But Willow’s wrong if she thinks I’m the person to help him understand. Because I don’t mean anything to him, not really. I’m not “something great” as she put it. I’m just a girl hebailed out of a crappy situation and ended up in an even more complicated one as a result.
I look across the diamond and find him again, this broken man whose name is on the back of my shirt. And as he turns to jog off the field with the rest of his teammates, his eyes find mine, and his lips tip up ever so slightly again.
There’s no more denying it for me. I want to be the woman to put Maverick King’s heart back together again.
I don’t see him the rest of the game, as he’s in the dugout with his teammates, and I’m in the stands with Willow and her family. I’m unsure what I should do when the game ends. Do I just go home, or am I meant to wait for him? Willow takes the decision out of my hands after the Tridents make an easy win and she stands up, takes Ronan’s daughter’s hand, and gestures to me.
“Come on, let’s go find our boys.”
Ronan’s lovely mother, Pam, waves us off. “I’ll head home, see you later, girls.”
Then I’m following Willow and Peyton down the few steps to the gate that opens onto the field. It’s crowded with players, staff, media personnel, and grounds crew all bustling around. But I find Maverick quickly, leaning against the railing of the dugout, staring out at the field.
I’m not sure I’m allowed in there, so I make my way over to the other side of the railing until I’m close to him. He turns to face me, and I’m graced with another small smile.
“Hey, Specs. What did you think of your first game?”
Apparently, I’ve become quite skilled at figuring out what Maverickisn’tsaying when he talks, because I easily detect the wistfulness in his tone. He’s wishing he had been out there playing today.
“It was good. Fun. I don’t know that I understood everything that happened, though.”
He reaches a hand out, and tentatively, I place mine in his. He laces our fingers together as I glance around, certain there must be a camera on us. But there isn’t. They’re all paying attention to the other players.
“We can do some more lessons at home.”
“Okay,” I whisper back, not letting him see how that word,home,got to me. How can one word, one single word, make my entire body warm while making me feel empty at the same time?
Willow calls my name, and I look to the side to see her gesturing for me to follow her. “I think I have to go,” I say, looking back to Maverick. He gives me a nod and lets go of my hand. I turn to leave, but I haven’t taken more than two steps before he speaks again. And this time, what he says doesn’t just make me feel warm. This time, he makes the very air I breathe feel ten degrees hotter.
“You look good wearing my name, Specs.”
Chapter nineteen
Sadie
When Maverick walks out of the bathroom after his shower, there’s a strange expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” I ask, making my way over to him, concern mounting that his injury is acting up or something.
He won’t meet my gaze but gives a sharp nod. “You…you left something in there.” His clipped words are followed by him walking swiftly into the bedroom and closing the door.
Baffled, I peer in the bathroom. “Oh crap!” I hastily snatch the bra off the towel rack. Oh my God. My face is aflame with mortification. How could I have forgotten that? I’ve only just started to come to grips with admitting my full-blown attraction to the man. To myself, that is. Every night since the baseball game, where I finally saw him in his element, I’ve lain awake, tossing and turning, unable to stop my mind from fantasizing about the beautifully broken man sleeping out on the couch.
I guess it makes sense that with the lack of sleep, I’d eventually do something stupid, like forget my bra in the bathroom when I showered after finishing work earlier today. I’d changed intomy workout wear and done some yoga in the living room while Maverick finished whatever he was doing at the stadium.
He came home as I was starting to prepare dinner, and after a grunt hello, he headed straight into the bathroom. He was in there a long time, long enough for me to finish prepping dinner with the exception of adding some sliced avocado to the salad.
Now I’m stuck standing in the hallway with a maroon-coloured lace bra in hand, anxiously waiting for him to come out of the bedroom so I can put it away. And possibly suffocate some screams of embarrassment in the pillows.
He opens the door, and his gaze lands on the bra I’m clutching to my chest. Then, slowly, he drags it up to my face. We face off. Right there, in the hallway outside the bedroom. I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears, feel the heat rising within me, and the urge to kiss him growing. What would he do, I wonder? Would he push me away, or would he hold me in those strong arms. Would he plunder my mouth, taking it further than we have so far, with our chaste kisses just for show.
When he opens his mouth, I lean forward. Only to have a metaphorical bucket of cold water dumped over my head.
“Colin’s coming over to talk about your gala this weekend and what happens after that.”
“Oh.”
Yeah, that’s all I manage to say.Oh. Then he’s brushing past me and heading toward the kitchen. Apparently, we’re ignoring the bra incident.
