20. Evie Wilder
Chapter twenty
Evie Wilder
“Come on, you can do better than that, Wilder,” Maverick says as I hit the pads on his hands.
Over the past week, we’ve fallen into a rhythm of waking up early–him much more so than me–and training. After such a good weekend with his family, I felt better about trying boxing again. Talking with everyone made me feel like I was normal again. They treated me like one of them, not the broken outsider I felt like I was when I walked in. Juliette and Sloane even asked if I would take their brand photos. I have a job now, sort of. Needless to say, Saturday boosted my confidence.
I was worried about having another emotional outburst, but that hasn’t happened this week. Likely because Maverick keeps me occupied enough with everything he’s teaching me. We've gotten away from using the bag as much, instead opting for the hand pads he’s wearing now. He came home with those and a pair of lavender colored boxing gloves a few days ago. I might have had to hide my tears at him remembering my favorite color.
“I’m tired,” I huff out.
“You can rest when we’re done.”
I glare at him, not liking his chosen form of motivation. He knows that poking at me will get me fired up. Even though I know he’s doing it on purpose, it works every time.
“You’re the worst,” I grumble, barely dodging when he swipes at me.
We’ve added the fun act of dodging to our exercises. I haven’t worked out since the early months of my pregnancy with Beckham, so my fitness level is severely lacking. That means that I fail. A lot.
“You love me,” he says with an infuriating grin.
The smack of my glove against the pad echoes through the garage. He chuckles, knowing he’s gotten under my skin. A normal human would have us in cooldown mode, but Maverick likes to end by going all in . It’s miserable.
He swipes at me again, this time making contact with my shoulder when I don’t duck in time.
“Gotta be faster than that, Wilder.”
I hit harder, channeling my frustration into every punch. Based on the lack of strength in my arms, it probably feels like nothing to him. It makes me feel better though.
Another swipe, this time grazing the top of my head. He follows it up with a swing toward my other side when my guard drops. None of it hurts, but it’s infuriating that he’s getting through so easily.
“Okay, okay, I’m done,” I say, dropping my hands.
“I thought we agreed on five more minutes.” He pulls out his phone. “There’s still a minute left on the timer. ”
His arm softly arcs toward me, I take a step back to avoid it.
“I’m tired of being too slow.”
He gives me a look.
“Yes, I’m aware that the only way to fix that is to keep practicing, but I am rebelling against that idea. Let me wallow in my inadequacy.”
His lip twitches. “Tempting, but no.”
He steps toward me and taps me again with the pad.
“Maverick, I’m serious,” I say, letting out a laugh when he touches me once more. “Quit it.”
“What are you gonna do? Hit me?”
I roll my eyes. “That was a terrible joke.”
I barely dodge another swing. Instead of getting into the right form like he’s baiting me into, I swing low toward his abdomen. I make contact, catching him off guard, but it’s a weak punch.
“So you want to play dirty, then?” His voice is low and silken. Tingles race down my spine.
He starts to rip the boxing pads off his hands. I take the opportunity to run. Since my athletic abilities are abysmal, he catches me before I even make it to the first porch step. His arms wrap around me from behind. I squeal as he pulls me flush to his chest.
“I don’t know why I bothered running,” I say through labored breaths.
“Maybe next time you’ll beat me. If you stop quitting practice early.” His lips are near my ear, his breath hot on my neck.
I try to elbow him in retaliation, but he’s got me thoroughly pinned. His low chuckle in my ear makes goosebumps cascade over my whole body. It’s hard to breathe, much less concentrate when he’s holding me like this .
“You know, I could get out of this if I wanted to. Drew taught me self-defense.”
“And do you want to?”
My heart trips in my chest, my stomach somersaulting. What is he asking? Could he–is he–I can’t even finish the thought.
The crackling crying sound of Beckham over his baby monitor snaps me out of the haze I’m in. Maverick quickly releases me.
“I–um I should go check on him,” I say, turning to face Maverick. My whole face is on fire.
He rakes a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, of course. Uh, I’ll bring the baby monitor in.”
I turn and walk up the front porch steps, mumbling thanks as I scramble to get my gloves off.
What was that?
I watch with a smile as Maverick pulls up on his motorcycle with Maddie on the back. She convinced MJ to let him pick her up today. I’m grateful she’s here, because I need a distraction from what happened this morning. I haven’t been able to get the whole thing out of my head.
Every time Maverick touches me or holds me, it’s like my brain glitches. I’ve known him for so long his touch shouldn’t affect me like this, but it’s different. And I don’t think it’s simply because we’re older. No, I have feelings for Maverick Carter. Butterfly-inducing, trip over my words, breathless feelings. And they’re turning me into a fumbling mess of a woman .
I want to prosecute my heart for reckless endangerment, because falling for him is sure to end in pain. You’d think I would have better defenses after Ezra, and maybe I did, but Maverick has flattened them like a steamroller.
Maddie skips out of the garage after Maverick parks, her blonde curls bouncing with the movement.
“That was so fun,” she says, ever the ray of sunshine. She bounds up the stairs, Maverick following behind her with a smile on his lips. He’s traded his helmet for a ball cap like he tends to do. I have the urge to rip it off and kiss him. I glance at Maddie. Assuming she wasn’t around, of course.
“It looked like fun.”
“Have you ever been on it?” Maddie asks.
I shake my head. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”
Maverick didn’t start riding until I was off at college, so it wasn’t something I was around much for.
“We should remedy that sometime soon,” Maverick says, the first time we’ve spoken since this morning. He’s smirking beneath the brim of his hat, like he knows I’ve been daydreaming about him all day.
“Yeah, we should.” I look to Maddie, fighting off a blush. “Are you ready to get started?”
“Yes! I can’t wait to learn. My dad said that if I can explain how the settings and camera works to him, he’ll buy me one like yours.”
I smile at her words. Even though Sebastian is rich in the kind of way that’s almost obnoxious, from what I can tell, he doesn’t overly spoil Maddie. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and is very respectful .
“I’ll be sure to teach you everything I know then,” I say, though that would take much longer than an afternoon. She’ll at least learn enough to get her new camera.
I turn to Maverick. “I brought Beckham’s bassinet down while you were gone. He just had a bottle, so he should sleep for a little while.” I hand over the baby monitor I had on the swing. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Yesterday when Maddie called to ask to come over, Maverick offered to watch Beckham. Even though it still feels strange to rely on Mav like this, I knew it would be best if I didn’t have to worry about him while teaching Maddie.
“Okay, sounds good. You’ll be out back, right?” he asks.
I nod, and Maddie answers for us.
“Yep! We’re going to take photos of each other under the big willow tree.”
A soft smile stretches his lips. “I’m looking forward to seeing the photos.”
I’m not super fond of the idea of being photographed, what with how little body confidence I have, but it’s the best way to teach Maddie. I just have to hope that my oversized sweater hides the fact that the baby weight I gained has not left me just yet.
“Okay, now look off in the distance like you’re searching for a long lost love,” Maddie says as she snaps photo after photo a few feet away from me .
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at her prompt. I’m no model, but I’m doing my best to listen and also give her prompt suggestions when she needs them. So far though, she hasn’t needed much help in the way of creativity. If she keeps practicing, she’s going to be able to work anywhere she wants in the future. Her raw talent is better than some of the photographers I worked with at Cleo.
I lean against the willow tree and try to follow her direction. A breeze blows through, toying with my hair. I fight a smile when I hear Maddie gasp. She must like whatever shot she’s getting. As I’m pretending to search for my long lost love, Maverick steps onto his back porch with Beckham in his arms. Maisy winds around his legs before he closes the door behind him. I’m suddenly very glad that I have this tree to lean on. Seeing Maverick holding my baby while a puppy trots beside him has me feeling lightheaded.
“How’s it going out here?” he asks as he gets closer.
I can’t help but grin when I see my baby boy awake and happy.
“It’s going great! I’ve learned a bunch,” Maddie says.
“She’s a quick learner,” I say.
Maverick walks over to where I am by the tree. I smile down at Beckham as I take him.
“There’s my sweet boy,” I coo and kiss his tiny nose.
“He just woke up not long ago. I figured we could come out and get some fresh air while you finished up.”
I look up at Maverick, my smile growing. “Thank you for watching him. I think we’re almost done.”
“It was no big deal,” he says.
I meet his warm brown eyes. “To me it is,” I say softly .
Our gazes lock for a moment. The temptation to press up on my tiptoes and thank him with a kiss is strong. But when I hear the click of the camera shutter, I’m reminded of where we are. And that we’re not alone.
“Okay, I have to quit now. That was the perfect shot. Everything else will be terrible in comparison.”
I laugh at Maddie’s dramatics and step out of the gravitational pull Maverick seems to possess. She tilts the camera screen my way, holding her palm over it to shield it from the sun. I lean in and suck in a surprised breath. Maddie wasn’t kidding. The photo is perfect, achingly so. The trees in the background are showcasing the gradual shift into autumn. I’m staring up at Maverick with a soft smile on my lips. Our eyes are locked, while Beckham is staring right at the camera, wearing a tiny smile. We look like a family. My heart squeezes in my chest.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, trying not to sound as emotional as I am. “You did a great job.”
Maverick comes over and Maddie flips the screen so he can see too. I watch as he takes in what I just saw. His expression is soft when he regards me again. I don’t know what to make of it.
“You’ll have to send me that one,” he says, making my stomach swoop.
Maddie starts a monologue about the editing process, but I can’t focus on anything she’s saying. All I can think about is how I’m in way over my head.