again. I could look at him all day, but luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice. Probably because he’s used to women staring at him.
“So other than your asshole ex-friends,” he continues as if we were never interrupted. “Who else is there for you?”
“Um…” I drag a chip through the bowl of guacamole. “My college roommate, Kia. That’s who I’m going to stay with in Chicago. And outside of her, I run pretty solo. I don’t have any family left.”
“I’m sorry,” Maverick murmurs.
His words come out halting, and pain clouds his dark eyes. Over the years, I’ve learned to differentiate between a sympathetic sentiment and an empathetic one. Maverick clearly has experienced loss before.
“Thank you.”
There’s a slight pause before he asks me softly, “How long have you been alone?”
I swallow down my emotion. “Since I was eighteen. My freshman year in college, my parents died in a car crash. I didn’t have any siblings, and they were both only children, so I don’t have other relatives.”
“So it’s just you.” He reaches for my hand across the table and touches it briefly.
“Yeah. Well, for years, it was Craig and me. But now…just me.” As I say the words out loud, I realize losing Craig is like losing a security blanket. “Honestly—and right now is the first time I’m truly admitting this—I don’t actually miss him as a person. I think what I’m going to miss is having someone to walk through life with. Because not having a witness for all the little things is hard.”
Conflicting emotions flicker across Maverick’s face like he’s debating whether or not to speak. After a moment, he does.
“I get what you’re saying,” he says quietly. “We lost my mom when I was a teenager. It was like my safety net disappeared. And I felt like I’d lost my best friend.”
“I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.” I reach for his hand. But when I find it, I don’t pull back right away. I interlace my fingers with his and leave them that way.
His expression shifts from sadness to wariness. “Hannah…”
“What?” I smile at him innocently. “Can’t two road-trippers hold hands once in a while?”
“I’m not sure,” he says slowly like he’s trying to decide himself. “Spending this much time with a woman is new to me.”
“Really? You look like the kind of guy who’d bump into a woman and end up dating her.”
He barks out a laugh. “What kind of a life do you think I lead? I’m not some crazy player, Hannah,” he adds seriously. “Yeah, I don’t do commitments. Or girlfriends. But that’s because I don’t have time for anything other than football and my family.”
“Do you go on a lot of casual dates?” I ask him, trying to sound breezy but failing utterly. My words sound breathy to my own ears.
But he doesn’t call out my obvious curiosity. He simply says, “I did in college, yeah. After-game parties and stuff.” He trails off vaguely like he’s uncomfortable.
Which would make two of us. “You must have gone to a lot of parties,” I say awkwardly.
“No more than any other college kid. I mean, maybe I did do a little extra.” His mouth quirks up. “As a football player, you’re not exactly lacking for a social life. But you can feel just as lonely at a party as when you’re alone in your room.”
Right. I bet he was super lonely with an endless number of girls falling all over him. “I didn’t go to many parties myself,” I say. “I guess because I was already spoken for.”
“You were in a relationship all through college?”
“Yep. I met Craig my first year, and that was it.” I add, “Going to a casino with you will probably be the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done.”
“I think the most impulsive thing you’ve ever done is jump into the back of some guy’s truck in your wedding dress,” he says with an admiring grin. “Having the courage to walk away from something you didn’t feel right about is a lot braver than going to a bunch of college parties.”
“Chicken burrito?” The server appears with our meals, and our private bubble is broken.
Chapter Nineteen
Maverick
Hannah digs her teeth into her bottom lip as she stares hard at the slot machine.
“This is the last of the cash I set aside to gamble with,” she mutters. “Maybe my luck will turn for the better.”
“You deserve that,” I tell her.
“You’re sweet, Maverick.”
She smiles at me, and my pulse picks up.
And then, she proceeds to