Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
NEVAEH
The moment I step over the threshold into the house, I’m far more nervous than I should be. Why? Because Maverick is right behind me. Because he knows it’s my birthday. Because he was pissed about not knowing what today was. And last, because something in his eyes confuses me.
I’m still conflicted about him showing up at the gym, having followed me. I mean, what did he have to talk to me about? If he was going to wait until I got home, why follow me there anyway?
The whole ordeal confounds me, and I don’t know how to handle it.
To top it off, Jasper and Milo did something special for me.
I feel like I’m teetering . . . completely unbalanced right now.
They’d given me something so special I’ll never forget it.
Not only because it was the best cake ever, but the gifts were all thoughtful.
I didn’t even realize I’d made so many friends at the gym, but they’ve been there and gifted me with all my favorite things.
The best of all, though, is Gizmo. Jasper and Milo, I can’t believe they’d gone out of their way to get me a Maine coon kitten.
I had one years ago I named Stormy, all gray and black coloring, he was beautiful.
I told them I wanted to look at getting another one because they make the best companions.
I take a deep breath and step farther into the house, kneel down, and set Gizmo down for the first time in his new home. When I straighten, I can all but feel the heat of Maverick . . . right there . . . standing so close to me. He surprises me more when his hands grip my waist.
“What’s going on?” I blurt out and twirl around to face him, taking a step backward. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Maverick watches me closely, his arms crossing over that impressive chest that I’ve seen more than a few times shirtless.
My fingers itch to touch him, to rub against him and play with every inch of his sweet, beautiful work of art body.
I know he works out at the clubhouse and even gets in the ring they have there.
Shoot, I’ve even seen him fight in said ring against another member of the club.
“How come you didn’t tell any of us it was your birthday?” he asks, cocking his head slightly, legs planted firmly in place, and in the position we’re standing in, I’m blocked from getting around him.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, not wanting to talk about this.
“Bullshit, Sweets. Tell me why you didn’t tell us this shit.” Maverick steps farther into my space and my breath catches.
I don’t want to answer him. If I do, it’s me giving a part of my past, and I don’t want that, but if I don’t tell him, he’ll keep pushing until I tell him something.
Sighing, I wrap my arms around my waist and lower my head, not looking at him, or even the floor for that matter. The memories threaten to push through the barrier as I fight them back. “I was kidnapped on my birthday and sold to the man you all saved me from.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Maverick says, grinding out through gritted teeth. The next second, he pulls me in his arms. “I’m sorry, Nevaeh, I really am.”
I nod and burrow my face in his chest, doing my best to keep the walls to the barrier firmly in place, but it’s like they want to rattle open which I refuse to allow happen.
I clear my throat and pull away from him, getting myself back in check. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Sweets,” he says softly, eyes gentle yet watchful in a way I’ve never noticed him look at me or anyone before. “You know you don’t have to be strong all the time. I’m here, and you can talk to me.”
I shake my head and wrap my arms around myself in the protective manner I’ve done all my life. “Just tell me what you wanted to talk to me about.”
Maverick releases a sigh and shakes his head. “This evening, we’re heading out to the coast.”
“We?” I furrow my brow. “You mean you and the club?”
“No, I mean you and me.” He gestures between us and looks down to where Gizmo makes himself known once more by clawing at Maverick’s jeans. “And I guess Gizmo too.”
“Um, what do you mean we’re going to the coast? Why am I going with you? You didn’t even ask.” The thought of going anywhere with Maverick has my heart beating faster and my body longing for his touch.
“A few other brothers are gonna meet us there, but Viking wants you with me on this. Thinks you can help us out. You’ve got damn good instincts when it comes to character judgment and considering what we’re going to be looking at, it would be helpful to have.
We’ll be there for a few days, figure we can also enjoy the beach while we’re there,” he explains, picking up Gizmo.
I’m too surprised by what he’s disclosed to me that I’m having a hard time struggling with the fact he’s snuggling with my kitten. “What about work?” The question rolls off my lips before I realize I asked it.
“Apricot already knows by now since Grimm was in on the conversation,” he says, sliding his eyes back to me from looking at Gizmo.
“She will be cool about it, so you’re good.
Now, I do suggest going ahead and packing enough for a week to be on the safe side.
And since we’ll have this guy,” he holds up Gizmo, “we’ll take my truck. ”
“Uh . . . okay.” I blink, not sure what to say. My blood roars in my veins, making it hard to focus on anything. “When are we leaving?”
“We’ll head out later this evening after dinner. It’ll take us a few hours to get there, but I hate tourist traffic, so I prefer to get there late and not be in bumper-to-bumper traffic.”
I nod, understanding what he means. If we’re going to the coast, it can be horrible dealing with people rushing. I’m not a fan of driving and haven’t been since I first learned how to drive. My mom and dad used . . . I shut the thought down before I can allow it to complete itself in my mind.
“I guess I’ll go pack then,” I remark and reach for Gizmo just as someone knocks on the door.
“You do that, Sweets. I’ll handle the door and get dinner started,” Maverick states, staring at me and assessing me.
Again, I nod, this time stepping away from Maverick and with quick steps, I make my way out of the living space that contains the living room, dining area, and kitchen all in one swoop.
It’s an open floor so you can be anywhere in the space and still be able to see the TV.
I thought this was cool because it meant when 9-1-1: Lone Star was on, I didn’t have to miss seeing Rob Lowe or Jim Parrack in action.
I also didn’t miss 9-1-1, the first one with Oliver Stark and Ryan Guzman.
Those two are awesome. Plus, Ryan’s character’s kid, Christopher, is so cute.
I love how he’s just so sweet and smart.
I wonder if Maverick would ever sit and watch either show with me.
We’ve never done that before, sat and watched anything.
I always seem to bolt away from him at any given chance.
But it seems that won’t be happening anymore.
There’s no way to get away from him, not when I’ll be in a truck with him for hours, or the fact we’ll be all but alone away from the clubhouse.
In my room, I set Gizmo down and take a deep breath, feeling my chest heave with the knowledge. Images of possibilities pop into my head unwanted. Well, not totally, but there’s no way any of that would happen.
Not when I’m filth, and he’s . . . well, he’s perfection.
A knock comes at my door nearly an hour later. I guess I’ve been using the time to not only pack but hide away from Maverick while I freak the hell out about what to put in my bag.
I mean, sure, I’ve worn shorts and tank tops around him, but we’re going to a beach.
It’s nice out, the weather is nice and hot.
Perfect time for bikinis and such. It’s something I haven’t worn in a long time.
Ryann, Peyton, and Fawn had all convinced me to buy one, but I haven’t worn it.
The damn thing still has the tags on it.
There’s a lot of reasons I’ve not put it on, and it’s just been sitting in my drawer.
It’s bad enough I have to see the scars left behind, but wearing a bikini would put those scars on display for others to see.
They’d see my shame and question how I got them.
They’d want to know why I’ve got the words whore forever marking my creamy skin.
Sure, I could hide it by wearing a one-piece, but still, what happens if I decide to remove the clothes for someone. It’s another reason I refuse to allow myself to think of being with anyone. Let alone Maverick.
“Nevaeh,” Maverick calls out from the other side of the door, getting my focus rather than my continuing to flip out.
“It’s unlocked,” I yell, not wanting to get close to the door.
I watch as the doorknob turns and the door pushes open. Maverick leans against the frame, arms crossing over his now shirtless chest. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Really?” I ask, furrowing my brow. “I didn’t think we had anything to cook.”
“We didn’t.” He shrugs and grins. “That’s who was at the door. I sent a list to one of the prospects and had him bring food here,” he explains and straightens. “Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”
Shocked by this news, I stare at him feeling dumbfounded but also conflicted because flip-out mode wants to take over even more.
I know this because, in the next instance, I blurt out, “I don’t know what to pack for the beach.
I mean I have a bikini, but only because the girls talked me into getting it.
It still has the tags because I told myself I’d never wear it. ”
Maverick loses his grin, comes into my room, and closes the distance between the two of us. My breathing ragged, it nearly ceases when he grips my chin between two fingers and wraps an arm around my waist.
“Just pack what you want. Pack what you feel comfortable in. You don’t want to wear a bikini, then so fuckin’ be it.
If you want a body suit, we’ll get you one.
Want board shorts and a tee, then so what?
You need to be you, Sweets. We’re going to the coast, you know it’s hot out, and I’ll tell you now, you would be a walking wet dream in a bikini. ”
With that said he drops his fingers from my chin, reaches down and grabs my hand. “We’ll worry about packing later. Let’s eat, then I’ll help you get organized. All right?”
I nod, unable to speak. I mean, who can speak words after what he just said?
He thinks I’d be a walking wet dream. A shudder rushes through me and I’m left conflicted because I want to feel that way for him, but I know what’s scarred into my body that he doesn’t know about.
And that thought right there, puts me back in my place, and I figure I’ll just get a one-piece when we get down there instead of worrying about it.
Maverick guides me out of the room, Gizmo having stayed behind, snoozing on my bed. He takes me into the dining area, where two plates were set with steaks, baked potatoes, and zucchini slices with cheese sprinkled on them. It all looks delicious and smells even better.
“Time to eat,” he announces, holding out a chair for me.
Talk about him being a gentleman. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him doing this for another woman.
Then again, I don’t hear of him with women period.
“But save room, ‘cause we’ve got dessert waiting for us, after which we’ll be eating while watching a movie on TV.
Once we do that, then we’ll go back to packing your shit before we get on the road. ”
Well, there you go. Can Maverick be any more perfect?