Part 23 (2/2)
”I need to get back,” I say. ”Maverick won't know where I am.”
”Ali, your clothes.”
I peer down. Darker gray blends with lighter grays.
”I'm wet.” Why am I wet?
Finley's brows pinch together. She dabs at my jeans.
Dab. Dab. Dab.
”I have some extra clothes in the car. I'll see if there's a shower or something you can use.”
I look down at myself, and suddenly I realize I don't know what the hospital did with Maverick's clothes. He'll want clothes when he wakes up.
”What about Maverick?”
”We'll go check on him,” she says, but that isn't what I'm talking about.
”Maverick's clothes.”
Finley's eyes wander behind me before they settle back on me. ”I'll find him something later, okay?” She pries the cup out of my grip. ”I'll get you some more.”
I stare out the window until she returns. She puts the new coffee in front of me and scoots her chair closer.
”You didn't eat the apple I brought you earlier,” she says. ”They have eggs and bacon over there. Want some?”
”Ali,” she whispers when I don't answer. She leans forward to look at me and frowns.
She recognizes what's happening.
”Don't go there, Ali. Stay with me. Maverick needs you.” She grabs one of my hands. ”Do you hear me? Maverick is going to be okay.”
I nod. I'm getting good at this simple motion telling lies for me. But she's my best friend, so finally I meet her gaze.
”I can't, Finley,” I breathe.
She touches my cheek, wiping away a tear. ”Can't what?”
Can't breathe. Can't think. Can't process. Can't listen. Can't concentrate.
”Can't everything.”
Just- Can't.
I focus on the breaths exiting my lips. The gooseb.u.mps on my arms poke up so hard they hurt, and I try to concentrate on that too.
”I'm trying, but I'm so f.u.c.king scared, Finn. I can't lose him.”
”Listen to me, Ali.” She squeezes my hand tighter. ”Maverick isn't going anywhere, okay? The doctor is going to fix this, and you and Maverick are going to have a dozen babies and live to be one-hundred and fifty and die in your front porch rocking chairs. Do you understand?”
”A dozen?”
”One of them named Finley. One is Alieyah with an 'h,' and of course there's Maverick Jr.”
”That's only three.”
”I'll let you and Maverick pick out the other names.”
I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. ”Okay.”
”Okay?”
”Yeah, we'll come up with nine great names.”
Finley smiles. ”They'll be amazing, and they'll all grow up to be lawyers.”
”Oh, no. I'm not ready for that.”
My bestie laughs. ”How about some breakfast, then we'll go back upstairs and wait for the doctor?”
I stare down at my coffee again. Think about the warmth against my palms.
”Maverick needs you, Ali.”
I look at her. Then, slowly, I nod.
Chapter 36.
Chicago, Illinois Eight months ago Two hours late. No phone call.
I'm fuming. We've had this discussion too many times to count. What if something happened to him? How would I know?
His initial big case has grown, and I understand the need for him to put in more hours on it. But now he's working on several large cases, putting in twelve-hour days, six days a week. I've barely seen him all month.
Still, seriously. It takes thirty seconds to send me a text. Even less to answer one of the several I've sent.
Morocco walks up my stomach and lies down on my chest. He lowers his chin, big, green eyes focused on me. I scratch him behind the ears, and he purrs.
”You think he'll bring home pizza this time?”
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