10. Maverick Carter
Chapter ten
Maverick Carter
Grayson: Let us know when you and Drew board.
I have to stifle a groan while standing in line to pick up breakfast. In all the chaos that was yesterday, I forgot to tell my family that I’m not going home today. Or that Evie and Beckham are coming…
Maverick: Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. It’s a little chaotic here. Drew left for Atlanta this morning. I’m staying another day to help Evie pack up her apartment. It’s a long story, but she and Beckham are coming to stay with me.
It takes all of two seconds for my phone to start buzzing with messages from my siblings.
Grayson: Wait. What? I thought she was married.
MJ: Is she okay? Does she need anything?
Levi: Do we need to come up there and help?
Adrian: Does this mean I’m keeping your dog another day ?
I run a hand over my face and sigh. My family is great, but they don’t take vague messages well. I should have typed up a whole paper for them and sent it over. By the time I answer all their questions, it’ll amount to one.
Maverick: Her story is not mine to tell. Drew and I are taking care of everything. Thank you for offering. Also, yes if you didn’t mind watching Maisy a little while longer that would be great.
I put my phone in my pocket as I approach the café counter. When I asked Evie about a good breakfast place last night before I left, she said this one. So, I’m picking up food for the both of us. Based on the lack of food in her kitchen and the amount of takeout containers in her trash can, she probably doesn’t have any breakfast. It’s a risk to bring her something, considering she argued with Drew for half an hour last night about him paying for dinner. She eventually gave in, but it took a lot of convincing.
While I don’t want her to get mad at me for ‘coddling’ her, I’m more worried about her eating enough. If I could get away with cooking for her, I would. But there’s no sense in buying groceries for an apartment she’s leaving.
My phone continues to vibrate in my pocket as I pick up the quiche, fruit, coffee, and croissants I placed an order for last night. Once I have the bag of food secured in the crook of my elbow and the drink carrier in hand, I use my free hand to carefully pull my phone back out.
Grayson: So you’re leaving tomorrow? What’s your flight information?
MJ: If you need it, Bash says he can call one of his friends and get you seats on a charter jet .
Grayson: How come you’ve never offered me a seat on a jet?
MJ: Because you’ve never had a travel emergency that requires one.
Grayson: I have one right now. Adrian is going to kill me, so I need to leave the country.
Adrian: We’re in a meeting. You shouldn’t be on your phone.
Grayson: Then why are you on yours?
I laugh as I walk out of the café and head toward Evie’s apartment.
Maverick: I got our tickets secured just fine. Tell Bash I appreciate it though. We’re finishing packing today, then the moving company will come in the morning. We’ll catch an afternoon flight back to Atlanta.
All my siblings send various versions of offering help once we arrive in Georgia. I thank them and tuck my phone back in my pocket. I haven’t thought much of what it’ll be like having Evie in my home. My mind has been so preoccupied with getting her out of here. It will be different, that’s for sure. I haven’t lived with anyone since I graduated college. My now ex-fiancée tried to get us to move in together while we were engaged, but I turned her down because something in my gut didn’t feel right about it. I’m glad I did, considering not long after that she cheated on me.
I round a corner and see the sign indicating the apartment building up ahead. While I prefer the country, it is nice to be within walking distance of so many things. Stores and restaurants are less than five minutes away, and if you don’t want to leave your house you can have anything from sushi to pizza to tiramisu brought straight to your door. No one delivers to where I live. Anything I want I have to either make or drive thirty or more minutes to go get it .
That will be a big change for Evie, as if all of this isn’t big enough. Hopefully she’ll like the peace of the country. I’ve gotten so used to the quiet that trying to get any sleep with all the sounds outside the hotel has been as miserable as baking in a kitchen with no AC.
I walk inside and wave to Lou as I head to the elevators. He grins and returns the gesture. When I got a visitor’s pass for the next few days, the man congratulated me as if I had told him we were engaged. He told me he was sad to see Evie go, but happy she’d be taken care of. While he’s right that I’ll take care of her, the twinkle in his eye made me think he didn’t believe my just friends story. Though I didn’t push back too much on his assumption. There’s no harm in him romanticizing life if it makes his days a little less mundane.
The elevator ride is quick, but I’m still grateful I don’t have this many barriers between me and my house. All I have to do is pull off down a dirt road and unlock my front door. And anyone who wants to visit just has to knock. Depending on who they are, they don’t even have to do that.
I walk down to Evie’s unit, then knock on the door. It takes a minute, but soon enough the door opens. Evie gives me a tentative smile. She’s got Beckham in a sling across her chest, similar to how she was when I’d first seen her days ago. Except instead of a sweater underneath she’s wearing pale blue pajamas that bring out the color of her eyes.
“Morning,” I say with a smile and hold up the bag. “I brought breakfast and coffee from your favorite café.” She steps aside to let me in with a frown.
“I told you about that place so you could get breakfast, not so you’d bring me some.”
I walk in the kitchen, noting the boxes stacked by the door. The pile has grown since I left last night. It looks like Evie must have done some work through the night or early this morning.
“Were you packing boxes? You were supposed to be resting.”
I set the food on the kitchen island, and start to pull out everything.
“I’m an adult, Maverick. I can handle packing my own apartment. I did it before.”
I pause, the container of fruit still in my hand as what she’s saying clicks into place with details from yesterday.
“When did you move here?”
Silence. I turn around to see Evie fiddling with the hem of the baby sling.
“Wilder, how long have you lived here?”
She looks off to the right, staring at her mostly empty living room.
“Almost seven months,” she finally answers, her voice tight.
“You were pregnant when you moved? And you did everything by yourself?”
The half-full boxes start to make more sense. She was trying not to carry too much for fear of hurting Beckham somehow.
“Lou helped some.”
I rake a hand through my hair in disbelief. “Why–”
She cuts me off. “We have a lot to do today. I think it would be good to get started. I didn’t get that much done after you left.”
I consider pushing her, but think better of it. If she really felt like she had to do all of this on her own, she was in a desperate, awful state. I’m sure she doesn’t want to relive that time. Maybe one day she’ll trust someone enough to talk about what happened.
“You’re right. But first, how about breakfast? ”
She shoots me a look, but walks over to the island and grabs a paper plate off the stack I went to the store and got last night, along with plastic utensils and cups so we could box up her kitchen supplies.
I watch as she serves herself, then stays standing to eat, pausing occasionally to sway when Beckham fusses. There was a lot I was unprepared for when I came to New York, but one thing that surpasses them all is seeing Evie as a mother .
Growing up she was simply my best friend’s precocious little sister. When we got older, I–along with many other guys–noticed how beautiful she was. But I never acted on that attraction, because Drew was like a brother to me. It felt too weird. Now I see that I was immature, which means it was probably for the best anyway that I stayed away. In all that time growing up together, I never once imagined her as a mother. But here she is, looking exhausted and worn but still smiling down at her son the same way she used to smile all the time. Those smiles seem rare now, like a butterfly landing on your fingertip.
And yet…the more time I’ve spent with her, the more I’ve been able to pull them out. That’s given me hope. I don’t expect her to turn back into the girl I once knew. She’s been through far too much for that to be a possibility. No, my hope is that she’ll take time to heal and find joy again in the here and now.
Evie looks up and catches me staring. Her face flushes pink. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I wasn’t, I was looking at Beckham,” I say, and the red on her cheeks deepens in color. Truthfully, I can barely see Beckham’s little face poking out of the sling. But it’s fun to tease her .
“Your ego has grown a lot since I last saw you, Wilder.” I shake my head like I’m disappointed.
She gapes. “I just–I thought–”
“You’re so obsessed with yourself that you thought I must be too. It’s okay, we can work on managing your vanity when we get back to Georgia.”
Her nose scrunches up. She throws a paper towel ball at me, but I catch it mid-air. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet you love me,” I say without thinking. The words tumble out before I can stop them. Silence falls over the kitchen.
Sure, Evie used to love me. We said it plenty of times while growing up together. I was never stingy with the phrase. My mom always said never to hold it back because you don’t know how many times you’ll get to tell a person. She was right. I tried to say it every chance I got and I still feel like I didn’t tell her enough before she passed.
I meet Evie’s gaze from across her kitchen. Does she still feel the same way? A lot has passed since the last time she said those words to me. I can’t even recall when it was. It used to be so normal that I didn’t think to cherish each one. Maybe I’ll add that to my mom’s advice.
“Yeah,” she says in a quiet voice. It feels as though a match has been lit in my chest. “I do.”