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Leaning forward, I gently wipe the tears from his face. At my contact, he closes his eyes and shudders a breath.
"Ricky," I say quietly.
At the sound of my voice, his eyes snap open, and he falls to his knees. He stares at me with pain in his eyes and lays his head in my lap. Maverick wraps his arms around my back and quietly sobs. His body shakes against me, and it's not long until my tears follow. I can feel the pain and regret radiating from his body.
"I'm so sorry," he keeps repeating like he has to convince me.
"Shh, it's okay," I assure him and rub his back. "It's not your fault."
He lifts his head and looks into my eyes. "I should've been there," he stammers brokenly.
"Ricky." I cradle his face. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry I blamed you. It wasn't right." My gaze falls to the floor. I’m ashamed to look at him, knowing I pushed him away for nothing.
"It's not what you think," he says.
I look back at him, confused.
He pulls back a little but keeps his hands on each side of me. "When you called that night…" I shake my head at him, not wanting him to explain because it no longer matters doesn't. Nothing else matters since we discovered the truth about Skylar's betrayal. The weight of it all feels heavy on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
"No, please, you have to hear this." There's a slight pause before he continues. "When you called, Skylar grabbed my phone. What you heard was me talking to one of the guys. I had a lot to drink that night. She must've deleted your call because it didn't show any calls coming in the next morning," he explains.
That makes sense and is something Skylar would do if she saw I was the one calling.
Vindictive bitch.
"You believe me, right?" His eyes bounce between mine with a frantic look as if he's afraid of my response.
"Yeah, I believe you." I smile at him.
He holds my gaze for a minute before he leans in and looks at my mouth and back to my eyes. He angles his head and places a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, I feel his breath against my cheek.
After a while, he joins me on the couch, and we sit in silence as he lies on his back with his head in my lap. I stroke his cheek as I provide him with the only comfort I know.
I sing “I Was Made for Loving You” by Tori Kelly and Ed Sheeran. Maverick sings along when Ed Sheeran’s chorus is up. It is a piece of him that he gives me. With a yearning expression, he gazes at me. My heart flutters like the wings of a hummingbird. His face softens as he wipes a tear from my face.
He smiles.
"Please don't ever push me away. I can't handle it."
I nod. "Okay."
"You promise?"
I smile. "Yeah, I promise."
SIXTY
DELAYED CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION
SCAR
As I look outside through the window, I see the snowflakes gently falling from the sky, creating a blanket of white on the ground. The snow has been falling steadily for hours, and the streets are now covered in a thick layer of snow. Following the unexpected and distressing incidents involving Cole and Skylar, we decided to delay our Christmas celebrations by a few days. We opted to stay at the penthouse the night before to give Mom and Dad some much needed alone time in the house before it is filled later tonight.
I'm sitting in the art room that Maverick built for me, wearing one of his shirts that's big enough to be a dress. It's soft and smells of his cologne, making me feel comfortable and safe.
As I paint, the colors swirl and blend on the canvas, creating a new world entirely. That's when I notice Maverick standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, and wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. His hair is tousled and unkempt, making him look even more sexy than usual, and his chest is chiseled like a Greek god. I greet him with a smile and a paintbrush to my lips. "What's up?"
Instead of using his words, he grins from ear to ear. "You look sexy as hell in my shirt, Tink."
