33. Emmy
THIRTY-THREE
“Areyou sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Piper asks. “It’s New Year’s Eve!”
“I know, but after the loss the other day and our road trip coming up, I need a night in.” I slip a shopping receipt into my book to mark my spot and stretch out my legs. “You’re going to that new club downtown, right?”
“Yeah. I really want to have someone to kiss at midnight. Even if it is a stranger.” She looks at me in the mirror and pouts. “I really can’t convince you to come, can I?”
“Nope. I have some ice cream in the fridge, I’m going to open a bottle of wine, I’m reading a romance book that’s making me kick my feet. What more can you ask for?”
“I’m only letting you off the hook because I started that book too, and I had to force myself to put it down. I know it’s fictional, but it’s making me believe in love again. Is that silly?”
I climb off the couch and walk toward her. “It means you know that kind of love is out there, and you’re worthy of it. There’s nothing silly about that, even if the words are make-believe. They can be real to you.”
“Gosh.” Piper fans her face. A tear slides down her cheek, and she wipes it away with her thumb. “I’m going to cry, and I told myself I am not allowed to cry this year.”
“You are allowed to cry, but you’re not allowed to cry over shitty men. They don’t deserve your love and attention, let alone your tears.” I wrap my arms around her in a hug and hold her tight. “I’m so proud of you. This is going to be your year. And what better way to kick it off than by finding the hottest man in the place and sticking your tongue down his throat?”
“Thanks, Emmy.” She laughs into my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. “I might sleep at Lexi’s tonight depending on how late we stay out. We might only last an hour then stuff our faces with Taco Bell.”
“A Crunchwrap Supreme is never going to fuck you over. I support that decision.” I pull away from her and pat the top of her head. “Have fun. Tell Lexi I say hi, and text me if you need me. I’ll keep my ringer on just in case.”
“You’d interrupt your sleep for me? I know how much you hate someone waking you up before your alarm goes off.”
“You’re not someone, Piper. You’re my best friend.”
“Damn you, Emerson Hartwell,” she curses at me, grabbing her purse. “I’m leaving before you mess up any more of my makeup.”
“I love you too,” I call out, laughing when she makes a heart with her hands before she shuts the door.
I flip the deadbolt in place, and head back to the couch. I read for the next hour and a half, growing tired and letting out a yawn as the time on the clock stretches closer to midnight.
When I shut my book and stand up, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I pick it up, expecting it to be Piper letting me know she forgot something, but I’m surprised to see a message from Maverick.
Pretty Boy
Happy almost New Year’s!
How are you spending the big night?
Me
Lounging around with a book. I’m about to have a bowl of ice cream then head to bed.
What are you doing? Are you at some fancy party on a yacht?
Instead of an incoming text, my phone rings with a FaceTime call.
Maverick’s contact photo—the one he took at practice last week of him shirtless and holding eight hockey sticks above his head—flashes across my screen.
A small smile works its way across my mouth when I answer.
“There she is,” he says, and he waves at the camera. There’s a bruise on his cheek, a purplish red spot from when he got punched in the jaw during our game on Saturday. “Hey, Hartwell.”
“That doesn’t look like a yacht. Are you celebrating by yourself?”
“No way.” He tilts his phone down, and June is sitting in his lap. She’s painting the nails on his left hand, and they’re wearing matching party hats that say HAPPY BIRTHDAY! “I have my best girl with me. She’s giving me a makeover.”
“What color did you go with?”
“Pink. It’s her favorite,” he says, and the camera pans back to him. “Are you home alone?”
“Yeah. Piper and Lexi went to a club. They invited me, but I’m tired. Plus, the thought of putting on real clothes sounds absolutely miserable.”
“Do you want to come over and celebrate with us? We also have ice cream, so you wouldn’t have to abandon your plans.”
“And champagne,” June adds, and I laugh.
“Champagne, huh? Are you being a bad influence, Miller?”
“Me? Never. The kid version is grape juice, but I have the adult version too. Come on, Red. You’re right next door. You can be here in five minutes. No one should start off the New Year alone.”
Suddenly, the apartment is too empty. That quiet I craved is too loud, and I feel unsettled and restless. A change of scenery sounds like the perfect idea.
Mavericksounds like the perfect idea.
“Okay,” I say, and his whole face brightens. His eyes crinkle in the corners, and his smile could light up a whole room. “Let me brush my hair and change. I’ll be there soon.”
“Who cares what your hair looks like? Get your butt over here.” Maverick flashes the camera to his thighs and the joggers that hug his muscles. I salivate a little, a natural reaction to seeing a man in gray sweatpants. “We’re keeping it casual.”
“Not all of us look that good in sweatpants.”
“Wear a pair and let me be the judge of that. I’ll give you a thorough inspection.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m already halfway to my room and yanking off my thick socks. Unraveling my hair from its messy bun and opening my dresser drawers. I knock over a stack of folded laundry, and I leave it on the floor, making sure to grab the small gift bag sitting on my bedside table.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“You can do better than that, Emmy girl. Make it eight.”
“Do I get a prize if I win?”
“Yeah.” His eyes gleam. “A midnight kiss.”
Never one to back down from a challenge, I flash him a smile. “Deal.”
I make it to his apartment in seven minutes and thirty-two seconds.
Maverick opens the door before I can knock, and I’m immediately handed a party hat.
“Required dress code.” He snaps the band around my chin and drags his fingers down my jaw. “Well done, Red. I’m proud of you.”
I blush at the praise and distract myself by shrugging off my coat. I add my boots to a pile of shoes, and I smile at the little pair of Nikes on top of the stack.
“Where are Dallas and Maven? How did you end up on babysitting duties?”
“I volunteered. They’re doing a dinner and champagne toast at the Four Seasons, and I got them a room for the night. They’ve been busy with their seasons and wrapping up the holidays, so I thought they deserved a little time to themselves tonight.”
“That was kind of you.”
He pulls me toward him and rests his hand on my hip. His thumb strokes down the inside of my thigh, and I sigh. “I like your sweatpants.”
“The host was adamant. He’s obnoxious.”
“Sounds like it.” Maverick cups the back of my head and urges his mouth to mine. The kiss sets my nerve endings on fire, and I feel like I’m floating high above the clouds. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Thank you for having me. I, uh, brought you a present. It’s a thank you for placing the highest bid for lunch with me at the charity gala auction. Now I don’t have to eat a meal with any creeps.”
“A present?” He smiles and takes the bag from me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s nothing big. It’s silly, really. Something stupid and?—”
“Can I open it?”
“Of course you can.”
Maverick plucks the tissue paper from the bag and pulls out a box. “A puzzle? Wow. Thanks, Emmy.”
“I got one with fewer pieces so you and June could put it together.” I shake my head. “I told you it’s silly.”
“No way. I’m adding it to the collection. I can never have enough puzzles, and this one is perfect.”
“I appreciate the auction bid, but we don’t have to actually go eat lunch anywhere.”
“What if instead of going to lunch with me, you went with Rachel instead?” he suggests. “The money is already going to a good cause, and I’d like her to go in my place.”
“That…” I nod, lost for words. “I’d really like that.”
“I’ll get in contact with her parents, and we’ll set something up.”
He holds my hand and guides me to the living room where June is sitting on the couch. She swings her legs back and forth, enthralled by the celebrations on the television.
“June Bug? Do you want to meet my friend Emmy?”
“Yes,” she squeals, jumping off the couch and running my way. “Wow, Uncle Mav. She’s really pretty.”
“Did you pay her to say that?” I ask him.
“Nope. That’s all her.” He bends down and picks her up, holding her against his side. “She is pretty, isn’t she?”
“I like your hair,” June tells me. “It looks like a fire.”
“Thank you.” I smile and touch one of her pigtails. “I like yours too.”
“Are you going to kiss Uncle Mav at midnight? Mommy and Daddy said you’re supposed to kiss someone special.”
“I’m not sure. Do you think I should kiss him?”
“Yes! Uncle Mav is the best.”
My eyes meet Maverick’s, and he’s looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s stuck somewhere between happy and confused, like he can’t quite figure out what he’s feeling.
I can’t figure out what I’m feeling either, because seeing him with a kid in his arms and loving on her does something to my insides.
It makes an image of five, ten years down the road pop in my head. A big house with a big yard. Bikes in the driveway and Maverick on a porch, his arms crossed over his chest and the world’s most beautiful smile.
“He is the best,” I agree, and I shake the daydream away.
“Do you want a drink? She’s barely going to make it past midnight, and I’m going to put her to bed as soon as the ball drops.”
“Are you drinking?”
“Nah. I stay sober when I’m watching her. My little monster can be a handful, and I like to have my wits about me when I’m in charge.” Maverick tickles June’s sides, and she screeches. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I watch the two of them, and instead of feeling like an outsider, I feel included. Part of their little group when June reaches for me and Maverick hands her over. When we sit on the couch and he drapes his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. When we get to the five-minute countdown and June bounces on my lap.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“June Bug, do you know what a resolution is?” Maverick asks, and she shakes her head. “It’s when you pick something you’re going to try to do for a whole year. It can be something big or something small. Like, my resolutions are that I’m going to try to cook more meals at home and do one in-person volunteer outing a month.”
“I want to learn to ride a bike,” she declares. “Crystal brought her bike to show and tell and it’s pink.”
“Whoa.” Maverick pops his mouth open in surprise, but something tells me he’s heard this story before. “A pink bike? How cool is that? We’ll have to talk to the bosses, but I’m sure they’ll be on board. You’ll be zipping around here in no time, kid.” He nudges me. “What about you, Red? What’s your resolution?”
“I want to start thinking about making DC a permanent stop. I want to find an apartment and go to the same coffee shop on the weekends. I want to try out the farmers’ market when the weather gets nice. I want to enjoy where I am and not look for the next thing for once.”
The words rush out of me, and until he asked, I wasn’t sure what my resolution was going to be.
I didn’t think I had one.
Seeing the way my friends are living their lives, though, makes me want to give it a try.
It’s scary to think I’m going to root myself somewhere and leave a piece of myself behind… but I’m ready.
“Yeah?” Maverick’s smile rivals the sun, and I want to bottle it up. Keep it for when my days get dark and gray, a reminder of how much good is left in the world. “I really like the sound of you being around long term.”
“That doesn’t mean that we have to continue our arrangement or anything,” I add, because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. Like I’m doing this for him.
“And if I want to continue our arrangement?” he asks, soft enough so June can’t hear us. “What if I want to figure out how you take your coffee? See what plants you buy for your place and make fun of you for sleeping with eight blankets?”
I lick my lips. “I’d like that very much.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Ten!” June yells, and I glance at the television. Confetti falls from the sky, and “Auld Lang Syne” starts to play. “Nine! Eight!”
“Happy New Year, pretty boy,” I whisper, and he rests his hand on the back of my neck. His touch is an anchor on my skin, and I blow out a breath.
“Two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” June yells, and she blows on a streamer.
“Happy New Year, Emmy girl,” he murmurs low and rough, and he crashes his lips against mine. It’s brief, hardly anything like we do when we’re together in bed, but that same bolt of electricity runs through me. “I think this is going to be the best year yet.”