Chapter 10 Maverick
maverick
It’s not lost on me that I notice Chloe’s beauty every time I see her.
Today, she’s sitting cross-legged on a deep green upholstered couch, wearing a tiny white T-shirt with the words I’m your dream girl’s dream girl, embroidered in red letters across the chest. There’s a massive photo album buried under tissue paper, cardstock, stickers, and scissors on the cushion beside her.
Her eyes are wide on me, but I avert my gaze because I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing a bra, and getting bricked up in the shower while she yelled at me was one thing, but bulging at a retirement home is out of the question.
“Willie, my man. What are you reading today?” I ask, slinging my arm around the back of his chair.
“The Hound of the Baskervilles,” he answers without looking up from his book. “You ever read it?”
“Can’t say I have. I’m not much of a reader, though.”
He hums, and I offer a wave over to Ms. Rosie, who’s smiling, but I can’t shake the conspiratorial expression on her face.
She leans in close, reaching for my hand, and I close the rest of the distance, giving it to her. “How do you feel about helping me out of having to go for a walk?”
“And how would I do that?” I lower my voice to match her.
“You could take Chloe here and help her choose a new movie for tomorrow night.”
“Rosie,” Chloe scolds the older woman, jumping up from her spot on the couch. “The movie has been decided and we are going out for that walk. That was part of your New Year’s resolutions this year, remember? Three walks a week.”
Rosie scoffs. “We’re closer to the next new year than when I said that, so maybe I should change my resolution to spending more time with friends.” She smiles up at me and I laugh, but it’s Chloe's presence at my side as she stands in front of Rosie that now holds my focus.
“That will be a great one for next year,” Chloe says. “Now, let’s go.”
Chloe holds out her hand, and Rosie’s gaze flicks between the two of us before she finally lets go of mine and slips her fingers into Chloe’s instead.
Chloe immediately takes the lead, linking their arms and steering her toward the back door. Rosie goes along with her, but not before glancing back at me over her shoulder.
“She’s a bit bossy,” she says, eyes sparkling. “But don’t let that deter you.”
“Rosie!”
Laughter ripples between Rosie and I, but Chloe just keeps walking and I track the sway of her ponytail until she disappears from my view.
William clears his throat with no attempt to be subtle, and I drag a hand over my mouth like I can physically erase the smile before turning to face him.
“You play cards?”
“Not well,” he answers.
“Perfect.” I smile. “I can teach you.”
I grab a deck of cards from the cabinet and make my way back to the table William has moved to.
There are three Polaroid photos on top of a magazine.
The first one is of Rosie knitting, not looking at the camera; the second one is a pot of flowers I recognize from the front desk, and the third is a selfie Chloe took with Rosie smiling and William reading behind her.
She has one of those ear-to-ear smiles where she’s cheesing so hard her eyes are half closed.
It’s hard to imagine this is the same girl who has had tears in her eyes the last two times I’ve seen her.
This version of Chloe looks like she’s never cried over a boy a day in her life.
“Your girl took those,” William says, pointing at the photo I hadn’t realized I’d picked up.
That’s the second time he’s called Chloe my girl, but it’s the first time that I let my mind drift and wonder what that would look like.
As soon as the thought forms, I mentally swipe at it, knowing that I’m not the kind of guy Chloe wants.
Even if I thought I could give her everything she deserves, no one else would, and while I might not care what people think or say about me, there’s not a shot in hell I would let them judge her.
I drop the photos, sit down across from William, and begin shuffling the cards.
“The game is poker.” I do one final shuffle and begin divvying out the stack. “The goal is to get the best five-card hand. The best hand possible is a royal flush: ace, queen, king, jack, ten,” I continue.
“Are you in a fight with your girl?”
My hand pauses for a second, William’s words tripping me up, but I catch myself and resume.
“Didn’t we have this conversation last time?” I scold him but with a playful smile. “She’s not my girl.”
William picks up his cards but keeps his attention on me. “You haven’t told her you like her yet?”
“I—” I shake my head, trying to focus on my hand. “I don’t like her.”
He doesn’t even reach for his next card. He’s too focused on staring me down.
“I mean, I like her. She’s cool. But I think even calling us friends would be a stretch.” I look through the cards in my hand, and I’ve got fuck all. When I look back at William, he’s still staring me down, not wanting to let this one go, so I say, “I’m just not really a relationship kind of guy.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “I just don’t really think they’re for me.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
He throws a hand in front of his face like he’s waving me off. “You’re too young to be jaded about love.”
I huff a laugh at his bluntness. “I wouldn’t say I’m jaded. I just have more of a…” I pause, searching for the right word, finding that, oddly enough, I actually do care what this man thinks about me. “I don’t know. Relationships just aren't what people associate me with.”
“Well, I don’t really care what people associate you with. What do you think?”
Again, his words give me pause. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who didn’t already know my reputation.
I think about telling him the truth; that it’s easier to stick with a casual hook up rather than go through the process of getting close to someone, only for you to turn out to be different then they expect, and in turn, disappoint them.
I like to think I’m pretty upfront about who I am.
The problem is, people hear or see one thing about you and they think they’ve got you all figured out.
I glance down at my Movado, its black and gold accent catching in the light. As I follow the seconds hand, I remind myself that this is volunteer hours and not therapy. “I think…” I slide a card down onto the table. “That I’m going to win this hand.”
Before I know it, an hour has passed, and Chloe and Rosie enter the double glass doors, done with their walk.
“How’d you do, Willie?” Rosie asks, dragging Chloe behind her like a granddaughter visiting her grandma's work friends.
“Won every game after I realized I didn’t have to take it easy on the kid here.” He folds his arms, leaning back in his chair.
I shake my head with a laugh, collecting the cards into the box. “He hustled me,” I say, twisting in my seat, draping my elbow over the back of my chair, and focusing on Chloe.
She puts her hands in her pockets, shifting her weight to the backs of her feet, and there's a moment of silence. I’m sure Rosie and William are exchanging glances with each other, but I never look away from the girl before me.
“Do you…” She crosses her ankles and twists her lips, and I can’t tell if she’s nervous or still annoyed with me. Either way, I wait for her to continue. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
It’s unusually warm out for the start of fall, which I guess is a good thing, considering Chloe’s outfit of choice today.
Instead of looping the grounds, she leads us out front, past the parking lot, and down a dirt path.
A brown fence, no taller than her chest, lines the left side, faded in some places and crooked in others.
Beyond the fence is endless land. Tall blades of grass and wildflowers I couldn’t name sway with the breeze.
Trees line the distance with leaves still hanging on to their green color, and behind them, rolling hills stretch further than I can see.
Somewhere nearby, birds are chirping in steady conversation, and it makes the lack of talking between Chloe and me seem so much louder.
“Is it safe to assume you’ve been avoiding me?” I ask, pushing my sleeves to my elbows. Chloe’s gaze flicks down and lingers for a beat too long before she abruptly looks away. I bite back my grin, not wanting to give her any more reason to be mad at me.
“I wasn’t exactly avoiding you when I cornered you in the shower yesterday.”
I let out a soft, amused laugh, dropping my head back, but catching the way she regards me from the corner of her eyes, and I swear the edges of her lips kick up the smallest bit.
“I was talking about the last two weeks before that. But you know, now that you brought that up.” I turn, pinning her with my stare. “You didn’t seem to mind the view.”
Her jaw falls open, and she looks like she wants to argue. Instead, her hand lands on my bicep giving me a half-hearted shove that does nothing but make me laugh again.
“You should probably just stop talking unless you’re ready to discuss our terms.”
“Our terms?”
She stops walking beside me. “Yes, Maverick. Terms. A game plan. Expectations. The rules.” She hits the palm of her hand with a balled up fist, accenting each word.
“You can’t be serious?”
Her little button nose scrunches up as her chin justs out at me. I know she’s pissed, but goddamn, she’s cute. “What did you think I wanted to talk about?” she asks like it’s obvious.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, being careful not to kick up dirt on my white shoes as I move to stand beside her. “I guess I just assumed you wanted to yell at me for telling Nathan we were dating, and then we could laugh about it and move on.”
“You thought I would laugh at the fact that you told the one guy who I’ve been trying to prove my loyalty to for going on four years now, that I was dating you?”