One, because I trust that he wouldn’t have asked me if it wasn’t important. Maverick may be overly protective, but he doesn’t frighten the children or disrupt their routines without a reason.
And two, I don’t really feel like it’s my place to involve myself in Moretti family drama.
That’s probably ridiculous considering I’m dating theDonof the family.
At some point, I should probably ask what in the world is happening. I should demand to know why armed men are suddenly everywhere and why the estate is beginning to feel less like a home and more like a heavily guarded fortress.
But I haven’t seen much of Maverick since the day before yesterday.
He left for a meeting, returned furious, and went straight to the gym. He stayed there so long that by the time he finally cameupstairs, the sun was beginning to rise and it was time for me to start my day.
He hasn’t been coming to bed.
That shouldn’t bother me as much as it does.
It isn’t as though we’ve had a conversation about sleeping arrangements. Maverick never officially invited me to share his bed every night, and I never asked if that was what he wanted.
It simply happened.
I slept beside him on our first night here, and I’ve slept beside him every night since.
Despite all his heated looks, filthy promises, and the way his hands sometimes linger as though he’s imagining everything he wants to do to me, he’s been nothing but a gentleman.
Every night, he climbs into bed beside me and pulls me against him. Sometimes he kisses my shoulder. Other times, his lips brush the side of my neck before he settles behind me, his arm wrapped securely around my waist.
Then he falls asleep.
No demands.
No pressure.
He just holds me.
But he always comes to bed with me.
Even when he has work to finish, he eventually appears. Even when he thinks I’m already asleep, I feel the mattress dip beneath his weight. I feel his body settle behind mine and his arm curl around me as if holding me is as necessary to him as sleep.
But now, if he comes to bed at all, it’s right when it’s time for me to get up.
I keep telling myself it was because he was angry. Whatever happened during that meeting must have been serious if it drove him into the gym for most of the night.
Still, a quiet, uneasy thought has been following me around.
Did I do something wrong?
I replay the past few days in my mind, searching for something I said or did that might have upset him.
Maybe I shouldn’t have dismissed what happened with Rory so quickly. Maverick clearly wasn’t happy that he picked Livy up from school without telling me. At the time, I was so relieved to learn she was safe that I didn’t think much about anything else.
Maybe Maverick believes I ignored his concerns.
Or maybe this has nothing to do with me at all.
The logical part of my brain knows that.
Unfortunately, the insecure part keeps reminding me that Maverick came home, walked past me, and spent the entire night somewhere else.
I just wish I knew whether he’s avoiding me or protecting me from something he doesn’t want me to know.
