Chapter Thirty
Avery
The next morning, I woke up in Maverick’s arms. I ached in places I’d never even thought could be sore. When I tried to sit up, I winced and decided I better just stay where I was. However, even with the soreness, it had been the best night of my life.
Mav had been so patient. Gentle. Sexy.
I grinned as I remembered it all. My heart did a weird fluttering thing too as I recalled my big moment and how Maverick had kissed my forehead as I lost control. Sweet kisses that had made me feel treasured.
Looking at Mav beside me—still asleep and pretty damn adorable—my eyes watered.
Messy, light brown hair, a squared masculine jaw that somehow was softened in his sleep, and lips that just begged to be kissed—he was beautiful. His arm was under my head, and I kissed his bicep, loving the warmth of his skin.
He really was the sun, and like the sun, he had warmed something in me. Brought me to life.
I’d heard how virgins got sentimental after their first time, so maybe that was it.
“Hey, you,” he croaked in a sleep heavy voice. His blue eyes, surrounded by long, dark lashes, focused on me. “How do you feel?”
“Perfect,” I said, snuggling against his side. “A little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”
After making out a little, we got out of bed and got dressed. Not having other clothes with me, I put on my same ones from last night.
“Damn,” I said, buttoning my pants. “What the hell are we gonna tell your parents?”
“Dad’s at work,” Maverick answered with a shrug. “And Mom won’t care. She’s the one who bought me the lube and condoms.”
I snorted. “Wow. That’s kinda awesome. Weird… but it makes sense. She—”
He came up behind me and pulled me into his arms, making me forget what I’d been about to say. His soft lips brushed across my ear, sending chills all over my body.
“If you don’t stop,” I said, pushing back into him. “I’m going to throw you back in bed and not let you out of it for the next three hours.”
He released me, and I was almost disappointed that he hadn’t taken me up on the challenge. Probably for the best, though, because I wasn’t sure I could handle that kind of action when I was already aching.
We went downstairs, and his mom did a double take upon seeing us. It was extremely awkward for me, but Mav was at ease. He explained to her that we’d nearly gotten arrested for being out so late—not a complete lie because that officer had a jerk vibe to him—so we’d come back here.
She was cool with it. And then she made us breakfast.
Around noon, Maverick took me home. I didn’t want to leave so early, but I hadn’t told Declan I wasn’t coming home the night before, so I got the feeling he was probably freaking out. I was right. Right when I walked through the door, he was in my face. For once, it wasn’t to scream at me either.
He hugged me.
“Tell me next time if you aren’t gonna come home,” Declan said. He stepped back and had this funny look on his face. “Whoa. When did I become you? Being a worry wart is your thing.”
“Oh how the tides have turned,” I said.
“Shut up.”
He proved to be an even greater worrier than I thought when I went toward the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” Declan asked, gripping my arm.
“D, I’m fine,” I reassured him, hating the fear in his brown eyes. “I’m not doing… that. I just need to shower.”
“Yeah, you do,” he agreed, curling his nose. “You reek of…” His eyes widened. “Oh my god you finally got laid!”
“We are not having this conversation,” I said, taking off toward the bathroom. Mortified.
I slammed the door in his face and leaned against it, smiling. He was on the other side, making kissing noises and saying Mav’s name in a high-pitched voice, followed by sex noises that’d put all those porno girls to shame.
Rolling my eyes, I stepped away from the door, discarded my clothes, and showered.
***
I wasn’t much of an English person. Math and science were more my thing. I liked reading—especially the House of Night books that I’d already read books four, five, and six and started on the seventh—but actually learning about literature, grammar, and all of that? No. It didn’t hold my interest.
As Mr. Harper—aka Dan as he didn’t mind being called—lectured about Dante’s The Divine Comedy that day in English class, I zoned.
It was a week into December. Thanksgiving break had passed way too fast. However, it had been unexpectedly amazing.
When Karen had found out my family didn’t have Thanksgiving plans, she’d invited us over to her house. So I got to spend the holiday with Mav, and our families had come together for that special day. I’d never had such an extravagant meal as that, but the company had been the best part.
My mom had helped Karen in the kitchen that morning, preparing for the big dinner, while me, Mav, and Declan had played video games.
Mav’s dad had probably been the most surprising part of the day, though. He’d lacked all of his judgmental behavior and had seemed to genuinely enjoy visiting with us. He gave some odd looks to my mom that peeved me a little, but other than that, nothing had gone wrong.
It had been a great day followed by an even greater night—for various reasons.
I blushed as I remembered.
“How about you, Avery?” Dan asked.
I zeroed in on him, feeling the heat in my cheeks grow even hotter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the question.”
“What does Dante’s journey to Hell represent?” Dan repeated, ever so patient.
We’d read the poem in class and discussed it in great detail, but I wasn’t the best at interpreting hidden meanings and all of that.
“He was dead to the world,” I answered, looking down at my desk. I didn’t have that class with Mav, otherwise I would’ve looked at him for the confidence I needed. “Dante basically started at rock bottom. I think before you can rise above your demons and recover, you have to hit that level of pain. Face them.”
“Why do you think that?” Dan asked.
“Because it makes you want something more,” I answered. “The journey through Hell was essential to Dante learning and being able to see how harmful his behavior was. The next level is acceptance of those wrongs and healing.”
Dan started delving deeper into the meaning, and my mind slipped once more.
I was Dante and Maverick was Beatrice. Beatrice had led Dante through the levels of Heaven and given him his first taste of light and hope. Just like Mav had done for me, being the light to my dark.
He’d made me want to be a better person.
“I have an assignment for you guys,” Dan said, drawing my attention back to him. “Dante had his demons, and now I want you to write about yours. Don’t worry. No one will read it except for me. Write what scares you, what you wish you could change. Anything that evokes a strong emotion from you. Make me feel what you feel through your words. It can be as long as you want it to be, but at least a page and a half for the minimum.”
A page and a half? Hell, I could write a book about mine.
He grabbed a marker and wrote the assignment and due date on the board before circling it. December twenty-first: the last day of school before Christmas break. That gave me exactly two weeks to get it written.
After school, I met Maverick at his locker. Right away, he pulled me in for a kiss.
“Easy there, big guy, let’s keep this G rated.”
He chuckled and put his arm around my shoulders. As we walked down the hall, I slipped my arm around his waist. I felt so safe with him.
Even my demons couldn’t reach me.
I had only cut once since the night I told him, and it had been a small episode. Mom had come home early from work one night, and she’d had a mark on her face. I’d been so pissed off that I’d just shut down. Not having a way to talk to Mav, and not wanting to wake up Declan, I’d fallen back into my old ways.
The good that came from that ordeal, though? She told me she was actively searching for another job and would quit the club when she found one.
“Hey. You okay?” Maverick asked, stopping in the middle of the hall.
“Yeah,” I answered, scanning the people moving past us before looking at him. “Just expecting to see David running up at me with a knife or something.”
David had been suspended for three days after attacking me. After his suspension, he’d come back for a few more days before leaving for good. With his parents’ separation, they had moved to another town, and he’d had to change schools.
“He won’t ever be around you again,” Mav said, touching my cheek. “I heard he’s in some kind of alternative school for his bad behavior.”
“Dudes!” Ricky ran up and squeezed his way between us. Always having to be the center—literally—of attention. “Y’all goin’ out tonight?”
“Maybe,” Mav answered, stepping forward, grabbing Ricky, and switching spots with him in a fluid movement. “There’s a new slasher movie we want to see.”
The musical had ended, so he didn’t have shows on weekends anymore.
“The movies?” Ricky asked, scrunching up his face. “On a Friday night? No, let’s go to the pool hall again.”
“I’d be fine with that,” I said, returning my arm around Mav’s waist. I loved that when we were this close, my head only reached his neck, so I was able to cuddle against him and not block his sight. Benefits of having a tall boyfriend. “We can see our movie tomorrow instead at the matinee.”
Maverick peered down at me. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” He kissed my nose before looking back at Ricky. “Why aren’t you up Trav’s ass? Is he busy tonight?”
“First of all, I would never be anywhere near his ass,” Ricky specified with a matter-of-fact tone. “And second, yeah, home boy is goin’ out with your home girl. Again. For the millionth time.”
“Well they are dating,” I said, grinning when Ricky shot me a glare. “I mean, that’s what couples do.”
“I liked you better when you were quiet,” Ricky said, but by the smile that followed, I knew he was joking.
Before we got outside, we passed Ben, and I asked him if he wanted to play pool with us that night. I’d gone over to his house a lot lately—when I wasn’t hanging out with Mav and sometimes the three of us hung out together—and as if it were possible, we’d grown even closer as friends.
I had a hunch it’d be a friendship that would last way past high school.
“Dang it!” Ben said. “I can’t tonight. I promised Dad I’d go to some freaking cooking class with him. He wants to be the next Gordon Ramsey. Before I know it, he’s gonna be running around the kitchen, insulting everyone and calling them idiot sandwiches.”
I laughed, remembering the episodes of Hell’s Kitchen that Ben’s dad had been watching some of the times I’d gone over there.
“We need another person,” Ricky pointed out as we exited the building and were walking through the courtyard. “It won’t be fair to have two against one.”
Maverick got out his phone and texted someone. I tried not to be that boyfriend, so I didn’t look at his screen. I trusted him.
When we got to his car, his phone dinged, and he read a text before opening my door for me. He replied to it with a smile on his face before walking around to his side and sliding into the car.
“I texted Garrett to see if he was working tonight,” Mav said, dropping his phone in the cup holder. “He’s not, so I asked if he wanted to come with us to the pool hall. Now Ricky can’t complain because we’ll have an even number.”
“Cool,” I said, buckling my seatbelt. “I’m excited.”
And I was. A night out with the guys would’ve been something I dreaded before getting close to Mav, but now I actually looked forward to social interaction—to an extent. I mean, I still didn’t like most people, but the people I did like were like my tribe, and I’d do anything for them.
Before he backed out of the parking lot, Mav reached over and gently placed his hand on my thigh. “Still doing okay?”
I knew what he was asking.
“Yeah. I haven’t since that night with Mom,” I answered, covering his hand with mine.
I’d promised both Mav and Declan that I’d tell them if I cut, and knowing how disappointed they’d be when I did it actually aided in preventing me from doing it. Mav had helped me set goals; short ones that would expand to long term. Like three days without cutting. One week without it.
They were small victories that helped my state of mind. Made me feel like I was accomplishing something.
“How does Chinese sound for dinner?” he asked, grabbing my hand as he started driving out of the lot.
“I could totally go for some sweet and sour chicken,” I answered just as my stomach growled.
“You got it, sweet thang,” Mav said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
I rolled my eyes. “You and your pet names. I’m going to puke.”
But really, I loved them. Each time he called me babe or baby it made my stomach do flips.
After stopping by my house to let Declan know my plans, we went out to eat before hitting the pool hall. Ricky was already there when we arrived, wearing a backwards cap and leaning over the table to hit the eight ball in the top left pocket. He scratched instead.
“About time you guys showed up,” he said, straightening his stance. “I’ve been here for years.”
“We knew you needed the practice,” I casually said, adding a side shrug.
Ricky cut his eyes at me. “Boy, you is evil. Like, if you were a toy, you’d be a Lego. One of the small ones you never realize is there until you step on it in the middle of the night barefoot.”
“That’s very specific,” I said, fighting a laugh.
“Garrett from the coffee shop is stopping by to hang with us,” Maverick said after getting a stick and chalking it. “I hope that’s cool.”
“Totally,” Ricky said.
I didn’t miss the way he checked his shirt, though, smoothing it down before taking off his hat, running his fingers through his dark hair, and replacing the cap back on his head. The mention of Garrett had put him on edge.
“You wanna rack them?” Mav asked, grabbing the triangle and placing it on the table.
It took Ricky a moment to realize the question had been directed at him. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Garrett arrived about five minutes later, and right when he walked up to the table, Ricky’s face lit up like the fourth of July.
“Sorry I’m late,” Garrett said in an apologetic tone. “I had to drive from campus and traffic was worse than I thought it’d be.”
“No problem at all.” Ricky smiled and leaned against the stick.
“Why doesn’t he get the third degree for being late, but we do?” Maverick asked, furrowing his brow. “I call shenanigans.”
Ricky blushed before saying, “Shut your Clark Kent face and break.”
As Maverick grabbed the cue ball and placed it on the green felt, I watched the way his muscles moved under his shirt, and how his thick arms flexed as he bent to take his shot. Damn he was hot. And the way his stare flickered to mine before he hit the ball made me shift my weight to my other leg and discreetly adjust myself.
I knew every inch of his body, and the sounds he made when I touched certain parts of it. The memory was singed into my brain—and my heart. We’d had so much sex lately that it was a miracle I could even walk. The physical release was out of this world incredible, but it was the emotional connection when we did it that I loved most.
“Looks like we’re solids,” Garrett said, slapping his hand on Ricky’s chest.
Ricky looked at the spot he’d been touched before lifting his gaze to the shaggy blond haired guy in front of him. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
Now, I wasn’t an expert at picking out flirting or any of that… but Ricky was acting strange. Well, stranger than his usual behavior.
Perhaps—just like the rest of us—he had a secret too.
It was Garrett’s turn after Mav made in three of our balls and missed, so he lined up his shot before popping it into the pocket. He missed his second shot.
“It’s your turn, babe,” Mav said, coming up behind me and kissing my shoulder.
I smiled.
Maverick was the cheesiest, most die-hard romantic I’d ever met, and I wouldn’t change a thing about him.