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“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Sam.”
“Then why the hell would you risk your career to go back home to a small town? A town, I might add, that youwantedto desperately escape.”
She’s not wrong.
After Seth’s death and Scar’s attempted suicide, I couldn’t handle the pain that came with being there, and the agonizing torture of not being around Scar. As a result, I lost her.
A decision I will regret for the rest of my life.
“I know, but things changed.”
“You meansomeone,” she drawls. “Alright, I’ll take care of it. I’m giving you three weeks to get your head out of your ass, and then you’re coming back to LA and finishing the damn season. Got it?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, thanks, Sam.”
“Yeah, whatever. Just remember, I’m the fucking gatekeeper to your career.” And with that, she hangs up on me.
Tossing my phone on the seat beside me, I lean my head back against the headrest. I glance to my right, and my breath catches.
What the…?
She's more beautiful than ever. I haven't seen Scar for the last few years and have missed her like crazy. After Seth died, she lost her way, almost costing her life. I could have lost her that night.
I couldn’t turn away from her even if I wanted to. She looks fucking amazing with the way her pink waves dance in the wind. I smile at seeing that she kept her hair pink.
Her hips sway in the skinniest jeans I have ever seen. I glimpse a sliver of her soft, creamy skin on display as the sun kisses her shoulder. Scar walks without a care in the world, phone in hand, pink earbuds in, and her bag over one shoulder. She's wearing oversized sunglasses that hide her beautiful hazel eyes that sparkle in the light.
I knew she had gotten tattoos after Seth died, but I haven’t seen the one full of bright colors before.
Fuck. Scar is sexy, and I don't know how I feel about that.
I feel like a fucking teenager again. Nervous as fuck, wondering what to say to her or if she will reject me. With my hand on the door handle, ready to meet her halfway, the Bluetooth in my car rings, alerting me to a phone call. When I look to see who's calling, I groan at the name flashing on the screen.
Skylar.
I hit ignore, push open the door, and slam it shut. Lowering my cap over my eyes, I lean against the driver's side door, waiting for Scar to look up at me. She’s walking my way when the light turns green, not paying attention to her surroundings. But she must feel my gaze because she lifts her head and freezes.
I stuff my hands into my pockets and smile at her. She angles her head like she's trying to figure out if her eyes are playing tricks on her.
No, Tinkerbelle. I'm really here.
"Hey, Scar."
Scar crosses her arms over her chest and takes a few steps toward me until she's no longer in the middle of the road.
She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, pushing her hair off her beautiful heart-shaped face. "What are youdoing here?" Her melodic voice causes all the blood to rush to my dick.
I try to speak, but nothing comes out. It's like her presence has me hypnotized.
"Maverick?"
Ouch, that stings. She only calls me by my full name when she's pissed at or disappointed in me.
"Whatever. I don't have time for this," she mutters. She spins on her heels and starts to walk away, but I grab her before she leaves without talking to me.
"Wait. I'm sorry." The electricity from her touch pulses through me, but she yanks free as if I burned her.
I run my gaze up and down her body and notice the curves on her hips, and that her breasts are bigger—fuller.
