set him apart from his peers. And my ex is nothing if not competitive. But he’s also lazy. He doesn’t want to work for it. I was his assistant at the university for a reason. I did everything he didn’t want to do, which was a lot.
I was the one who found the grant. But as Craig was in the middle of filling out the application, the committee changed the rules to only married professors could apply. Shortly after that, he proposed.
And yes, I realized the ulterior reasons behind his proposal. But, I thought I loved him. We’d talked about getting married for months, so I thought it was speeding up the inevitable.
But apparently, a caged lion is more dangerous than one who roams free.
I’ve never suspected Craig of cheating on me.
Either I wasn’t paying close enough attention, or he didn’t feel the cage around his heart until after he popped the question and was about to walk down the aisle.
I shudder at the image of Craig bending Mindy over the bathroom sink. I can feel the tears starting again, and I let them come. Six years down the drain.
But now that we’re through, I truly can’t imagine returning to Los Angeles.
I stare down at my phone, mindlessly flipping through my contacts.
I have an idea.
When Kia picks up with a, “Girl, I thought you’d be on the way to your honeymoon by now!”
I barely get out a, “Yeah, about that…” before she’s talking again.
“Congrats on your marriage, hon. I’m sorry I couldn’t get off work to come to your big day. You know I love you, though, right? We may be out of college, but we’re roomies for life! Hey, speaking of, remember that night I got home so late it was nearly dawn? I was drunk off my ass, and I accidentally climbed into bed with you instead of my own bed—crazy times, huh? I wonder if…”
“Kia!” I cut her off. “There was no wedding.”
Silence. Apparently, I’ve finally found a way to shut up my college bestie.
Kia Warren and I were paired as roommates our freshman year at UCLA, and we hit it off. She’s a Chicago girl, and she moved home as soon as she graduated.
“Tell me everything,” she says finally. “Don’t leave out a piece of detail, you hear me?”
Maverick’s banging on the door by the time I finish my story to Kia.
“I have to go,” I tell her. “But I was thinking…”
“Ooooh, yes! Come stay with me!” She’s practically screaming. “I’ve got a couch with your name on it, girl!”
Bang! Followed by, “Hannah, let me in!”
“I’ll text you later,” I promise her as I end the call and go to the door.
Maverick doesn’t even look at me when he steps through the door as soon as I open it. He’s soaked through, but he managed to conceal the plastic bag of food underneath his coat, and he places it on the bed.
“Gonna jump in the shower,” he says over his shoulder as he riffles through his bag and pulls out some clothes. “Don’t wait to eat.”
I don’t plan to wait.
But by the time I’ve finished setting up the bed with two paper plates the restaurant provided for us, plus unwrapping the plastic to pull out two sets of plastic utensils and carefully putting a napkin next to each of our plates, I hear the shower turn off. I quickly unscrew the two water bottles and place one on each nightstand on either side of the bed, and then I pull out the containers of burgers and fries from the bag.
I’ve just put a burger onto each plate and shaken out half the cup of fries for each of us when the bathroom door opens.
Maverick steps into the room wearing sweats just like mine and a long-sleeved athletic shirt. His body is so hard and defined it should seriously be photographed and used as an example of perfection in the dictionary.
I feel a coiling low in my belly, something I never once felt with Craig.
“Hey,” he says from underneath the towel he’s running over his head.
“Hi,” I call out. “Food’s all ready. Thanks for picking it up.”
“No problem.” He sheds the towel, tossing it onto the sink.
And then, he raises his head and looks at me.
He swallows. Hard.
So hard that I see his Adam’s apple move in his throat.
And he’s still staring.
“What?” I finally say. I touch my damp hair that’s hanging loose down my back. “I had to take out my rat’s nest of a hairdo.