Page 44 of Falling Stars (Wild at Heart #2)

MAVERICK

After my workout, I wrap my neck and shoulder with ice packs and flip on ESPN. Joel Clark and Bo Tyson are debating draft prospects.

Joel: Here are our top five picks for this year’s draft. As you may remember, Michael Sinclair, a star tight end from UT, nabbed this year’s Heisman.

A highlight reel plays as the kid catches ball after ball with the tips of his fingers as he flies through the air.

Damn, he’s talented.

Bo: I bet New York wishes they’d gotten Sinclair instead of Maverick Walker.

What an asshole. My jaw tightens.

Joel: Walker might prove us wrong and make a comeback, though New York has been pretty quiet about his recovery. We’ll find out more when the team returns for voluntary workouts next week.

Numbness settles over me as I watch the rest of the show.

As I unstrap the Velcro holding the ice pack to my shoulder, I ignore the pain extending down my arm.

Am I ready to give up this game? Is it really time to throw in the towel? Am I ready to be known as the rookie who couldn’t even hack one season?

The front door unlocks, and I hear the telltale sound of the stroller wheels on the tile.

“Hey, Bay,” I call out. “Are you hungry? I ordered us some dinner. Should be here soon.”

When she doesn’t say anything, I turn around. She looks like she just saw a ghost. Frowning, I get up. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Her eyes are red like she’s been crying. “No, I’m really not.”

“What’s wrong?”

She stares at the floor. “Did you pay for my back rent and repairs at the house?”

“Shit. I forgot to mention that. Yeah.” I make a silly face. “Surprise.”

She doesn’t laugh. “If you give me a few months, I can pay you back. I can start at the end of April, if that’s okay.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t expect you to repay me.”

“I know two hundred a month doesn’t sound like a lot, but?—”

“Baylee.”

“I need to do this, Maverick.” Her face flushes. “I’m not with you so you can pay for all of my problems. ”

“I know that.” I shake my head. “Where’s this coming from?”

I go to hug her, and she shrugs me off and walks into the kitchen. This is why I didn’t buy a truck. Because I knew she’d never drive it, and if she won’t enjoy it while I’m gone, what’s the point?

“How was practice?” she asks, doing a one-eighty, but there’s something off about her voice.

“Fine,” I say slowly. “The kids did great on the drills we ran them through this afternoon. It was fun.”

She’s watching me with the strangest expression. “That’s it?”

I shrug. “They always have funny questions for me. Like if I got an offer to model underwear, would I do it?” I chuckle remembering the eye roll that got from Coach.

I’ve been meaning to tell Bay about running into Nicole at the high school.

I don’t want her to be surprised or suspicious, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up.

This is my last week before I leave for New York, and the last thing I need is to get in an argument about someone I hooked up with years ago.

She nods slowly, looking like there’s more on her mind.

“How are the cameras working? Is that one still glitchy? I can reinstall the software if it is.”

Her eyes grow soft. “It’s great, Mav. Really. I know I sound like a broken record, but I don’t know how to thank or repay you.”

I love this girl, but she’s stubborn as fuck. “Maybe make me another bowl of puppy chow? Or if you want, brownies?”

Her lips tilt in a tiny smile. “Okay. Whatever you want.”

I don’t understand what just happened here, but I want our last few days together to be fun.

For her to remember why we’re worth fighting for when I’m fifteen hundred miles away.