Page 11 of Speechless
Codie
I was questioning my sanity as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I was supposed to meet Mav downstairs in five minutes and I didn’t know if I could go through with it. It had been years since we’d broken bread together and the idea of making small talk with the guy who’d tossed me aside made me break out in hives.
But I kept telling myself I wasn’t a scared little girl anymore. I was a badass bitch now. I’d made a name for myself in a male dominated business. I’d even made my first million. I could hold my own with anyone. And maybe there was even a small part of me that wanted Mav to regret his decision to bail on us. Petty? Yes. But I didn’t care. Sometimes a girl deserved a little taste of revenge after being ghosted by the guy who was supposed to protect her heart, not shatter it.
“Can I get you anything before I go?” I whispered to Amanda, who was sprawled out on her bed with the covers pulled over her head.
Poor girl suffered from migraines, and this one had been a doozie, forcing us to leave the show three songs into Trey’s set, which broke my friend’s heart.
“No, I’m okay,” she groaned. “I can’t believe you’re actually having dinner with Maverick Stone. I’m so jealous.”
“I don’t know if we’ll be having dinner.” I checked my watch. It was after nine and I’d eaten four hours ago. “Probably more like apps. I shouldn’t be gone long. You want me to bring anything back for you?”
“Just a whiff of his cologne,” she sniffled. “Maybe when he gives you a hug.”
I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my phone and stuck it in my purse. “I don’t expect to be hugging him. But if it makes you feel better, I can find out what kind he wears and buy you a bottle. That way you can sniff it all you want.”
She giggled before grabbing her head and groaning.
“Sorry tonight didn’t work out the way you hoped it would, hon. That sucks.”
“At least we got to see Mav perform. And he was a-mazing.”
Yeah, he was. And the song he’d dedicated to me? Panty. Drenching. Not that I’d ever admit that to him. “Okay, well if you don’t need anything, I’ll be on my way.”
As soon as I closed the door behind me, I got a text from Mav, letting me know he was waiting for me downstairs and had snagged a booth at the hotel’s only restaurant.
I looked at my reflection as I stepped onto the empty elevator. I’d opted for black jeans, a black tank top, high heeled boots and a cropped denim jacket tonight. It was cute, but casual, I thought. I didn’t want him to think I’d tried too hard to impress him, because I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than give him that impression.
He stood as soon as he spotted me, and that drew the attention of every female patron in the restaurant. Even the wait staff seemed to notice him. I didn’t know if they recognized him because of his newfound celebrity status or if they were checking him out because he was just that hot. Either way, it was unnerving. I’d known Mav, the boy. And he was a bit of a hot mess. But Mav, the up-and-coming country music superstar with hit songs on the radio? I didn’t know how the hell to deal with him.
“Hey, beautiful.”
He smiled before leaning in to kiss my cheek before I could slide into the booth. For the sake of my friend, I inhaled deeply. Nope, that scent couldn’t be bottled and sold. It was all Mav, and it was hot as hell.
“Hey, yourself.” I set my purse down beside me before reaching for the menu. “Nice show.”
“Thanks.” He frowned before reaching for the other menu. “I worked up an appetite. How ‘bout you, hungry?”
“I could eat.” Since I couldn’t drink to calm my nerves anymore, I might as well down a greasy cheeseburger and fries. “Though we did eat around five.” I perused the menu quickly and made up my mind before setting it down.
I watched him do the same before finally turning his undivided attention to me.
I noticed subtle things I hadn’t the other night. His scruff was peppered with silver, just like his hair. His dark lashes were as long as I remembered. And he had a faint scar above his left eyebrow that I didn’t think he’d had when we dated.
“Like what you see?” he asked, with a sexy half-smile.
I shrugged. “Not bad. How’ve you been feeling? I know the first few days of sobriety can be a bitch.”
“All in all, not as bad as I thought it would be. Headaches, night sweats, some insomnia, restlessness…” He held his hand up. “And I get a little shaky sometimes, but Trey assures me it goes with the territory.”
“It does.”
We placed our orders with the waitress, who returned with two waters, and removed the wine menu when we assured her we wouldn’t be drinking.
“Is your friend feeling better?” He’d been wearing a black denim jacket and stood to remove it before hanging it on a hook attached to the booth.
“Migraines,” I said, wincing. “She gets them a lot, unfortunately. She was so bummed when we had to leave. She only got to see Trey perform a few songs.”
