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That night, I barely sleep at all, in part because my brain won’t shut off, but also because we spend half the night alternating between making out and slow, unhurried sex.
In the morning, we make breakfast, both of us quiet and introspective. I want to stay longer, but I have courses I need to prepare for and so does Maverick. And he has hockey practice early tomorrow, so staying another night isn’t possible, or reasonable.
But still, I drag my feet, packing slowly, wishing I could pause the world. I stand at the end of the bed, my suitcase open. I packed sexy things, even though I was supposedly on the fence about spending New Year’s with Maverick. Every item I drop back in the suitcase now has a memory associated with it—mostly of him peeling me out of my clothes and us picking them up off the floor later.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, fighting the prickle behind my eyes. I promised myself I wouldn’t get emotional, not in front of Maverick.
“You want me to bring anything out to the truck?”
I turn to find him standing in the doorway, forearm propped against the jamb. He’s wearing a long-sleeve white Henley and gray sweatpants. What is it with men and gray fucking sweatpants?
“You’re not wearing that home, are you?”
He looks down and runs a hand over his chest. “Yeah, why?”
I point to his crotch. “I can see the outline of your peen, which means everyone else can too.”
“Who else is going to see it when I’m in the truck?”
“What if we have to stop for gas, or a bathroom break?”
“We’re like an hour drive from Chicago, and I filled up before I picked you up from the airport. I haven’t driven anywhere since, so I won’t need gas. And I can hold it for an hour, and I’m assuming you can too. Unless you’re planning to drink a liter of water before we hit the road.”
“It’ll be distracting.”
He arches a brow.
I throw my hands in the air. “I don’t want to leave this bubble!” I drop my head so he can’t see how close I am to the edge.
His socked feet appear in my vision, along with the crotch of his gray sweatpants, and the prominent bulge looks even more obvious this close up. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry or both.
“Hey.” He wraps his arms around me. “I’m yours whenever you want me.”
“It would be smarter for both of us if we stopped seeing each other.” The words feel like a serrated blade to my heart.
“Is that what you want?”
“No. But you having to sneak around and hide what’s going on isn’t what I want either.”
“We can take it one day at a time, Clover. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. It can be whatever we want it to be, for as long as we want.”
I melt into his embrace. In this moment, it feels like there’s somehow both a million miles and no years separating us.
* * *
Returningto school and the start of the semester brings a new set of complications. When we can coordinate our schedules, Maverick resorts to sneaking over to my place after dark and leaving before the sun rises. But I find myself running into him on campus constantly, which creates anxiety I’m not used to.
At the beginning of the third week of the spring semester, I’m on the way to the gym, which I’ve been avoiding since the sauna incident. The need to release some of this nervous energy wins out, though. And so does the desire to swim, despite the chlorinated water.
Just as I reach the door to the building, it flies open, and I’m face-to-face with Maverick. His hair is wet, the ends curling around a beanie, and he has a gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, Cl—Professor Sweet.” He glances over his shoulder, maybe checking to see who’s around. When he’s sure it’s the two of us, his gaze moves over me on a slow sweep.
“Hi.” I fight to keep my voice from coming out pitchy and barely win, but I lose the battle not to fidget and tuck my hair behind my ear. Then I try to make it less obvious by adjusting my glasses. I feel like I have a scarlet letter tattooed on my forehead, as though everyone can see through me.
“You know I can come over in a few hours, and we can work out together.” One corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk, but he steps aside, making room for me to pass.
I’m about to make a comment about this being my warmup, but another student comes jogging through the foyer, heading straight for us.
