Chapter 37: Chapter 37

I’m about to hit the bell for a third time when the door swings open and I find a tall girl with strawberry-blonde hair standing on the other side. Even though I stopped by a couple days ago, we never introduced ourselves.

When she continues to stare in awkward silence, I lift a hand in greeting. “Um, hey. I’m Mav⁠—”

“I know who you are.” Her voice turns impatient. “What do you want?”

I peek past her into the townhouse. “Is Willow around?”

She shifts, blocking my view. “She’s busy at the moment, but I’ll be sure to let her know you stopped by.”

When she takes a step in retreat and tries to slam the door in my face, I flatten my palm against the thick wood. “Busy with what?”

Her narrowed eyes slice to my hand. “You’re going to want to move that appendage unless you’d like it broken.”

My brows shoot up at the hostility that pours off her in heavy waves. “For someone who doesn’t know me, you sure seem to have a problem with me.”

Her nose scrunches. “You play hockey for the Western Wildcats, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all I need to know.”

When she attempts to slam the door in my face for a second time, I lose my patience and bark, “I’m sure you won’t believe this, but I’m actually not trying to piss you off. I just want to talk to Willow and straighten things out between us. I…” My voice trails off as I swallow past the thick lump in my throat.

It would be so much easier to tell this angry girl to go fuck herself, but the most important thing is clearing the air with Willow. I’m not leaving until that happens. So, if that means I need to drop to my knees and beg Willow’s guard dog, who’d much rather take a chunk out of my ass than to let me speak with her—even for five damn minutes—then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

My shoulders wilt as my eyes plead with hers. “Look, I really care about Willow. We had a misunderstanding, and I want to make sure we’re good. If you’re afraid I’m going to come in here and upset her, I won’t. Promise.”

I hold my breath and wait for the verdict.

It takes a handful of seconds for her expression to soften.

Marginally.

For all I know, it’s a trick of the light.

She searches my face for a long, silent moment that leaves me fidgeting beneath her steady stare. I get the feeling this girl sees way more than I’m comfortable with.

Just when I think everything I’ve confessed has fallen on deaf ears and she’ll slam the door in my face one final time, she surprises me by poking a finger at my chest.

“If you say anything to upset her, I’ll personally make sure that you never play hockey again. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

The scary part is that I believe her. This girl is no joke. She’d happily fuck me up.

After another hard look, she grudgingly steps aside, allowing me into the tiny entryway.

As soon as I walk by, she slams the door closed before pushing past me. My gaze flies over the compact living room, taking in all the homey touches as we cross through it to a hallway on the other side. Just as we reach a closed door, she spins around to face me.

“Willow isn’t feeling well.”

I frown, thrown off by the warning. “What do you mean?”

Only now do I pick up on the anxiety wafting off her as she jerks her shoulders. “She caught a cold or the flu. I’m not sure which. She’s been sleeping for most of the day.” There’s a pause. “I threatened to call her mother if she gets any worse.”

A chill slithers down my spine. It’s the same feeling I get when Mom isn’t feeling well. My chest will constrict, making it impossible to suck in a lungful of air.

I don’t realize that I’ve hesitated outside the door until her roommate clears her throat. “Don’t stay long.”

I glance at her again, only to find concern etched across her expression.

“I won’t.”

With that, she spins away, retreating into the living room.

I stare at the closed door. I fucking hate the ball of nerves that has settled in the pit of my belly along with the memories mushrooming up inside me.

The fear.

The lack of control.

The anger.

I have to mentally prod myself into rapping my knuckles against the door. I wait a beat. Then another. When a response isn’t forthcoming, I push open the thick wood and peek inside the dimly lit space.

Every muscle constricts when I find Willow curled up on the bed under the covers with her eyelids closed.

She doesn’t bother to open them. “Who was it, Holl? Not the holy rollers again?”

I step inside the room before closing the door and clearing my throat. “Nope, it wasn’t them.”

Her eyelids flutter open and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. “Maverick?” She glances at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the library?”

I cock my head. “Hard to do when my tutor bailed on me.”

“She did?” Her brow furrows. “That doesn’t sound like Stacie.”

“I meant you.”

There’s a beat of silence before her gaze shifts and understanding dawns. “It seemed like it might be better for both of us if you worked with someone else.”

I take another step closer. It feels like there’s an invisible thread binding us together. “What if that’s not what I want?”

“Maverick…”

“What?” The mattress dips as I tentatively settle on the edge. Unable to stop myself, I reach out and run my hand over her cheek.

Her skin is surprisingly hot to the touch.

There’s a beat of silence before her solemn gaze flickers back to mine. “I have to know… Did you only sleep with me to get back at River? Is that all it ever was? A game?”