Page 8 of You Saw the Best In Me

A light tap at my door jolts me out of my trance, and I place my laptop on the table before answering the door.

“Hello, sir. We received an inquiry that you were interested in solar lighting. Do you have a moment to talk about what our company can offer you?” a small kid recites his lines, and I stare at him in disbelief.

“This is an apartment building. Where the fuck am I going to install solar lights?” I ask, and he looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sorry, sir, I must have the wrong address. Have a good day,” he mumbles, almost sprinting away from my door.

Karina emerges from her apartment, carrying a backpack with a cat inside, and I should’ve known.

“What’d you do, sign my address up for solicitors?” I ask, irritated that she thought of such a great prank.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Maverick. I’m taking April out shopping,” she says, pointing a finger at the fluffy white cat in her bag.

I shake my head and stare at her, a million questions running through my mind, but I only land on one important enough to ask.

“Do you lock your car at night?” I run my hands through my hair, impatiently waiting for her answer.

“If I remember, why?” She looks annoyed, like I’m bothering her, and I decide to keep pushing those buttons.

I'm confident she sent that idiot here about solar lights, so she’ll pay the price by listening to a well-crafted lecture on the dangers of leaving your car unlocked.

“There’s been a lot of break-ins around here lately, and that girly little thing you call a car will be first on any burglar's list,” I say, still standing in my apartment.

“Good to know, thanks, Mr. Officer,” she says, rolling her eyes and attempting to walk away.

“Don’t ask me for a ride when yours gets stolen, kitten,” I use the nickname that accidentally slipped out last night, hoping to see the same flare in her nostrils.

I thought this attraction might’ve been one-sided, but she likes it, and I know when the heat flushes her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, broody,” she smiles and turns on her heel to walk away.

Whenever I interact with this woman, I slip further into the abyss. I want to get under her skin, I want to irritate her soul so severely it’s like an itch she can’t scratch, but at the same time, I want to rip the clothes off her body and fuck her on my kitchen counter.

It’s an endless battle, and I may have to hang up my gear if I can’t keep my head on straight.

Just as I think of a way to get her back for the marbles incident, my phone rings, and it’s a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello, is this Maverick Carter?” the voice on the other line asks, and I can already tell what kind of call this will be.

“Yes, this is. How can I help you?” I say, grabbing my keys because I’m sure it’s the hospital.

“Your grandmother, Martha Carter, has been admitted for dehydration and low blood pressure. As her next of kin, we request that you come down immediately,” the nurse says, and I’m already running down the stairs to my truck.

I rush into the ER, looking for a familiar face, and finally, I see the doctor who helped us with her fall.

“Hey, Doc, is Martha Carter alright?” I ask, out of breath and desperate for an answer.

“Maverick, right? She’s right over here,” he leads me to her spot behind the curtain, and Harper sits in a chair beside her bed.

“Harp, are you okay?” I hug her tightly, even though I saw her less than two hours ago.

“I’m fine, Mav. Grams’ monitors were going crazy, so I called 911. I’m sorry I didn’t call you first,” she says, and I reassure her that I'm not upset with her.

Grams is a grown woman who knows she should drink water and eat right, but sometimes she refuses, just like the pain medication.

That is another reason I wish I could teleport Harper out of there. Medical manipulation is serious, and I’m afraid Grams did this because we went out for ice cream today without her.

“Go grab something from the vending machine upstairs. That’s the one with your favorite snacks,” I say to Harper, handing her a ten-dollar bill.