Say You're Mine

by Alexis Winter

  But he didn’t have to take Grant today. He knows I could’ve called Tori. He didn’t have to get me medicine. But he did.

  And he hasn’t had to do half the things he’s done for me these last few months. Watching Grant for me the times I’ve needed to study. Cooking me dinner. Rubbing my feet after work and a long day at school.

  But he’s done all of that, because he’s Maverick. And he’s in this. Just like he said he was. It’s like today was the fever-induced smack across the head I needed in order to really see it.

  “That smile makes me think someone likes the idea of Maverick upstairs playing daddy daycare?” Tori says, giving my feet a squeeze.

  I shake the smile off my face. I didn’t mean to reveal how I was feeling. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It’s okay if you have feelings for him, Scarlett,” Annabelle adds. “Maverick is a good man. You could fall for much worse guys. You have fallen for much worse guys.”

  “Exactly,” I say, and damn this fever, because I’m giving away all kinds of shit I don’t mean to be letting out in the open.

  “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

  “Nothing. It means nothing. I have a fever and I don’t know what I’m saying. I should probably sleep.”

  I try to lie down, but my asshole sister steals my blanket. I don’t know how I’m related to her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We are going to talk, because I have a feeling you need your head adjusted. And it has nothing to do with your fever. If you agree to this mini-therapy session, I will give you your blanket back. If you don’t, then you will suffer.”

  Fucking bitch.

  “Fine, Dr. Tori. What do you think is my problem?”

  She turns to fully face me, still holding my feet and the blanket hostage. “I think you have feelings for Maverick, but something is holding you back. And I have a feeling his name is Asswipe. Which I don’t get because his ass is in jail where it belongs.”

  “What Tori is trying to say, sweetie, is that it’s clear there are feelings between the two of you, so we don’t know why you’re holding back.”

  Ah, the ol’ good cop/bad cop routine. I remember the days when I got to be the bad cop to Tori. And the good cop to Annabelle.

  I miss being a cop in this scenario.

  “Who says I’m holding back? Maybe I’m not interested in Maverick that way?” Maybe if I delay them a little more, they will give up this inquisition.

  “Bullshit.”

  “What she said.”

  My head is beginning to pound again and I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with the fever.

  “Fine. He’s perfect. He’s smart and funny and handsome and great with my kid and he wants me, but I can’t do it because I’m scared as fuck he’ll leave me. They all leave me, so why wouldn’t he? Now give me back my damn blanket!”

  Wow. I never thought I’d admit all of that out loud, even to Tori and Annabelle. Who knew a dose of cold medicine would be my truth serum?

  “Who leaves you?” Tori asks, but this time without her usual snark.

  The can of worms is open. No use in closing it now.

  “All of them. Every man I’ve ever dated has left me. Why would Maverick be any different? If I don’t let him in, then he can’t hurt me.”

  “That’s not true,” Annabelle says. “What happened to that guy last year? Nick? He seemed like a good guy.”

  “She quit calling him back after two dates,” Tori answers.

  “What about Jake?”

  “He made it to three.”

  “Didn’t you tell us about a cute medical sales rep?”

  “She wouldn’t even give him her phone number.”

  The three of us are silent for a few minutes. They aren’t wrong. Those guys were nice enough; it just wasn’t right. I don’t have to fall in love with every man I go out with, right?

  “Oh my God, I’ve got it!” Tori screams, throwing my legs in the air as she stands up. Which leaves my blanket unattended. I hurry up and grab it before she realizes her mistake.

  “O wise one, please tell me where I have gone wrong in my life,” I say, allowing my sarcasm to pour through.

  “Who was the first guy to break up with you?” Tori asks.

  “Jason Smith? That was back in, like, freshman year.”

  “And why did he break up with you?”

  “Because he moved.” That’s mostly the answer.

  “No, he broke up with you because he ‘moved’ to the juvenile detention center,” Tori explains.

  “Why did he have to go to juvie?” Annabelle asks.

  Tori flattens me with a look. God, why is she bringing this up?

  “Because he stole money from my dad and me.”

  Damn. I forgot about that.

  “Then who was the asshole who dumped you before prom?”

  “Calvin Mitchell. But I don’t see how that has anything to do with—”

  “He broke up with you two weeks before prom, but he wouldn’t have been able to go anyway, because he got suspended for smoking weed in the school parking lot.”

  She’s not wrong.

  “Damn, Scarlett. You have a thing for the bad boys,” Annabelle chimes in, sitting back in her chair like she’s watching the best new show on Netflix.

  “Exactly,” Tori says. “She has a thing for bad boys who no doubt leave her because they are trash humans. Then she pushes away the good ones because she thinks they will dump her too, when in fact she’s basing all of this information on her shitty taste in men.”

  “Hello? I’m right here.”

  “Well, then you heard everything I just said,” Tori says, taking a seat again. “Scarlett, let me ask you something. Why do you keep going back to Ryan? And don’t give me that whole he’s Grant’s father bullshit, because you and I both know that I’ve been more of a father than that asswipe has ever been.”

  She’s right. That is what I always say. But until now, no one has really pushed for the real answer.

  “Because at least if he leaves me, then I know it’s coming.”

  “Scarlett,” Annabelle asks softly, taking my hand, “why would you want to be with someone like that? Don’t you want to be with a person who loves you, and who you love back?”

  A tear escapes, because in her soft and soothing tone, Annabelle just hit the nail on the head.

  “I do. But I don’t . . . I’m not worth . . . they all . . . what if Maverick leaves me too?”

  I realize I said his name, but I don’t care. No denying anything at this point.

  “Sissy, come here.” Tori wraps me in a hug, using a nickname she hasn’t spoken since I was 10. “That man upstairs is falling for you and your boy. And I think you’re falling for him too. Let it happen. He’s one of the good ones.”

  I nod into her chest, because at this point, that’s all I can do.

  “Open up your heart. Give him a chance,” Tori says, stroking my hair. “Because you know if he fucks up, I will kick his ass.”

  30

  Maverick

  It took Tori a solid week to beat the bug she had, which gave me more time to formulate Operation Pretty Girl, which is a name I’m no longer saying out loud, because Kalum has informed me that it sounds, in his words, “stalkery.”

  But the second she said she was feeling better—both physically and mentally—after missing a week of school and work, I was ready.

  Step one: Date night.

  “What do you have going on tonight?” I ask as we maneuver through our morning kitchen routine. She has a perfectly good cooking space in the basement, but every morning she and Grant eat their breakfast upstairs.

  And I’m not complaining.

  “Just catching up on studying. What about you?” she says, cutting Grant’s French toast into small pieces. Yes, the woman makes French toast even when it’s not a Sunday or a holiday.

  I’m never letting her go.

  “Well, I was hoping that a ce
rtain beautiful woman and her equally handsome son would like to go on a date tonight?” After having to cancel all the spa stuff, I figured it might be best to not have any more surprise days.

  “A date?” She finally makes eye contact with me, seemingly surprised at the words that came out of my mouth.

  “Yes. A date.”

  “Date!” Grant exclaims. He has no clue what it means, but he loves repeating what he hears these days. We’ve made sure Tori is aware of this. She just laughed and got an evil look in her eye.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asks, which I take as a good sign. She could’ve easily turned me down, claiming she still needed to study or some crap like that. Not that her studying is crap, but she has perfect grades in all her courses and that’s even with missing a week.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out later.” Okay, I might not be done with all of my surprises. “I just want to take you and Grant for a night out.”

  I’m pretty sure she’s about to cry, and I don’t know why. What did I do wrong? Does she really hate surprises?

  I walk over and take her hand, giving her knuckles a few gentle strokes with my thumb.

  “What is it, pretty girl?”

  She sniffs and shakes her head. “It’s just . . . no one has ever . . . you want to include Grant?”

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because you really can’t go to a fancy restaurant with a preschooler. And what if he’s hyper and running around? What if he throws a tantrum? We can just stay in. Or you can take someone else out.”

  I let go of her hand, but only to bring her into an embrace. I don’t know how this woman, who is the strongest woman I’ve ever met who isn’t my mother, doubts herself so much. Or us. I hate that she does.

  “I want to spend my nights—and days—with you. And Grant. You’re a package deal. One I’m pretty fond of.”

  I place a kiss on her forehead.

  “Don’t you worry about anything. I’ll pick Grant up from daycare today. You take all the time you need after work and school. There’s no rush for tonight. There’s no rush for anything.”

  “Yes! I beat you again! Take that, Mr. Former Car Thief!”

  “In my defense, I didn’t steal bikes. Plus, the code on this game is all jacked up. No way I didn’t make that turn before I crashed. It’s rigged.”

  “Excuses, excuses. All I know is that I won.”

  “Mommy win!”

  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Scarlett as beautiful as she is right now. Relaxed, smiling, and straddling a video game motorcycle. Even if she is screaming to the crowd at Jack and Jill’s—an all-ages bar, grill, and arcade—about my former profession. Honestly, she could tell everyone I committed murder and I wouldn’t care.

  She looks young, happy, and relaxed. And I helped put that smile on her face. It’s a better feeling than the first time I stole a car. And that felt damn good.

  “Again!” Grant yells from my lap, insisting that he wants to help me drive the motorcycle.

  “I thought you wanted to go play Skee-Ball?” Scarlett asks, getting off the bike. Note to self: take her out on my bike.

  “Skee!”

  We take Grant over to the Skee-Ball game, where we help him roll the ball up the ramp. Every time it goes into one of the holes, he squeals with delight. Out of the three of us, I don’t know who’s having more fun.

  Actually, I do. It’s me. Never in a million years would I have ever thought that the perfect date night was hanging out with a four-year-old and his mom at an arcade, filled up on pizza, fries, and Coca-Cola. But it is.

  We make our way to a basketball game that Grant insists he can play. Because I can’t say no to the kid, he and I tag-team it. When “we” make 30 baskets and the bells and whistles start going off, his joy can’t be contained. If I could freeze a moment in time, it would be this one right here. This little guy smiling at me like I just stole a piece of the moon for him.

  “Good job, Grant! I know it wasn’t Maverick who made those baskets,” my brother says from behind me.

  “Oh, shut it. Like you could do better,” Tori says.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Scarlett asks, pulling both her sister and Kalum in for a hug.

  “Well, I’m an accomplished Whack-a-Mole player, so I need to keep my skills up,” Kalum says, walking over and taking Grant from my arms. “That, and it’s time we take this little guy for a sleepover at Uncle Kalum and Aunt Tori’s house tonight.”

  The word “sleepover” excites Grant so much that I’m pretty sure the kid is going to explode from joy. Scarlett gives me a look, wondering if this is part of the date night. The smirk I return says it all.

  “I didn’t know you guys were taking him. I didn’t pack a bag,” Scarlett says, all of a sudden going into mom mode.

  “All taken care of,” Tori says. “Maverick packed him a bag today and dropped it off. We’re all set for the night and morning. Come and get him whenever you two have energy.”

  Scarlett goes from confusion to anger to embarrassment in about point-five seconds. God, she’s adorable.

  “How about we go get ice cream, buddy?” Kalum asks, earning another scream of delight from Grant.

  “It’s your funeral,” Scarlett says, walking over and giving Grant a hug and a kiss before my brother and Tori leave.

  Once they’re out of sight, Scarlett turns to me with a devilish smile on her face.

  “So, was this part of the surprise?”

  I nod. “Yup. I wanted to do something with the three of us, but I also wanted some time just with you. I thought this was the best of both worlds.”

  Her smile says it all. “Thank you, Maverick. Tonight has been . . .”

  I reach for her hand and bring her in for a gentle kiss, forcing myself to keep it short. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t not kiss her for another second.

  When our lips release and we’re both smiling like idiots, I know I made the right call.

  “So, where to next?”

  I kiss her again. “That’s part of the surprise.”

  31

  Scarlett

  I didn’t know Skee-Ball could be such a turn-on.

  As Maverick was helping Grant roll the ball earlier, he bent over, which highlighted his magnificent ass. Then my attention turned to his arm flexing ever so slightly as he extended it. God, just thinking about it again makes me cross and uncross my legs for just the slightest bit of relief.

  Even hours later, as we now sit at a quiet dive bar not far from Maverick’s place, I still feel the effects of earlier events.

  Namely, the kiss. It was nothing mind-blowing. We’d shared deeper, more passionate kisses during our one night together, but the emotion behind it was enough to knock the wind out of me.

  When Tori and Kalum showed up to take Grant, I’d never been more excited to see my sister. And if I’d had my way, we would have skipped the bar altogether. But I knew how much this night meant to Maverick, and I wanted to make sure he enjoyed it as much as I did.

  Because I’m tired of denying it. I’m tired of fighting it. I’m tired of being alone.

  I don’t know what this thing with Maverick will end up being, but I want to see where it goes. I owe it to myself, and him, to give us this chance.

  “Did you have a good time tonight?” he asks, reaching for my hands.

  “I did. Thank you so much for . . . well, everything. Not just tonight. You’re amazing, Maverick.”

  He gives my hands a squeeze before bringing them up to his lips to place a kiss on each. I don’t know how I’ve been able to deny myself this man for so long, but that ends tonight.

  “I just wanted to give you a night away from work and school. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

  “I’d like to keep enjoying myself . . . maybe back at our place? If you want to?”

  I don’t know which part of my words turned his gaze from serene to blazing, but before I know it, Maverick is throwing money on
the table and yanking me out of our booth. I can’t contain my giggle as he all but pulls my arm out of its socket as we head to his truck.

  Thank God we live only a few blocks away, because he’s using his former car thief driving skills to get a normally five-minute drive down to three.

  “Is this what you drove like when you stole cars?” I have to ask, the bad boy part of his past turning me on in conjunction with the sweet side of Maverick I’m falling for.

  “No. I only drive like this when the woman I’m crazy about tells me she wants to have sex with me.”

  I can’t help but laugh, though I’m silenced as Maverick abruptly stops the car in his driveway. His lips are on mine before he even puts it in park.

  “Maverick,” I moan out, able to say words since his mouth is now feasting on my neck. “We need to go inside. What if the neighbors see?”

  “Let them,” he grumbles out, still sucking on my neck while trying to untuck the blouse I wore tonight.

  “If you take me in right now, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  His lips freeze on my neck. I figured that would get his attention.

  “Come on, Maverick. Don’t you want to feel what it would be like to have my mouth wrapped around your cock?”

  That does it. My attempt at dirty talk does the trick, and before I know it, I’m being dragged out of the truck and inside the house. The door is barely closed before I’m pressed against it, being kissed as if lives depended on it.

  Our hands are everywhere, both of us ready to combust from anticipation. He finally gets my blouse off, quickly discarding that along with my bra. My hands are loosening his belt—needing to touch his length.

  I finally have it undone and his zipper down, giving my hand the access it needs. My fingers wrap around his hardness, stroking him up and down as much as I can through his briefs. He’s huge and thick. I’m barely able to get my fingers all the way around him. It’s a miracle that he’s able to fit inside me.

  “Fuck, Scarlett. That feels too damn good, baby.” His words ignite something in me. My hand continues to work as I lower myself to my knees, licking my lips as my intention becomes clear.