Grace was just as bad, squealing when she found out Maven loved yoga and begging her to take her to a studio for a class while they were in town. She also told Maven repeatedly how jealous she was that Maven’s place was so close to the beach.
And while Dad was quieter with his interest, he loved how quick-witted Maven was, how she volleyed back and forth with me and with him. She made him bust a gut more than once throughout the night, and when Maven told him what her plans were once this assignment wrapped up, Dad’s eyes shone like she was his own daughter, and he had a right to be proud.
He pegged me with a curious look, too — one I couldn’t bear for long before I looked down at my cocktail and took a long pull.
It was surreal — having them there in my new home, having Maven there with us. And as much as I pretended to be annoyed with all the questions my family asked her, the truth was I loved it — because I got to know more about her, too. And every new little story she told, every piece of herself she revealed? It made me feel like a greedy kid in a candy store.
I wanted more of her.
I wanted all of her.
It was almost three in the morning by the time Grace dragged my yawning parents toward the door. They were staying at a hotel on the Riverwalk just a few blocks away.
“Thank you for changing your plans for us tonight, son,” Dad said, clapping my back in a tight hug. “Hope we didn’t cramp your style.”
“Please, he’s got no style to begin with,” Grace said, but she hugged me like she’d missed me, and I knew she had.
“It was a great surprise,” I told them earnestly. “Hopefully I can show you around a little before you have to go.”
“We know you’re busy,” Mom said, yawning again as I tucked her into my side. “We’re just happy to steal you away for whatever you can manage.” Her eyes lit up on a smile as she pulled away from me and framed Maven’s arms with her hands. “And you, young lady. You are just… sensational. It was so lovely spending the evening with you.”
Maven flushed. “You, as well, Mrs. Tanev.”
“I want to meet these amazing parents of yours. Let’s all have a little get together, yes?” Mom looked back at me with the question.
I glanced at Maven, who had the strangest look on her face then — like she was sick or sad or both.
“We’ll see, Mom,” I said, guiding them all toward the door.
Everyone hugged again, and I noticed my dad speaking to Maven in a low voice while Grace and Mom asked me about the International Mall in town. I tried to make out what he was saying but had no luck, and when he patted Maven’s arm with a grin, she smiled, but that same sad look was etched into her expression.
My stomach tied up in knots at the sight.
The goodbye dragged on for twenty minutes before they were gone, and as soon as the door shut, silence fell over me and Maven like a cold, wet blanket.
I stood there with my hand on the knob for a moment before swallowing and turning to face her. She looked as if she were in a daze, her eyes unfocused where they stared at the floor between us.
“Sorry about that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck with a smile. “They can be a lot.”
“They’re lovely,” she whispered.
And then her eyes welled with tears.
I’d never seen her like that, never watched as her face warped and all the walls she held so firmly around her crumbled into dust. It tore through my chest like a gunshot, seeing her sad, seeing her in pain.
“Mave,” I said, crossing the room to where she stood. I wrapped her up in my arms, which made her go stiff before she softened and gripped onto me, burying her head in my chest. I held her tight for a long time, feeling the air around us growing heavier, colder.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, over and over, sniffing before she pulled away from me. “I’m going to go. It’s late.”
I blinked as she swiped the tears from her face and grabbed her purse. “What? You’re leaving?”
“You have practice tomorrow. You should get some rest.”
Her voice sounded detached, dead.
“I can think of a more fun way to energize,” I said, hoping the joke would make her laugh, that we could slip back into the place we’d been on the tarmac when she was teasing me and I was trying not to kiss her in public.
Instead, her face warped, and she turned away from me so I wouldn’t see as more tears broke through.
“Hey,” I said, slipping my fingertips in the crook of her elbow. She wouldn’t look at me until I tilted her chin and gave her no choice. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head, over and over, swiping furiously at the tears that kept coming. She was the strongest, most stubborn woman I knew — and she was crying.
It fucking wrecked me.
I lifted my hands to take the place of hers, thumbing away each tear, and that made her sob before shoving me away. “Stop,” she pleaded, the word croaking out like it pained her.
“Tell me how to help.”
“Stop looking at me like that, stop touching me, stop…” She buried her face in her hands.
I didn’t dare reach for her again.
After a long moment, she let her hands fall to her thighs, her eyes pitiful when they found mine. “We can’t do stuff like this, Vince,” she whispered, licking the tears from her lips. “Because when we do, I… I feel like…”
My heart stopped in my chest before firing back to life with a thunderous kick. “You feel like what, Maven?” I asked, nostrils flaring as I took a step toward her. “Like I love you?”
Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and terrified.
“Like I am compelled by you, by everything that you are, by how you have annihilated whatever version of my life existed before you?”
“Don’t,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stop now.
I closed the last of the distance between us, grabbing her hand and forcing it to my chest. “Do you feel me holding on tighter every time you’re in my arms? Do you feel time slipping away too fast when we’re together?” My jaw tightened with restraint against the emotion strangling my throat. “Do you feel my heart fucking breaking at the thought of losing you? Is that what you feel, Maven?”
Her chin wobbled, two silent tears streaking down her cheeks.
“Look at me,” I begged, and when she did, I swore the world stopped spinning, waiting for us to give it the cue that we were ready again. “Tell me what you feel.”
Her eyelids fluttered, cheeks glistening under the soft light, but her gaze didn’t waver.
“Like I want to believe you,” she admitted softly.
Hope flittered through my ribcage.
“And like I’d end up broken if I actually did.”
Her words slammed into me, knocking my breath from my chest like a hard check against the boards.
This wasn’t her talking. I knew it like I knew every play in the Osprey’s playbook. This was the remnants of the one who came before me, the one who scarred her, who made her feel like she couldn’t trust another man.
Like she couldn’t trust herself.
I opened my mouth, but closed it again, shaking my head. I didn’t say anything.
What else could I say?