?
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I squeak out then clear my throat. “Yes, of course. I was just thinking about a plan of action.”
“My plan is to hold Beckham while you two do all the work,” Drew says from behind me. I turn around to see him walking through the living room, cradling Beckham in his arms.
I smile at the sight. He’s already a great dad, so I know he’s going to be a great uncle. His love for Beckham is easy to see.
“You can get out of work if you also wake up when he does tonight,” I say and his face scrunches up.
“I’ll pack the boxes. I do not miss those days. ”
Drew’s son Archie is three years old, so I’m sure he’s been through his fair share of sleepless nights.
“You know Kay is going to take one look at Beckham and want another,” Maverick says.
“She already wants another. When she heard MJ was pregnant, she said she missed pregnancy. When I brought up how she complained through the entire thing and had a tendency to cry at grocery store commercials, she threw one of Archie’s dinosaurs at me. Let me tell you, those things hurt .”
In the midst of laughing at my brother I realize what he just said.
“MJ is pregnant?” I ask, looking at Maverick.
He nods, his smile growing. Pride beams off of him. “She is, she’s around five months now.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for her.” I force my lips up into a smile.
It’s not that my words are a lie, but it’s hard to not be jealous. She’s married to a wonderful man who treats her like a queen, and they have a teenage daughter who can help her, plus a slew of uncles and best friends. I’ve tried to stay off of Instagram over the past year so that I don’t feel these things, and the few times I’ve given in I’ve seen how perfect her life is. Same for all of the Carters, just like when we were kids.
They have a bond that no one can break. Even the grief of losing their mother didn’t break them, it only made them stronger. But my family? We’re spoiled goods. A shattered picture frame that cuts you whenever you try to retrieve the original photo. I ran away to find my own life, my own family to start over with, but instead, I wound up in the middle of another mess. The only good person in my family was my brother, but I ran from him too .
“You should have seen their gender reveal,” Drew says with a laugh, pulling me from my spiral. “MJ didn’t want one, but Bash convinced her because Grayson convinced him. They had huge smoke cannons and confetti too.”
“Sounds like something Grayson would have planned,” I say with a half-hearted laugh.
I feel Maverick’s eyes on me, but I keep my gaze on Drew.
“We should probably get started.” I gesture to Beckham. “He’s going to get hungry soon. Do you want to feed him or hand him off to me?”
“Why don’t you take him and direct us on what to do?” Drew suggests as he shifts Beckham into my arms. He smiles down at him and it looks so similar to the way Maverick looked when he talked about MJ. Proud . My throat tightens. “Oh, wait, Mav said you had something to talk about.”
“It’s nothing,” I say with a shake of my head. “I just wanted to know what the plan was. Even with all these boxes packed up, I don’t know how we’re going to get everything done before your flight tomorrow.”
I can’t very well tell him that I don’t want him to take care of me or be overly involved when he looks so happy. Maybe I’ll regret not setting a boundary later, but for right now I just want to be the sister of a proud brother. Maybe I won’t ever be like MJ, with her big beautiful family that adores her, but I have Drew and Kayla. I glance over at Maverick, who’s watching me with curiosity shining in his deep brown eyes. Him too , my heart whispers. I don’t know if I can trust it though. This same heart has gotten me into trouble one too many times. Then again, Maverick has never let me down .
“Mav and I talked about that on the walk over here. I have to get back because of work, but he’s going to stay behind and help you get moved out.” My eyes widen. “And don’t even try telling him he’s doing too much, or else he’ll give you some lecture about family ,” Drew says in a mocking tone.
“You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve fought someone. I wouldn’t mind changing that,” Maverick says in a joking tone.
Drew puts his fists up. “You’d regret it if you did.”
“No fighting in my apartment,” I say, trying to sound carefree and not like my world has been turned inside out and upside down all in one day. I’m going to be alone with Maverick starting tomorrow. I thought I’d have a little time before that happened, but apparently that’s not the case.
“ Fine , we should get started anyway. I’ll go condense the boxes you already have,” Drew says then heads into the living room where several of the boxes are opened and half-empty.
I walk over to the cabinet where Beckham’s bottles are, having to pass Maverick on the way. I get the cabinet open before I feel a gentle hand on my upper arm.
“You good, Wilder?” he says in a low tone that sends sparks down my spine.
“I’m fine,” I tell him with a tight smile. He raises a brow like he doesn’t believe me. “Just a little overwhelmed,” I admit, hoping he’ll leave it at that.
His eyes flick over my face. I feel exposed beneath his gaze, but nothing in his expression implies he’s judging me.
“If you need a minute alone, that’s okay. I can feed Beckham for you. ”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. Why does he have to be so kind ? I don’t know how to handle this after spending so long in a cutthroat industry with a husband who cared more about his reputation than me.
“I’m okay, but thank you,” I say. He nods and lets his hand drop back to his side. I continue preparing a bottle, my arm tingling the entire time.