Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
From our very first encounter in the VIP room, he’s both set my teeth on edge and made me want to curl up in his lap like a sleepy little kitten.
He makes me want to trust him, even while erecting the walls around my heart higher and higher.
But Maverick doesn’t need to know any of that, so eventually, I settle on a half-truth. “I’m just used to it being the two of us, and while I’m happy to have Orion and Stella in our lives, it’s an adjustment, too.”
“So, you’re not mad?” he asks, his usually smooth forehead lined with confusion.
“No, baby, I’m not mad.”
The way his shoulders sag with relief sends a spike of guilt through me. It’s a stark reminder that I need to be more cautious in shielding him from some of the more grown-up aspects of our rapidly changing situation.
“Do you want to watch tv while I take a quick shower?”
He thinks on it for a minute and then asks, “Can I watch the Spiderman cartoon? It’s on Disney Plus.”
“We don’t have that—”
“Yuh-huh!” he insists. “Orion showed me!”
I grab the remote from my nightstand and pass it to him. To my surprise, he expertly navigates through the various menus, until the show he wants fills the screen.
“Well, I stand corrected.” I pad over to the bathroom. “Holler if you need me, okay?”
I see him nod from the corner of my eye before I slide the door closed and start the shower.
Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed in a pair of ripped black jeans, a white thermal, and my favorite blue plaid flannel.
“Can I wear my blue shirt, too?” Maverick asks, looking up at me with big, puppy eyes. “Then we can match!”
“Of course, you can.” I riffle through the hangers on his side of the closet until I find the miniature version of my shirt. “Here you go.”
He slides his arms through the sleeves and then turns to face me. “Will you help with the buttons?”
“Do you want to try it first?”
He sighs but gets to work.
While he carefully lines buttons with holes, I slide my feet into my well-worn leather boots and toss my hair into a quick but cute braid. I want to look nice, but not necessarily like I’m trying to look nice.
Which is silly, since Orion’s into Birdie and not the real me. He’s into body glitter and flashing lights, not the stretch marks they both work to hide.
“I did it, Mama!” Maverick shouts, freeing me from my pity party.
“You sure did.” His buttons are off by one, but he’s so proud of himself that I let it go. “You look sharp, my man.”
According to my weather app, it’s a mild day, so I slip one of his hoodies into my bag instead of making him wear a jacket. “Ready?”
He giggles, and the sound settles the sea of anxiety churning within me. “I need shoes!”
I glance down at his feet and laugh. “I guess you do. Put ‘em on.”
“Can I wear the light up ones? I bet Orion will think they’re so cool. And they make me run really fast.”
“Go for it.”
He whoops in delight before grabbing his shoes and putting them on. “Ready!”
“Good, let’s go.”
We find Orion and Stella waiting in the living room—well, Orion’s waiting, Stella’s still rocking her pajamas.
“Aren’t you coming, too?” I ask, hoping like hell she says yes, because I need a buffer between me and this man. You know, other than my four-year-old, who pretty much thinks Orion hung the sun.
Stella coughs, and I swear to God, it’s faker than ninety percent of my coworkers’ tits. “I’m sick.”
“Oh, really?”
She nods and dabs at her nose with a tissue.
I narrow my eyes and she widens hers, rearranging her face into one of pure innocence.
Oblivious to her subterfuge, Maverick gasps and runs out of the room. “I hope you feel better, but I don’t want your yucky germs. We’re making Jell-O at school tomorrow, and Miss Jenna is letting us mix the flavors!”
To her credit, Stella never breaks character. “I understand,” she murmurs sadly, sniffling and coughing a few more times.
Orion scratches the back of his neck and then checks the time on his phone. “Well… We better get going if we want to beat the crowd.”
The three of us tell Stella goodbye and then head outside.
“My truck or—”
“Maverick’s still in a booster seat.”
“I can put it in my truck.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mama!” Maverick shouts, running circles around us. “Look how tall his truck is! I bet you’d need a ladder to get in!”
“Then you would, too.” I raise my brows.
“Nu-uh!” He adopts his power pose, with one hand on his hip and the other raised with his fist toward the sky. “I have superpowers!”
I laugh, wishing he could stay this innocent forever. “I should have known.”
He nods solemnly. “Now you know.”