So why can’t I seem to keep a smile on my face?
Probably because of the letter burning a hole through my purse.
After I noticed it last night when Tori left, I stuffed it in my purse, not ready to open it. And since I came to the bar right after work to celebrate Tori’s birthday, the letter is with me. Taunting me. I can practically hear it talking to me—calling me a coward.
Yes, I know letters can’t talk. That’s just the level of crazy I’ve reached.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning? It’s my birthday, so get happy, biatch,” my sister says as she all but tackles me at our table. She’s been hanging with the guys at the dartboards, while I’ve been standing guard at the table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, holding up my drink. “I have a margarita, I’m people watching, which you know I love, and I’m out with you guys. How could I not be happy?”
“My dear, sweet sister, you might say you’re happy, but your resting bitch face says another thing.” She takes a seat beside me. “What’s up? Talk to me.”
I sigh, knowing that if I don’t tell her, she’ll just keep pestering me. And then she’ll play the it’s my birthday card. Might as well get it over with.
“I got a letter yesterday that I’ve been waiting on. It’s in my purse now, and . . . I’m nervous to open it.”
“A letter? Is it finally child support from the sperm donor? If so, we need to be tearing into that shit!” Tori reaches over and grabs my purse, not caring about boundaries as she starts to dig through it.
I try to stop her, but I’m not quick enough and she pulls out the envelope before I can stop her. Damn, she’s quick.
“Scarlett? Is this what I think it is?” Tori practically yells.
“Shh! Can you keep it down? I don’t want people to know!”
“Know what?” Annabelle asks as she and her husband, Jaxson, take a seat at the table. Maverick and Kalum aren’t too far behind, followed by Ben and Amanda, the newest additions to our crew.
“My dear, sweet sister here has a letter from the admissions department of a college. I’m guessing it’s a notification of whether or not she got into some sort of program that she’s neglected to tell me about.”
All eyes are on me now, and even though I didn’t want anyone to know, these are my friends. I have to remind myself that this is my tribe. Whether or not I got in, they’ll still love and support me.
“So for the last year or so, I’ve been thinking about getting my bachelor’s degree in nursing. When I got the CNA, I thought it would be enough. And don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Well, I love that one—not the second one waiting tables. Anyway, I started looking into it and realized that some of my credits would transfer over if I decided to go for it. And maybe, if I went back to school, I could quit the second job and make a better living for Grant and me.”
I take a drink, needing a second before admitting the next part.
“One day a few months ago . . . I don’t know, I was feeling inspired. So I applied for a program at UIC with absolutely no hope of getting in. But now even if I do, I won’t be able to afford it. I don’t know if I want to get accepted or not.”
“Wait. You don’t know if you got in?” Ben asks, very invested in my story.
“Nope. That’s what this letter is. I’ve been too scared to open it.”
“I’m not!” Tori starts to rip open the letter before Annabelle stops her.
“Tori! Did you ever consider that Scarlett may not want all of us knowing her business?” Annabelle asks, trying to reason with my crazy sister.
“Gorgeous, chill out,” Kalum adds, placing his hand over hers. “Scarlett hasn’t opened it for a good reason. Maybe try to respect her wishes?”
God love Kalum right now trying to reel in a buzzed Tori. But if it’s left up to me, that letter will sit unopened for the next 10 years.
“Let her open it. My emotions are all over the place about it, so at least if I know, I can be more focused with my freak-out.”
Even though the bar is crowded, I swear it turns dead silent during the five seconds it takes Tori to open the envelope. Annabelle grabs my hand—giving it a squeeze as Tori glances over the letter.
“To Scarlett Brennan, We at the University of Illinois at Chicago College of Nursing are pleased to welcome you into our program! Blah blah blah, more blah . . . because of your prior credits, you are on track to graduate from our program in three years. Please contact our admissions office and schedule a meeting with your counselor about taking your next steps. Holy shit, Scarlett, you got in!”
Cheers ring out from the bar and I’m flooded with hugs and congratulations from my friends and a few people who overheard the conversation.
I love how excited my friends are for me. I wish I felt the same way.
“What’s the matter?” Maverick asks. “Shouldn’t you be happy? This is great news!”
I shake my head, the others now realizing they are way more excited than I am.
“It is. I can’t believe I got in. But it’s pointless; I can’t afford it.”
“You can get student loans. I’m sure you qualify,” Annabelle says.
“It’s not that. If I do this, I’ll have to quit my second job to be able to study. And I need that money. My rent is going up when I renew my lease next month. And Grant isn’t exactly cheap. He’s growing like a weed and I swear every day he grows out of something else. So while I’d love to be able to enroll, it’s not for me. At least right now.”
Tori slams down her drink, standing up to draw everyone’s attention.
“No. This is bullshit. My sister is trying to better herself and give my nephew a better life. We are going to figure this out,” Tori says. She sits in silence for a whole two seconds before exclaiming, “Wait! You can move in with Kalum and me!”
I grab her hand and pull her back down. I love my sister, and it might be her birthday, but she needs to calm the heck down right now.
“Tori, thank you, but I’m not moving in with you and Kalum. You two just moved in together, so you don’t need my three-year-old and me in your space. It’s okay. It’s just not meant to be right now.”
And that’s what I tell myself that night as I lie in bed, reading the letter for the 20th time.
It’s just not meant to be.
4
Maverick
“We need to talk.”
Jaxson and my brother don’t wait for a reply before barging into my office and taking seats across from me at my desk.
“Well, come on in. Have a seat. I’m happy to accommodate you both, even though you’ve shown up without any warning . . .”
Now that the second location of M.K. Custom Cars has opened, I don’t see my brother nearly as much as I used to. Day to day, I run this shop while he takes care of the original location, so it makes visits like this few and far between. Not that I’m complaining. Don’t get me wrong—I love my brother. We’ve been to hell and back together and even briefly made a return appearance. But having some space between us is not a bad thing.
“You need to let Scarlett and Grant move in with you.”
I shake my head and blink my eyes a few times. No way Kalum just said what I think he did.
“I need to what?”
“You need to let Scarlett and Grant move in with you so she can take her nursing classes.”
Again, I hear his words just fine, but I can’t believe he would actually ask me that.
“I don’t need to do anything.”
“No, asshole, you do,” Kalum says, trying to keep his cool with me. “You have plenty of room. Hell, you have an entire suite you don’t use. I doubt you’d even realize she was there. In addition to it being the right thing to do, she’s our friend, and you need to help her out.”
“I feel bad for her. I do. But the answer is no.”
Everything my brother and I just said is true—well, except the whole “need to help her” part. That
shit just isn’t going to happen.
I do have the room. Plenty of it. More than I know what to do with. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to welcome others into my space. Especially a kid.
While my friends are making do with 1,000-square-foot apartments that are considered big in the city, I’m in the suburbs sitting on a three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom house with a mother-in-law apartment. It has a perfect yard that any little boy would love to play in. And it’s in a good, safe neighborhood where he could ride his bicycle up and down the streets. Not to mention, it’s quiet—away from the city—where Scarlett could study and not be disturbed by sirens and other noises at all hours of the day or night.
But there’s a reason I live alone and away from city life. I like my quiet. I like having a life away from my brothers and friends. And call me a selfish bastard, but having Scarlett and her son there would be a disruption in my life I don’t need.
“Can I ask why?” Jaxson asks, trying to play the good cop.
“Listen, I feel bad for her. And if this were just for a month or so, I’d be in. But this is a long-term thing. Nursing school is going to take her at least three years, possibly more. Plus, I don’t need a kid waking me up at all hours of the night.”
“He’s three, Maverick. It’s not like he still takes a midnight feeding,” Kalum says, clearly frustrated with me. “You’re being an asshole.”
“The point is, there’s a reason I live away from the city, and away from you all. I like having a part of my life that’s just mine. Does that make me selfish? Sure. I’m a selfish fucking bastard. But I think at this point in my life, I’ve earned the right to be.”
I hate the looks Kalum and Jaxson are giving me right now. They know why I don’t want anyone—especially a woman—moving in with me. They were there when I bought the house, and then later, when I realized it was just going to be me living there.
“She’s a single mom, Mav. Think about that. Imagine if this were Mom.”
“Really? That’s the card you’re playing? Low fucking blow, Kal.”
Our mom, who is a freaking saint, raised us while working two, sometimes three, jobs. My dad, if you could even call him that, died when we were kids. But even before that, the fact that he was dealing and using drugs got in the way of him being anything you could call a parent. I can’t imagine what my mom would have done if she’d had an opportunity like Scarlett’s.
No, I do. She would’ve done everything in her power to make it happen, knowing that one day it would help Kalum and me.
And here I am being a bastard because I don’t want someone disrupting my life.
“Think about it, Mav,” Kalum says in a calmer tone. “She and Grant can stay in the mother-in-law apartment. Size-wise, it’s about the same as what they’re living in now. The only time you’d even see them is when they’re coming or going. Heck, you could even charge her rent, which I’m sure would be cheaper than what she’s paying for the shithole she lives in now. And it’d be safer too.”
“I wouldn’t charge her rent. I’m not that big of an asshole.”
“Could’ve fooled me. Because right now, you’re being a giant asshole for not letting her come live with you, so I really don’t see the difference.”
I sigh and lean back in my chair. I really hate the idea of Scarlett and Grant living with me. And it’s not even about the two of them specifically. It’s just the idea of others in my space—even if it’s a basement apartment I rarely visit.
“She’s not Jenna, Maverick. If that’s what this is about, you know she’s not her.”
My eyes snap to his. How dare he fucking bring her up.
“I know she’s not her. But thanks for the reminder.”
My tone clearly states that I’m done with this conversation, yet they don’t budge.
“Mav, I get that it’s hard to let someone into your life. But this isn’t a woman trying to worm her way into your heart. I hate that you were hurt, but you know a relationship isn’t what Scarlett needs right now, right? She just needs a place to stay so she can get out of that apartment and start working for her future. You could give her that. Think about it.”
I nod, knowing that Kalum is right. We sit in silence for a few minutes, letting everything settle. I want to help her. I know what it’s like being the son of an overworked, underpaid single mom. I can help her. I have the means and the space.
But I just don’t know if I can.
5
Scarlett
My dad always told me that, when going into a negotiation, you need to have all your weapons ready to fire.
So I brought all I could think of with me to Maverick’s house: a freshly-baked batch of chocolate chip cookies and my adorable son.
I’m hoping that between the two, he won’t be able to say no to me.
Ever since I found out that I got accepted, I haven’t been able to stop myself from feeling excited about the possibility of going back to school. Just the idea of being able to give Grant a better life, where I’d have a predictable schedule minus the stress of working a second job, is something I can’t turn down.
Yes, the money situation will be hard for a little while. I’ll have to give up my second job. But even if Maverick tells me no, I’ve decided I’ll be able to make it work. It’ll be a bitch, but I can make it happen. Eating Ramen for two or three years will be worth it.
I need to do this. For my son. For myself.
As I pull into the development Kalum gave me directions to, I have to blink a few times. I don’t know what I expected Maverick’s house to look like, but it sure as heck wasn’t this: a huge blue-gray ranch-style home with white shutters, a front porch swing, and a white picket fence.
White. Picket. Fence. That’s the stuff you only see in movies or after Chip and Joanna get done fixing it up. Not in front of a house owned by a former car thief turned successful business owner.
All of the nerves I had driving here are now multiplying as I walk up to his door. I have to concentrate harder than I care to admit to make sure I don’t drop the cookies.
I press the doorbell and wait, gripping Grant’s hand a little harder than probably needed.
If my heart started beating faster just looking at Maverick’s house, then seeing him in his home makes my heart all but stop.
I’ve always found Maverick attractive. Dark hair has always been my weakness. But when he answers the door in a white T-shirt that shows off every single muscle on his tattooed arms and a pair of gray sweatpants that sit perfectly on his hips, I have to control myself.
Another plus of Grant being next to me.
“Scarlett? What are you doing here?”
Yeah, I might not have told him I was coming over. Tori told me that Kalum and Jaxson presented the idea to him, and though he was pretty against it, they had a feeling he could be convinced.
So here I am. Ready to do some convincing. With a cute three-year-old and a container full of cookies.
“Hi, Maverick. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No. I try to lay pretty low on Sundays. Want to come in?”
I step inside his house, which is a little difficult because Grant is glued to my leg. He’s not a shy kid once you get to know him. But considering he’s never met Maverick—plus I’m sure the tattoos are a bit intimidating to a toddler—I don’t blame my boy for being a little bashful.
Maverick leads us to his living room, and along the way we pass the best kitchen I’ve ever seen in person. I could bake so many cookies in there.
“Your kitchen is gorgeous,” I can’t help but comment as we take a seat on his sectional couch. “Do you use it a lot?”
He shakes his head, sitting on the other end of the sectional. “Not as much as I should for how much it cost me to put in.”
“Why did you put in a kitchen like that if you don’t cook?”
His face hardens at my question. Okay then. Don’t talk about the kitchen.
“If you’ve come to talk
to me about staying here, the answer is no, Scarlett.”
Nothing like going straight for the punch. His words are harsh and he’s clearly angry that I’ve shown up unannounced. His tone makes Grant climb into my lap.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare him,” Maverick says as he comes a little closer. “I’m Maverick. What’s your name, buddy?”
Grant looks up at me, and his blue eyes are curious—asking me how to handle this.
“It’s okay, buddy. Can you tell mommy’s friend your name?”
“Gwant,” he says shyly.
“Well, hello Grant,” Maverick reaches out his fist, but Grant is still a bit nervous. He looks at me again, making sure this is okay. I nod, and my boy reaches back and gives the best fist bump his three-year-old self can.
“Your kid can fist bump? That’s good parenting right there, Scarlett.”
I laugh. “He’s Tori’s nephew, so it’s not much of a surprise.”
“He can also probably flip people off then.” We both laugh, knowing he’s absolutely right.
Maverick sits back and sighs—the look on his face clearly revealing that he doesn’t like what he’s about to say.
“Scarlett, I’d love to help you out. I know what it’s like for single moms. And I am so proud of you for wanting to go back and advance your career. I just . . .”
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” I say, cutting him off—not wanting to hear the reasons why he thinks this is a terrible idea. “But I’ll pay rent. Unfortunately, I can only afford $500 a month. Daycare is expensive and I’ll need to lean on it a little more because of classes. But I’ll buy groceries, and cook, and help clean up, and whatever else I can do. Because this would help me out more than you could ever know.”
As if we’d rehearsed it, and I swear to God we hadn’t, Grant gets a cookie out of the container and takes it to Maverick. My heart melts a little at the gesture.
Say You're Mine Page 37
