“Thanks, buddy,” Maverick says, taking a bite out of the cookie. “Shit, Scarlett, these are delicious. Oh, fuck . . . I mean . . . crap . . . argh!”
I laugh. “It’s fine. Remember, he’s Tori’s nephew. For a while, I was convinced his first word was going to be a curse. Thank goodness it was mama.
Maverick eats the cookie as we laugh and Grant climbs back onto my lap. But instead of burying himself in the crook of my neck, he sits up and starts looking around. A picture of an old truck catches his eye.
“Mommy! It’s a fuck! A big fuck, Mommy!”
Maverick spits out his cookie, and I can’t contain my laughter.
“I know you said he’s Tori’s nephew, but maybe we need to move him out here just to get him farther away from her.”
I laugh again, loving that my son has been the perfect icebreaker.
“No, he’s just saying truck. Unfortunately, he has some problems with Rs. Luckily, the first time he said that, it was just him and me in the car. But Tori does get a kick out of it, and I swear she buys him toy trucks just to hear him say that.”
“He likes trucks? Hold on one second.” Maverick pops up, leaves the room, and comes back a few minutes later with a toy Tonka truck.
“Here, buddy, want to play?”
Grant’s eyes light up and he sprints off my lap toward Maverick. He takes his new toy and I’ve officially lost my son for the next 10 minutes.
“Thanks. That was sweet of you.”
“It’s no problem,” he says, taking his seat. “That was my favorite toy when I was a kid. My mom was cleaning out stuff a while back and insisted I needed it. I never thought I’d take it out of the drawer again. Luckily, I kept it.”
We fall silent, knowing it’s time to address the elephant in the room.
“Listen, Maverick, I know I’m asking a lot, but if—”
“You can stay.”
I can’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth, and I’m pretty sure he can’t either.
“Are you sure? I mean, thank you! But are you sure?”
He nods, moving a little closer to me. “Scarlett, you need to do this for you. And for him. And if I’m in a position to help you, then I’d be a grade-A asshole to not step up and help.”
I can’t help myself. I leap off my end of the couch and give Maverick the biggest hug I can muster. This man is literally my hero right now.
“Thank you so much!” I say, finally letting go of the mostly one-sided hug. “You won’t even know we’re here. Grant is a super-quiet kid. And I’ve never missed a rent payment.”
“You aren’t paying rent.”
I’m shocked into silence.
“No,” I shake my head. “I’m paying. I appreciate this, but I don’t want a handout. I might be asking for help, but I won’t be a charity case.”
“It’s not a handout, Scarlett. It’s me being able to help a friend. Plus, if my mom found out I was charging you to stay here, she’d kick my ass. So you won’t pay rent. You’ll take care of your own groceries and any other essentials you need. If the utilities go way up, we’ll talk about that, but I doubt they will. But I do have one demand.”
“Anything, Maverick. You name it.”
He leans over and takes another cookie out of the container.
“That you bake these at least once a month.”
6
Maverick
“Mavwick! I got fucks!”
These are the first words Grant says as he jumps out of the car when he and Scarlett pull up on moving day, followed by Kalum, Tori, Jaxson, and Annabelle, who were drafted into the moving crew.
“Sweetie, I told you, you can’t ask Maverick to play with your trucks until after we’re done moving our stuff.”
His eyes grow sad and I don’t know how Scarlett doesn’t say yes to everything he wants. How could a person ever say no to him?
I know I sure as hell couldn’t. When Scarlett came over asking to move in with me, I was going to say no. Then the kid gave me a damn fist bump and a cookie. I was a goner.
I lean down to Grant, who’s on the verge of tears—holding his truck he couldn’t wait to show me.
“How about this, buddy?” I say, bending down further so we’re eye level. “Let’s help everyone unpack. And then I promise we can play trucks all night. And I bet if you ask him nicely, Uncle Kalum will play too.”
“Damn right, I will! Tori never lets me play with trucks anymore.”
This turns his frown into a smile in seconds, and for the next hour, he is the best little helper his three-year-old self can be. Then he falls asleep.
Despite the mother-in-law suite being fully furnished, Scarlett still had plenty for us to unload. Apparently, having a kid equals a shitload of stuff.
“I never thought we’d be done,” Tori says, plopping onto the couch.
“Oh please. You had more when you moved in with me and you don’t have the excuse of a kid.”
She slaps Kalum on the shoulder but then proceeds to snuggle into him. I swear to God, those two can’t go five minutes without touching each other. It’s nauseating.
“So, have you two laid out your ground rules?” Jaxson asks, grabbing beers from the fridge and passing them out.
I pause to think for a second. Ground rules? Why would we need those? She has her space and I have mine. I’ll pop down every once in a while, say hello, and play trucks with Grant. Honestly, I doubt I’ll even know when she’s here at all.
“What do you mean? She lives here. I live upstairs. We went over what she’s responsible for. Ground rules. Set.”
“Well, what about when you want to have . . .” Kalum looks over to make sure Grant is still asleep. “Friends over?”
Scarlett and I look at each other, realizing we never really talked about that. It never even occurred to me.
“I’m not an ass, Kalum. If I have . . . a friend over . . . I’ll make sure Scarlett knows so she isn’t surprised. And well, Scarlett is a grown woman. She can have guests over whenever she wants.”
“Oh, I don’t have . . . that won’t be a problem,” Scarlett says quickly, almost embarrassed by having to say that.
“Bullshit!” Tori pipes in. “What happens when Asswipe comes around? You know you spread your legs for him like butter on toast whenever he decides to grace you with his presence.”
If looks could kill right now, Tori would be dead and Scarlett would be doing 20 to life. She has always been the more reserved sister, which isn’t hard given the fact that she’s related to Tori. But looking at her right now, I can’t tell if she wants to kill Tori or storm into her room and lock the door out of sheer embarrassment.
“Tori, cut her some slack,” Annabelle steps in, seeing there’s about to be a sister throwdown. “That’s Grant’s father, and he’s going to be around. And Scarlett is an adult. She can make her own decisions about who she wants to see.”
Tori mumbles something under her breath and Scarlett looks anywhere but at her. Interesting. I’d always wondered if Grant’s father was in the picture. I figured not because she never talks about him. I might not know the details, but just from this conversation, I have a pretty good idea about his involvement—or lack thereof.
Another deadbeat dad. I can relate to that. Mine was in and out of prison before dying when I was four. I don’t know if my situation was better or worse than Grant’s. His dad is apparently able to be in his life but chooses not to. Mine chose drugs over his family, which ended up costing him his life.
I don’t think Grant and I were dealt a fair hand.
“Don’t worry, Scarlett,” Kalum says, giving me a look before continuing. “At least you don’t have Airhead Amy paying you a visit every other week.”
It’s my turn to want to strangle my sibling. What does she have to do with anything?
“Who is Airhead Amy?” Annabelle asks, genuinely thinking this is something, or someone, important. Which it’s not.
“Amy is an ex of Maverick’
s from the old neighborhood,” Kalum says. “She also conveniently lives about 10 minutes from here and doesn’t mind driving over to see Maverick whenever . . . well, let’s just say she’s always on standby.”
“Amy?” Jaxson asks. “Amy who got a tramp stamp at 15? Why didn’t I know you were hooking up with her?”
“Because it’s none of anyone’s business,” I say, furious that Kalum brought her up. “And this is rich coming from you, big brother. If I remember correctly, didn’t you have a friend with benefits you kept hidden from us?”
Kalum can’t even argue, and he knows it, so he just sits back with a shit-eating grin on his face and puts his arm around Tori. When they first got together, they kept it from all of us and insisted to themselves it was just a hookup of convenience. From what they told us after we found out, that didn’t last very long before real feelings developed.
“Who wants pizza?” Scarlett asks, trying to diffuse the situation, which works. “It’s the least I can do for helping me move.”
The mood of the room settles down, but I’m still stewing inside. I honestly didn’t even consider having Amy, or any other guest, over, and how it would affect Scarlett and Grant. And Scarlett has never even mentioned a man, so it hadn’t crossed my mind.
“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry all of that came up,” Scarlett says quietly, sitting next to me on the sectional in her—my—house.
I settle down, seeing that she’s just as uncomfortable as I am.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you?”
She nods her head. “I am. And don’t worry about Grant’s father. He rarely comes around. Honestly, Grant barely knows who he is. It’s nothing to worry about. But please don’t feel like you can’t live your life because of us. We’ll stay in our space and you’ll barely know we’re here.”
I give her shoulder a squeeze, signaling we’re okay. Even though I don’t know if I am. And I can’t figure out why.
7
Scarlett
I’ve been working two jobs pretty much since Grant was born. Being on my feet all day, and going from one job to another, became something I got used to.
But what I’m feeling right now is a whole different kind of tired.
I didn’t know a brain could hurt. But it can. And mine does.
Today marks the end of my first week of school. It’s been a grind going from work to classes, and sometimes back to work, only to come home, see my boy, cook us dinner, and study until I crash. The other night, Grant fell asleep with his head on my lap, and I fell asleep with a book on my chest.
But I can already tell this is going to be worth it. It won’t be an easy or short road, but this is absolutely what I need to do for our future.
When I got pregnant, I’ll admit, I was scared shitless. When I realized that Ryan’s walk to clear his head was apparently still going on a month later, I went home for a few days because sometimes a girl just needs her mom and dad to make everything better.
My parents begged me to stay in Wisconsin and promised they would help me raise my child. They reassured me that my life wasn’t over just because I was going to be a single mother. But I insisted that I could do it on my own and that I didn’t want to do it in Smithville, the microscopic town I grew up in where everyone knows everything about your business. I didn’t want that for my child.
So I came back to Chicago, finished my CNA certification, and got a good job with benefits before I hit the third trimester.
Since then, it’s been a blur of work, diapers, feedings, and second jobs when the money got tight. But I was doing it on my own—only asking for help when I absolutely needed it.
And I absolutely needed Maverick.
I’ve only been here a few weeks, but it’s been amazing. I never knew how quiet the suburbs were. Grant hasn’t woken up once during the night because of a random alarm or siren. He has a yard to play in, and God, does he love it. The kid will run for hours as I sit on the back porch studying.
It’s kind of perfect. And I have Maverick to thank for that.
Which is why I’m coming back to the house with three bags of Chinese food. It’s the least I can do.
Even though there’s only his car in the driveway, I always feel nervous about just walking into the house. What if he has company? What if he’s sleeping?
What if he’s naked?
It’s a thought I try not to have, but sometimes it just pops into my brain. Probably because he’s the only man I see on a regular basis and I haven’t had sex in six months.
It has nothing to do with his muscles on top of muscles, or his perfectly trimmed dark beard, or the way his green eyes stand out against his dark brown hair. Or how, when he’s home, he lives in gray sweatpants that don’t leave much to the imagination.
Nope, it has nothing to do with any of that.
Even if I did want Maverick in that way, I highly doubt he would want me. I’ve always thought I was pretty enough, but not like my sister, who has legs for days, sleek jet-black hair, and a chest that would put her in line for a Victoria’s Secret campaign. Since I’ve had Grant, I know my body has changed, and not for the better.
I know my boobs aren’t what they used to be. And that I never lost those last 10 pounds of baby weight. And that I was left with horrible stretch marks. It is what it is, and I’ve learned to accept it.
Maybe one day I’ll date again. Or have sex. Maybe even have a relationship. But for now, I have enough on my plate, so random inappropriate thoughts of my landlord/roommate/friend will have to do.
Which he doesn’t help at all when I walk into the kitchen and see him looking like a bad boy fantasy come to life: dark-wash jeans paired with a crisp white button-down with the top button undone. Sleeves rolled to his elbows, showing off his tattoos. A brown belt and shoes finishing off the look. Holy hell, the man is gorgeous.
“Whoa! Are you feeding an army?” Maverick asks, taking a couple of the bags from me and placing them on the island. “Mmm, this smells delicious. Is this from Asian Palace?”
“Yup. It had good reviews and it was on the way back from the city,” I say as I put my purse down and take off my shoes. Grant made a beeline for the iPad as soon as we walked in, since Maverick showed him how to use it the other night. I now know what limiting screen time really means.
“It’s the absolute best. But did you buy food for the week? Are you having company over?”
“I . . . well . . . no . . . I just thought . . .” I swear I didn’t stutter before I moved here. “I’m so grateful for you letting me stay here. And Grant absolutely loves it. And I wanted to show you my appreciation and thought I’d surprise you with dinner. But if you’re on your way out, don’t let me ruin your plans. I’ll just put the leftovers in the fridge and you’ll have lunch tomorrow. And probably dinner.”
My embarrassment is creeping up on me, so I busy myself by setting out the containers of food. I never even considered that Maverick could have a date tonight, but I probably should have. Why would a man who looks like that sit at home on a Friday night with a single mom and her son?
I’m so focused on getting the food out that I don’t even realize that Maverick has moved next to me at the kitchen island, removing containers from the other bag.
“Have you had a break at all this week?” he asks, opening each container to inspect the contents.
“Not really,” I say, still not making eye contact with him. “It’s been work, school, work, keep my small human alive, and study all week. But it’s been good. Tiring, but good.”
Maverick stops going through his bag and picks up the one in front of me. I turn to look at him, but he’s already started gathering some silverware and plates.
“Maverick, you don’t have to do that. Please, go out on your date or whatever you have planned.”
He shakes his head, setting down the plates on the counter.
“How about this: you go take a hot shower, or bath, or whatever you fancy. Grant and I will set up dinner, and then afte
r that, maybe we can watch a movie. Unwind from the week?”
“You don’t have to do this. I can tell you have plans and I’d hate to ruin them. I feel bad.”
“The only plans I have are to destroy this General Tso’s chicken, which I can’t do until you come up from the shower, so get your ass moving, woman.”
8
Maverick
I lied. I did have plans. I know for a fact my night would’ve ended with me getting my dick sucked, followed by a decent fuck.
Instead, I’m watching Lightning McQueen lose the race, but win the hearts of kids and adults across America. I’ll admit, I’ve never watched a kids’ movie, but this one is pretty fucking great. It helps that cars and trucks are involved.
When Scarlett walked in with enough Chinese food to last us a week, I was about to text Amy that I was coming to pick her up. We normally don’t do the whole dinner thing before sex, but she’d begged me to take her to some work function, then promised she’d repay me later. She even sent me a picture of the bra-and-panty set she was wearing as her way of saying thank you.
But Scarlett’s words broke a wall around my heart. She was trying to do something nice for me. When was the last time someone did something nice for me just because? And at that moment, I didn’t care how see-through Amy’s bra was; I knew I wasn’t leaving this house tonight.
And I was more than okay with that. Especially when, after her shower, Scarlett came upstairs in a tiny tank top and leggings that highlighted every curve of her hips and ass. Which I must admit I looked at five seconds longer than I should have before remembering that she’s my roommate and friend, and that me looking at her that way is very inappropriate.
But I blame it on her long brown hair being in one of those messy buns on top of her head that for some reason I find sexy as fuck. She looked comfortable. Happy.
And I am part of the reason behind that.
“For a children’s movie, that was pretty great,” I say, turning down the sound as the credits roll through.
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