Chapter 17 Chloe #2
Maverick doesn’t move. His hands are still placed on either side of my hips, and his chest is close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him.
I inhale and his warm scent fills my head. My pulse stutters and my tongue wets my bottom lip without permission. We’re close enough now that I don’t know where his breath ends and mine begins.
His thumb brushes along the side of my leg, so soft that I can’t tell if it was intentional or not.
“Chloe.” His voice is caught somewhere between a question and plea.
Before I can answer, the music gets cut off followed by a collective groan. Sound rushes in, pulling me back from the edge through my chest, leaving me gasping for air.
What the hell am I doing?
I slide off the counter, skimming the front of his body on the way down, and don't leave even a second to consider the hard length of everything I just rubbed against before darting to the sliding glass doors.
“Chloe, wait.”
I feel him reach for my elbow but I swivel my arms over my head, hurrying my steps outside.
The cool night air smacks me in the face, and I gulp it down like it might turn me back into the person I was before I felt Maverick’s body pressed up against mine.
Beyond the deck, a crowd forms around a beer pong table.
There's a mini tiki bar in the far corner, with a guy who looks barely eighteen working the bar and wearing a slutty maid costume.
A plastic kiddie pool is filled with some sort of mystery liquid that everyone keeps dunking their cups into as they walk by, and on the other side of it, is a line ten people deep ready to take on an ice luge.
I walk to the edge of the deck, fingers gripping the railing, and inhale. In one breath, the music is back on and the scent of him fills the space at my back.
“Chloe,” he says my name carefully, like how I would imagine he would talk to a scared dog.
I squeeze my eyes shut, take a breath, and when I open them, I put on my everything’s-fine smile.
“I really just needed some air,” I assure him. “I’m good. It was just a lot with the party, and your friends…” I’m grasping at straws here, but anything sounds better than admitting to him that his close proximity was almost enough to make me lose control.
“Do my friends make you uncomfortable?"
“Well, yeah—”
His eyebrows bunch together, and of course he’s confused, nothing I’m saying makes sense. “I mean, not your friends, but just like this whole situation, and then being around them. I…I don’t know, I feel like they're all judging me.”
“Why would they be judging you?” he asks, leaning down on the railing next to me, arm brushing against my shoulder.
“Because we’re…I mean—” I struggle to say the words out loud, but it’s not like it’s a secret, and I guess it’s no more embarrassing than a make-shift diaper. “Because you’re pretending to date me.”
“They don’t know that.”
I whip my head to him. “You didn’t tell them?”
He shakes his head, eyebrows dipping just enough to say, why would I?
“Not even Noah?” Disbelief coats my tongue.
“You told me not to.” He shrugs like it’s obvious.
“Yeah, but—” My throat is dry, but I attempt to swallow anyway. I’ve felt terrible about what I said to Maverick in the locker room, about loyalty not meaning anything to him, but when I look at the man who has been nothing but overwhelmingly loyal to me, I feel downright sick.
I let my hands hang over the railing, taking another breath to simmer my racing thoughts.
The backyard is now a blur of lights and sound until my sight lands on a bench in the corner where Nathan is sitting with his arm draped over another girl.
Déjà vu all but knocks the wind out of me.
Only this time, his attention is on me, and it’s not hurt or longing I feel, but alertness.
I’m hyperaware that he’s watching me, but when my chest tightens, it’s from an emotion I can’t make sense of.
Maverick’s gaze must follow mine because he exhales sharply before turning his attention back to me.
“What?”
“That’s the third time tonight that I’ve caught him watching you.”
“What?” I ask more surprised this time. “How? I didn’t even know he was here.”
He stands to his full height but his knuckles pale where he still grips the railing. “It pisses me off that he keeps looking at my girl.”
I dip my chin, so there’s no chance of my lips being read when I whisper, “But I’m not really your girl, so it shouldn’t make you mad.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
I nod, turning so that I don’t accidentally make eye contact with Nathan again. Maverick shifts with me, and just like he did in the kitchen, he places his hands on either side of my body, gripping the railing that’s now at my back.
“Kiss me.”
If I were drinking, I would have spit everywhere. Instead, my mouth just falls open as I look at Maverick in shock.
“Chloe, I’ve never had a girlfriend, but if you want this to be believable, standing around, spectating a game of beer pong isn’t the way to do it.”
My heart hammers louder than the music, the only proof that I’m still breathing.
I try to swallow but my mouth is bone-dry.
Maverick’s eyes are locked on mine, so completely that I forget where we are.
I forget who we are. The way he’s looking at me isn’t just foreign, it’s unsettling.
There’s both hunger and desire, and I can’t shake the feeling that I want more of it.
Leaning into the only defense I have left, I whisper, “You’re just trying to mark your territory.”
He grabs my lower back, firm and sure, pulling me flush against him. The surprise sucks the air from my lungs.
“Woof, woof, baby.” And then his lips are on mine.
For one long heartbeat, I don’t move. My brain can’t understand what’s happening, until all too quickly—it does.
He’s kissing me. Maverick Hall is kissing me.
And not just kissing me, he’s claiming me.
His lips are warm and sure against mine, and he tastes like spearmint with a hint of something darker.
He slowly parts my lips with his tongue, as if he’s asking for permission, and whatever hesitation I had leaves my body, as I lean in closer to him.
My fingers clutch around the black puffer vest he’s wearing tonight, holding on for dear life as he deepens the kiss, making me dizzy in the process.
His fingers tangle in the hair at the back of my head, and a low groan vibrates through him when I arch further into him.
He pulls back, just enough to take a breath, and enough for me to remember what we’re doing.
“I think we need a word,” I manage to get out through shaky breaths.
“Like, a safe word? Have you been holding out your kinky tendencies on me?”
“No.” I shake my head, taking a step back, desperate for some air. “No, I just mean like a code word. In case…in case one of us gets confused…” I trail off, wanting him to get the hint but not wanting to alarm him.
“Confused about?”
“Just…” I huff a breath, annoyed that he’s going to make me say it. “In case either one of us starts to think that any of this is real.”
“Ah.” He nods his head, biting down on his bottom lip.
“I just mean—”
“No, I got it. Don’t worry. I’ll never think this is real.”
I try not to physically rear back, but hearing him say the words is a painful fucking blow.
I knew he wouldn’t catch feelings. I very clearly meant that I’m the one who needed a code word.
His words continue to echo louder in my head with each breath I try to take, and somehow, that’s going to have to be enough for me.
“How about butterfly?”
“What?” So caught off guard, my voice is nothing but a whisper.
“Butterfly can be our safe word.”
“Code word!” I throw back at him.
“Whatever.” He smiles, and a peek of his green gum shows through his teeth. My stomach dips at the reminder of his spearmint taste.
“Why butterfly?”
He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I can’t imagine I would ever be saying the word butterfly. It’s…safe,” he says with a wink.
I turn around, placing my forearms on the railing again, and only now do I remember that Nathan is out here. Or at least he was. I scan the backyard once, and he’s nowhere to be found.
“Okay.”
Maverick leans his arms beside me. The cool material of his vest brushes against my bare arm, sending goosebumps over my skin.
“Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to change the word to Beetlejuice?” I ask.
“Nah. I’m just trying to get the word out of my system. You know how you never thought you might want something, until you’re told you can’t have it? Same thing.”
“Yeah,” I breathe, forcing my gaze away from those blue eyes that could so easily trick me into thinking this isn’t all fake.
I know exactly what that feels like.