Chapter 19 Chloe
chloe
“Do you know what I was just thinking about?”
“The possibilities are truly endless with you,” I deadpan, not looking up from my laptop.
Savannah shifts beside me, propping her head in her hand and her elbow on the back of the couch. “Do you remember that time when your parents were out on a date and we got locked out after walking up to the gas station for candy, and then that witch helped us break in?”
My eyelids flutter as I fight the laugh ready to burst out of me. “I don’t think she was a witch. I’m pretty sure she was just drunk.”
“Well, yeah. But she was also a witch. She had, like, tarot cards and stuff.”
I don’t try to stop the giggle that escapes me now, but I do close my laptop, accepting that I’m not going to get anything done. “Don’t you have work to do?” I ask.
“Chlo.” Savannah sits up from where she was slumped over, and waves her arm around to the empty coffee shop.
My plan for the night was to keep her company, while trying to get some studying done in between, but The Den has gotten all of three to-go customers in the last two hours. My night of studying has turned into a night of, ‘Do you remember when,’ followed by a game of, ‘Would you rather.’
“Sassafras!”
Savannah grips the back of the couch, turning to face the front door, but I don’t move, save for a slow smile that betrays me at the sound of Maverick’s voice. Beside me, Savannah stands, and I swear she does some sort of hop when rounds the couch and takes off for the front door.
Without turning around, I can make out the sounds of jackets zipping and heavy feet padding across the wood floor. Parker groans, “Get a room,” followed by Noah’s voice whispering, “I’m trying.” And I know my night of studying is over because the Linden Creek hockey team has just arrived.
I place my blue light glasses onto the thick marble slab coffee table in front of me, before pulling my scrunchie from my hair and sinking back against the couch.
Strong, sure hands settle at the top of my back, digging into knots I didn’t even know I had. I tense instinctively at the contact, but one brush of Mavericks thumb, and both my head and shoulders drop back for him.
His achingly blue eyes fill my vision, but it’s that cocky fucking grin and the rumble in his voice when he says, “Miss me, Chlo?” that makes my chest flutter.
I’ve been avoiding Maverick ever since he branded me with his lips three nights ago.
The moment I forgot he was kissing me for show, was the moment I knew I was in trouble.
I thought if I stayed away from him for a few days, whatever weird feelings I was having would go away.
And even though I've thought about him more times than I’d like to admit since that night, I did actually believe that it was working.
All that work goes right out the fogged up window, though, when he rounds the couch and plops down beside me.
His legs spread out in front of him with all the ease and comfortability in the world.
Unlike me who has to force my face and body not to react when one of his thighs press against mine.
Noah carries over a tray of coffee mugs, but judging by the light brown color, I assume it’s hot chocolate. Savannah trails beside him with a can of whipped cream.
“Say when.” She sprays the whipped cream over Gabe’s cup.
“He’ll never say when,” Silas mutters from his chair. “This is going to be like Olive Garden all over again.”
“Do I even want to know?” Savannah asks.
“He made a poor girl shred his cheese while he was pretending to get distracted so she would keep going,” Noah says, pulling her into his lap.
“I like a lot of cheese!” Gabe protests.
“Yeah, we know. We saw her bicep grow in real time, shredding the whole block for you.” Noah hands Parker the can, forcing the rest of the boys to do it themselves.
“Should we work out everything for the weekend, since we’re all here?” Parker swirls the whipped cream and immediately drops it when Maverick reaches for it, leaving a smear on the ground.
“No, yeah—anywhere is good,” Maverick says, smirking and even Silas cracks a laugh.
“What’s this weekend?” I ask, trying not to laugh with them.
“Camping, Coop. Keep up,” Parker says it like I should have already known. Maverick flicks the back of his head in response, earning him another small laugh for Silas.
On the other side of the coffee table, Gabe taps his phone against his palm, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Silas sits backward in the chair beside him, lifting his chin at the confusion on his face. “What’s the problem now?” he asks.
“I’m just trying to figure out how we're going to get all the coolers in. The ranger checks before we go in.”
“We’ll just split them up beforehand, they don’t check after,” Maverick says.
“You’re going to break the law to sneak in some beer?” I ask.
Maverick turns to face me, the corner or his lip pulling up in a slow, confident smirk. “It’s the measure of the law, Chloe baby. Not the spirit.”
Out of my periphery, I catch Gabe nodding his head in agreement, and someone snorts a laugh, but I barely register it.
When Maverick drapes his arm over my shoulder, everything else falls to a blur.
His body presses against my side, and his eyes lock on mine so intensely I wonder if he’s going to kiss me again.
Nathan might not be here, but I can’t shake the thought that it’s exactly why he's doing it. My fingernails dig into my palms when he leans in closer. I tell myself I’m ready this time—or at least, I know how my body reacts to him.
He leans forward another inch, his nose brushing mine, and my eyes flutter to the beat of my racing heart.
His lips graze the tip of my nose, before he pulls back, settling in beside me like that was all he planned on doing.
I blink, caught somewhere between disbelief and the lingering warmth beneath my skin.
“Alright, who’s in charge of the tents?” Parker asks, completely unaware of what just happened.
Like it’s a reflex, Maverick, Silas, Noah, and Gabe all put a finger to their nose. Parker and I look around the room, but once again, I’m left out of whatever weird thing is happening, because immediately, Parker gets it, and he sighs, dropping his head.
Gabe’s laugh dies when he sits up straight, looking around. “Wait, there aren’t any bears there, right?”
“If there are, we'll just sick Maverick on them,” Parker says, reaching for a mug. Maverick is the only one to crack a smile, and I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t want Parker to feel bad for saying something stupid, or if he’s playing up some part that he believes people see him as.
After another half hour of camping talk, Savannah and Noah wander off under the guise of making more hot chocolate.
The boys debate over fishing spots, but their voices begin to drown out over the crackling from the fireplace.
Maverick shifts beside me, setting his mug down on the coffee table, and I shiver at the loss of his warmth.
Without a word, he pulls off his beanie, followed by his sweatshirt and hands it to me.
I blink at the shirt and then at him. There’s something quiet in his expression.
Something I can’t place but can’t ignore either.
I take the sweatshirt, my fingers curling around the fabric that’s still warm from his body.
My eyes flutter involuntarily as I pull it over myself, getting lost in the same scent that I woke up wrapped in only a few short weeks ago.
It’s a smell that brings me instant peace.
It’s like walking along the coast line and there’s nothing more than the sea breeze and sunshine on my skin.
His scent is like being doused in sunlight that seeps so deep into my bones, I can’t help but feel like everything is right. Even if only for a moment.
With lips more swollen than when she left, Savannah brings out another round of hot chocolate. Maverick hands me a mug and then notices Gabe reaching for the whipped cream. He swats his hand away with a laugh before picking up another mug and handing it to Silas.
I watch him hovering casually at the end of the couch, laughing at something Noah said.
Despite being fully involved in the conversation, I notice when his gaze flicks back to me, and I briefly wonder what he’s told them about us.
I believed him when he said he didn’t tell them this was fake, but there’s no way in hell these guys would just accept him showing up with a girlfriend one day.
This is a man who avoids commitment and is known for having a different girl in his lap every night.
They are guys, though, so maybe they just never asked.
“But she can sit with you girls.”
I blink, and the room comes back into focus.
Both Gabe and Savannah are staring at me, and I have no idea why.
Something might be wrong with me. I’m pretty sure it’s not normal to space out the way I have been lately only to come back to the present to have someone staring at me like I’m on another planet.
“Yeah.” Savannah smiles. “Of course, your new ‘girl—pause—friend’ can sit with us at the game tomorrow night,” she repeats his question for me, smiling through her words.
I’m grateful for the save but distracted once again when Maverick brings me under his arm and begins twisting a lock of my hair around his finger. I don’t look at him, but I can feel his gaze burning into me.
“I–I actually don’t think I’ll be able to make the game tomorrow night,” I manage to say.
Maverick’s hand stops, and it falls to my shoulder.
“Not coming to your man’s game? That’s cold, dog.” Gabe laughs.
I chance a peek over at him, and for the briefest second, I swear his expression morphs into something like disappointment.
“Well, it's just that I booked a new student for tutoring, and I have two scheduled back to back,” I hurry to add. “And then I have to get my own studying done. This past week has been a bit hectic, and I’ve fallen a little behind.” Not a total lie.
For the first time in my academic career, I have fallen behind.
But the rush to assure him that I have a good reason for not coming, spilled out so naturally.
I shouldn’t feel guilty for not showing up to my fake boyfriend’s game, but that flash of hurt across his face felt so real.
I’m about to assure him—and everyone else—that I’ll be at the next one, but when I open my mouth, that curve of his lip is already back.
“Apologize,” he says. His eyes stay on mine, and I don’t move, even when he begins to tilt his head almost like a predator.
He waits all of three seconds before turning fully to face Gabe.
All the quiet chatter in the room has stopped, and I look from Gabe then back to Maverick whose smile hasn’t moved but somehow looks different.
“You made my girl uncomfortable, G. Apologize.”
Gabe places his hands in a prayer position at his heart and bows his head. “My sincerest apologies, Chloe.”
Silas lets out a breath, cupping Gabe’s shoulder. “In case it wasn’t clear, that was a warning shot.”
The boys share a laugh, brushing off the moment of tension, but I can’t pull my eyes off Maverick.