Chapter 3 #2
“Sorry. It’s a habit. Although, your apartment building’s security isn’t very secure at all.”
“There are cameras and the building manager lives on site. I’ve never felt unsafe here.”
Only when I try to leave.
The thought sends adrenaline dumping through my bloodstream so fast that my heart hurts from beating too rapidly. I ignore the insidious voice that wants me to believe that this man will never accept me for who I really am.
“I’m so awkward.” I try to laugh, but it comes out nervous and strained.
“That’s fine.” I didn’t expect any of this transition would be easy. It’s hard meeting someone when you’ve built up an idea of them in your head.”
His eyes are intense. They’re a little bit unnerving. Instead of shying away from them, I lean into it and step back, letting him drink his fill. “Are you disappointed? Weirded out? Did you picture me differently?”
If he’s not disappointed by you now, he will be. Don’t worry. You won’t have to wait long.
He shakes his head. His hair is thick and dark.
For some reason, I thought it would be shaved close to his head.
It’s overlong, a little bit shaggy, and gives him some of that same boyishness that his smile did.
“I tried not to think of you, honestly. Your words, yes, but not you. I didn’t want to bring you into that place. ”
I don’t know what to say. I try for a joke, but it doesn’t come out right. “Did you look me up online?”
His lips twitch. He doesn’t take it the wrong way. “You mean like any good hacker would?”
“I’m sure I exist somewhere, but I didn’t make it easy for you.”
“No.” He holds up his hands. “I mean no, I didn’t look you up.”
I don’t want him to have to keep standing in the hallway.
I’m no good at making small talk, probably due to the fact that I haven’t done it since around the time I moved here.
I do occasionally see people from the building, when I walk down to slip my rent check in the slot in the office door, or at the mailbox, but the exchange never consists of more than a brief hello.
“Do you want to come in? I made cookies and I have tea. Or coffee.” Awesome. Now he’ll think I’m awkward, and a little old lady. Not that there’s anything wrong with little old ladies.
His lips twitch again. The last thing I want to be is cute in his eyes.
I don’t know what I want to be in his eyes.
Probably nothing.
It won’t matter anyway. He’ll be gone when he finds out about me, and he’ll be far better off for it.
After Maverick walks in and I close the door, I realize just how large he is. Both in terms of his actual body, and the way his presence fills up a room. He’s dominating. Commanding. Enthralling.
I try to walk as calmly to the kitchen as I can. I wish I would have opted for jeans and a t-shirt, like he did. I feel like this outfit isn’t just giving preppy. It’s giving a whole lot of librarian.
His cedar scent wafts into the kitchen as soon as he steps in. He pulls out a chair at the table and sits down. He’s not at ease. I don’t miss how his broad shoulders set in a stiff position, or how he grasps his hands in his lap.
A tiny trickle of warmth unfurls in my belly, thinking he might be as nervous as I am.
“Do you want tea? I have pretty much every kind. Or coffee.” The kitchen is so tiny that even though he’s not facing me, he can’t miss when I point to the espresso machine. “I can make you anything you like with that too.”
“It’s been ages since I’ve had a good coffee. That should have been the first thing I had when I got out.”
I grab the bag of coffee, but nearly drop it, my hands are so slick and shaky. Of course Maverick notices. I’m practically vibrating.
“Loreena.”
I whip around at the sound of my name, flowing off his tongue like sweet honey. My body reacts viscerally, my pulse speeding up while my mouth dries out. My nipples harden, my belly swims, and my thighs tingle.
I haven’t felt anything like it in years.
I never expected to again. It’s not because of what happened to me.
I know it was an isolated incident. It was a terrible thing.
Wrong place. Wrong time. I was hurt physically.
I was threatened. But none of it was sexual.
If it had been, I don’t know if I ever would have recovered.
My mind probably would have shattered completely instead of the fractures that I was left with.
What happened didn’t destroy my faith in humanity.
Just in myself.
I suck in a deep belly breath, while the slow burning fire keeps spreading. Now that the spark is lit inside of me, there’s no stopping it. Half of me wants to cry at the unfairness of it, at that teasing glimmer of hope, while the other half of me is too stunned to steel myself against any of it.
I should have known. Maverick is physically a stranger, but in every other way, this meeting feels a little bit like destiny.
I know him. He’s safe. His words have kept me going, urged me on, given me light, and been the inspiration I needed at so many different times.
I’ve never known what it was like to be held by those strong arms, but I’ve been uplifted by his words.
He’s part of my truth. My life. If anyone was going to break through that barrier I keep between myself and the world, it was always going to be him.
I’ve been silent too long. Just standing here, paralyzed and barely breathing.
“Can I tell you something?” Maverick’s voice is unbearably soft. He keeps his face tilted away, like he’s scared looking directly at me will startle me.
He finally does tilt his face and look. His penetrating gaze knocks the wind right out of me. It takes me a moment to recover, but he doesn’t press. He doesn’t get out of that chair and crowd me.
“You can talk to me like you wrote to me.” I grab for the bag of coffee grounds and clutch it in both hands.
“The prison censored a lot, I’m sure, even though there were strict guidelines. Things we could and couldn’t say. Things we weren’t allowed to read.”
“You don’t have to censor anything.” At least that comes out strong. I mean it. I truly do.
“When people find out that you’ve been in prison, they treat you differently.” He sets his hands on the table, palms up. They’re rough, just like his gravelly tone.
It gives me a sense of him disarming himself in every way. Baring himself.
“They look at you differently,” he continues, but his words are scraped up a painful throat. “It means the world that you’re just nervous, and that you don’t do that. I feel like this is the one place I can take a breath and try to figure out what it means to be me as a free man again.”
Oh god. Oh my god, oh my god. This isn’t fair to him. He might be free, but I’m not. How can I just stand here and lie to him after he emptied himself out like that? He trusts me. He came in here with his guard down, vulnerable, so damn honest. So himself.
I sink down onto the floor. I don’t mean to do it, but my legs are shaking so badly that they can no longer hold myself up. I’m still clutching the black bag. The fragrant aroma of toasted caramel and sea salt fills me up when I gulp in air.
“Loreena!” Maverick scrambles up from the table. The chair screeches on the laminate flooring.
He kneels down, hovering right in front of me. Tears blur my vision. When he reaches out, I see three of his hands, all restrained. He doesn’t touch me. He’s only trying to be respectful and not scare me.
“I’m s-sorry,” I choke.
Words are impossible until I have more air. I gulp and thrust my hand over the bridge of my nose. It smells like coffee too. I can’t let him say anything. He’s going to ask me if I’m okay, and I’m not. He’s going to ask what he can do, and the answer is nothing. I need to just tell him.
“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t even remember what it is to be free.
I’m trapped in here. I’m stuck. I can’t have a normal life.
” I bow my head, ashamed, bracing for the rejection, the loss of one of the few friends I have.
More than a friend. Maverick is always going to be so much more.
“I’m not like other people. I should have told you, but I just…
couldn’t. I was afraid that you wouldn’t understand, if I wrote it. ”
He rocks back on his heels. At last, that wariness creeps into his face.
It makes me sad. Sadder than I’ve ever been for myself.
I was something good in his life, but I’m not good.
I was something true, but I wasn’t honest. I wanted to be the loudest voice for him, cheering him on, guiding him, helping him, but I can’t even do that for myself.
His beautiful face wasn’t made for this kind of worry.
I can’t bring the light to his life. I have nothing to offer other than my own problems and troubles.
I don’t want them to be his. He doesn’t owe me anything.
He’s out now. He’s golden and in the prime of his life.
He should have these years as the best ones yet.
If I really care about him, I should give him up. Maybe move on, but that’s a joke. There’s not going to be any moving on for me.
“I’m agoraphobic, Maverick. I’m not… right. Nothing is right.”