“Like he needs his ego inflated.” I poke Maverick in the chest. “Wipe that smirk off your face.”
“Sorry, Professor Sweet . . . as pie.” His grin widens.
I purse my lips. “We need to leave for the airport.”
“I know. I’m heading to Lake Geneva soon. Open this on Christmas Day.” He tucks a small box into my purse. “I’ll be thinking about you. A lot. Mostly while I’m in the shower. And bed.” He tucks his finger under my chin and angles my head so he can kiss me. Chastely this time. “Call me when you land.”
“Okay.”
“Later, bestie.” He winks at Sophia and slips out the back door.
“So, just a fling, huh?” Sophia says as I lock the door and follow her down the hall.
“I’m in the middle of a divorce. It can’t be anything more than that.”
She’s undeterred. “You’re in deep already, aren’t you?”
I sigh. “I think so.”
“Well, no matter what, you deserve to have this. Better to have lusted and lost than never to have lusted at all, right?”
I laugh, but it’s already so much more than lust, even with all the boundaries I had in place until now. I have no idea what condition my heart is going to be in by the time it ends.
As much as I’d like to be able to cut ties and walk now, to not come back for New Year’s, my body misses him already. And my head? Well, it’s a mess.
24
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
Maverick
As I arrive in Lake Geneva late on Saturday night, a full day and a half after my siblings, I get a message from Clover telling me she’s made it to Florida and that she needs a little time to think things through.
That gnawing feeling that settled in my gut when I had to sneak out of her house this morning like a sordid secret grew all day long. Even when I had a chance to drop off a Christmas present and say goodbye, it didn’t ease up.
And now I know why.
I can’t blame her for needing time—not when she’s still trying to get out of her marriage and her ex is showing up whenever the fuck he wants. While there isn’t anything wrong with what we’re doing, I get the issue. I’m sleeping with my hot former professor. She’s sleeping with a former student.
Six months from now, she’d be sleeping with a professional hockey player.
Timing is a real jerk.
I park my truck beside my sister’s car and send a single message in return:
Maverick: Backing off. I’ll wait to hear from you.
The humping dots appear and disappear several times.
So I send one more message, to alleviate as much guilt as I can for her.
Maverick: You don’t need to placate me. I know there’s more at stake for you. I’d rather you say nothing at all than give me lip service. I think I’ve already proven I can be patient.
My finger hovers over the button for almost a minute before I press send.
Twenty seconds later, my phone rings. I blow out a breath, nerves making my throat feel tight. I wonder if this is how any of the girls I’ve ever dumped have felt. And if it is, I owe a lot of apologies.
I answer on the third ring. “Hey.”
