She’s not wrong. Most of the guys took off their shirts in honor of Maverick and some girls too. When I pulled the smallest shirt I owned out of my closet, I had no idea I’d be one of the most dressed people at the party. I should have. Everyone loves Maverick. He’s easy to love. He’s fun and generous, and he has this way about him where he makes people feel included and important. When he’s talking to you, he gives all of him.
He’s a shameless flirt, and I’m not sure how much of what comes out of his mouth is actually serious, but he makes people feel good, and that’s worth something.
“First order of business next semester, throwing a shirtless party in our new apartment,” I say to Ginny and Reagan. The three of us are moving in together now that Ginny can move out of the dorms. We’re staying in the same complex, just moving into a three-bedroom place.
They nod eagerly as if they don’t have hot boyfriends they see shirtless on the regular. I don’t call them on it. It’s a rare moment that my friends are by my side at a party and not with their boyfriends, and I’m enjoying it.
Everyone is trying to soak up time with the people they won’t see, and my friends will see their boyfriends. Each one of them is not only coupled up, they’re deliriously in love. And I feel like I’m never going to get past the talking phase.
Reagan says I’m too picky, but I really don’t think that’s it. I just want more than “Hey girl, what’s up?” texts that are followed by a string of get-to-know-you questions that tell me nothing about the guy I’m talking to. There has to be a better way.
“Is that the same girl Maverick left with last night?” Ginny asks.
I’m already aware of exactly where he is and who he’s with, but I watch with the rest of my friends as Vanilla Fields places a hand on his forearm and leans forward.
She’s beautiful. Curvy, big blonde hair that looks like she walked off the stage of a beauty pageant, and she skipped a shirt altogether and wears a black lacy bra that barely contains her boobs.
“One of them,” I say and force myself to look away.
I feel the girls’ questioning gazes on me, and I explain how I stumbled onto him walking two girls out of his apartment this morning.
“He was looking for you last night,” Sienna says. “It could have been you in that Johnny sandwich.”
My chest flutters. “No chance. I would have gladly taken Charli to my place, though. The things that poor dog has seen.”
“Well…” Ginny stands. “My man is looking far too sexy to be left alone.”
Reagan nods in agreement. “Yeah, I need to go intervene before that girl standing next to Adam touches him one more time. Does anyone have bail money just in case?”
I snort-laugh. “No. Behave yourself. He loves you.”
“He does. Doesn’t he?” Dimples dot her cheeks on either side. “You good?”
“I’m good. Have fun.”
Reagan and Ginny make a beeline for their men, but Sienna stays sitting beside me.
“Go,” I say, aware she’s probably staying so I’m not alone. “I’m going to get another drink and then do a lap and scope out the ab situation. Did you see Liam? I did not expect all those muscles under his polo shirts.”
“Are you okay?” she asks. Her brows pinch together, and she studies me closely.
“Yeah.” I smile and shift uncomfortably. “Of course. Why?”
“You and Mav… I thought maybe the two of you…” She doesn’t finish either sentence, and I hang on her words, wondering why she might possibly think the two of us would be a good fit.
“Me and Maverick?” I ask, disbelief in my tone, but that fluttering thing happens in my chest again. “Why?”
“Just a feeling when you two are together.” She shrugs and looks from me to him. “There’s more to him than he puts out for most people to see.”
“There is?” I take in his muscles and tattoos.
Vanilla Fields is still talking to him, and he laughs at something she says. His whole body shakes with it.
Sienna angles her body and rests her knees against mine. “When I had my skating accident last year and was in the hospital for a month, Maverick sent me flowers every single day. Every day. It was always some bright, happy bouquet.”
“Sounds like he was into you.” That wouldn’t surprise me. Sienna is sweet, beautiful, and a super talented figure skater.
“No, that’s the thing. He never sent a note or said anything about it. He didn’t want me to know they were from him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I got curious and called the florist. They wouldn’t give his name, but their description was enough for me to put the pieces together.”
I try to picture Maverick walking into a flower shop and ordering a dozen bouquets. Surprisingly, I can see it. The thought makes me smile.
“People don’t give him enough credit. He loves big and wild.”
“And often,” I point out.
“Jealous?” She smirks.
“No. Definitely not. I could never be with someone like that. He doesn’t take anything seriously.”
“All right.” She places both hands on her thighs. “If you’re not going to stop Mav from having a repeat with blondie over there, then do you want to dance with me?”
“Dance? Where?” It’s packed out on the deck and in the living room.
“Rhett’s room. He pushed everything to one side for us.” She grins. “One last dance party?” She holds out her hand, and I place mine in hers.
“Absolutely.”
It’s just the two of us at first, but the music calls to more people, and by the third song, Rhett’s room is packed with girls dancing and singing along.
And where girls gather, boys are sure to follow. Smiling and feeling free and happy, I glance over and catch Maverick watching me from the doorway. His signature smirk is in place, but his eyes don’t light up with humor in the same way they usually do. My breath catches in my lungs, and I blame Sienna for the seconds that I hold his stare, wondering just for a moment if there could have been something more than friendship between us.
He strides toward me, and I pause my dancing. “Having fun?”
It’s rhetorical. Johnny always has fun. It’s his only mode. I’m sticky and breathless from dancing, and my throat is thick, making it hard to breathe. All the talk of lasts and people leaving has made me emotional. The alcohol probably isn’t helping.
Johnny moves to the beat in front of me. We’ve danced before, but I’ve never felt this awkward about it. I’m so aware of every breath and the strum of my pulse, growing faster with every second.
His chin dips, and he circles my waist with a strong arm, taking over and swaying us to the music. My body tingles everywhere his warm skin touches mine, which, thanks to the lack of shirts, is a lot of surface area.
I stare anywhere but at him—down at our feet, at Sienna, who flashes me a smile as Rhett pulls her from the dance floor, probably to a secluded corner somewhere to make out. I look anywhere but up at Johnny’s face until I can’t take it any longer.
The tips of my ears burn with that feeling of being watched, and I lift my head and lock my gaze on his. I wonder if he feels it too—this sadness that we won’t have chances like this again. Sure, we might see each other again someday, but it’ll never be like this. It’s a now or never moment, and you can’t be in that moment and not wonder what if. Right?