Page 35 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

brIDGET

“Where were you?” Lindy asked, coming out of the kitchen.

I hadn’t even shut the door behind me before she asked.

She moved to the front window, saw Mav drive off.

“Is that… is that your boss?” she asked, eyes wide.

I felt like I was floating on a cloud of happiness and Lindy was ruining it.

Oh my God. Last night. And this morning. My pussy ached and I was beyond happy and sated and… yeah.

“Maverick James. Yes.”

Her judging gaze raked over me. “Oh my God. You spent the night with him.”

I was sure I looked like I was thoroughly ravaged, my hair a mess and I was sure he’d left another hickey on me somewhere she could see.

“He’s your boss!”

“Don’t make me feel bad about this, Lind,” I said, shutting the door. I’d let go of my insecurities, my fear of being with a guy. I’d let go. Let my mind go blank and just… be. Mav knew what I needed and magically–and skillfully–gave it to me.

“You can’t be serious. Do you know how old he is?” She asked, waving her arms. With her wet hair and robe, she must’ve just gotten out of the shower.

“Yes.”

“You’re twenty-two years old.”

She was scolding me like I was sixteen and snuck out to go to a party.

I tipped up my chin. “I know how old I am.”

“He’s… God, he’s my age!”

I stilled and realized something. “How did you know he was my boss?” I asked.

She swallowed, but still glared at me. “He came to the house last night looking for you.”

When he came to pick me up to take me to dinner. Of course she’d met him.

“Why did you have to pick the only eligible bachelor in town?” she yelled.

I processed her words and couldn’t believe her reaction. “Oh my God. You’re mad at me because I stole a thirty-something man from you?”

“Have you seen him?” She fanned herself.

“Of course I’ve seen him, I slept with him,” I shouted back.

“Older men only want women your age for one thing,” she countered. Her words stung and they were meant to. They made me feel silly and stupid.

“You don’t have to remind me of that. My professor–” I bit my tongue, the truth falling out by mistake. “Mav’s different.”

She set her hands on her hips, cocked her head. “What about your professor?”

I turned away, set my purse on the table beside the door. I didn’t want to get into this with her now. Or ever. Especially since she was mad. Irrationally so, but mad nonetheless.

“Bridge, what about your professor?” she pushed.

I wasn’t going to get out of answering. Shit.

I closed my eyes, sighed. “He… he wanted my work, so he took it.”

“What do you mean, took it?” she asked, her voice missing that angry edge.

“Took it,” I repeated. “Claimed it as his.”

She sighed, as if she were a balloon being deflated. “That’s why you left?”

I cut past her, went into the kitchen hoping there was a pot of coffee. I couldn’t look her in the eye when I told her this. “I didn’t leave. I got kicked out because they said I plagiarized.”

“Plagiarized what?” she asked, following.

I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured myself a cup. Took a big sip and burned my tongue.

“My professor’s journal article.”

“Oh my God! Are you fucking kidding me?” Now she was really mad.

“I know. I’m not perfect.” I set my coffee down.

“That’s what you think I’m upset about?” she shouted. “Jesus, Bridge. I’m your sister.”

I shook my head and stared down at the counter.

“No. You’re my mother and I can’t ever live up to your expectations. I didn’t mean to get expelled from MIT. Do you think I wanted to miss graduating and… and…” I didn’t finish because there were so many ands.

I heard her drop into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Based on what you said, you slept with him, didn’t you?” Her words were back to gentle.

I nodded.

“Oh, Bridge. He used you.”

I spun around, pushed my glasses up. Now it was my turn to be angry, especially since she pointed out the most obvious thing ever. “I know! I know what he did! He stole from me. Took my work. Took my confidence. Ruined my chances at a career in Math. He stole everything!”

I started to cry, because, well, it sucked.

She came over and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, stroking my back. “God, I’m so sorry you think you can’t share something like this with me. You let me think you dropped out and I didn’t understand why you’d throw it all away. I must have hurt you with what I said, that you gave up and fuck, what else did I say to you?”

“That I was throwing my life away. That I’m so smart but am wasting it.”

She pushed me back, set her hands on my shoulders. “I’m mad at you, Bridget Beckett. You made me be the bad guy here. You could have told me.”

I shook my head. “I fell for the wrong guy and paid the price. I can’t be perfect like you.”

She laughed. “I am so far from perfect.”

“Says the woman who lines her nail polish colors up by hue.”

“Says the human calculator,” she countered.

I had to laugh. It was that or cry.

“So. Maverick James.”

It was my turn to sigh.

“I like him, Lindy. He’s… God, he’s amazing.”

“I don’t want to hear about his magical dick.”

“I’m talking about him. He’s nice. Sweet, if you can believe that. Ridiculously protective. He likes that I’m a nerd. And he has a magical dick.”

She poked me in the side and stormed off. “I hate you!” she called, going upstairs.

“I hate you, too,” I countered, smiling.

Happy.