Chapter 13

Thirteen

AVA

Lord Jesus, help me, but that kiss made me sweat more than a whore in church on Sunday. I have no idea how it escalated. But once he had me pinned to the door, I didn't care what happened. I was letting go, I was having fun...until I realized it was him . And I don't like him .

Pushing him away took every ounce of strength I had, but I had to do it. I cannot fall for another playboy, immature guy. But when he turned it into a competition and wanted a one-on-one date to prove me wrong? Well, I had to go with it.

So here we are, on this first day of December in Charming, South Carolina. I usually sleep in until seven in the morning. I have a quick cup of coffee then hit the streets for running at eight. Knowing Maverick lives thirty minutes away, I told him I run at seven and wanted to see if he'd actually show.

He did.

And now I'm running for my life.

We met at the high school here in town, and when he jumped down from that ridiculous dually truck of his, I lost my breath. He was wearing running shoes and three-quarter-length spandex with shorts over them, showing off his toned legs. He paired it with a T-shirt and long sleeve shirt underneath. His look was completed with a backward hat that made me second guess this running date. And I'm pissed as hell because he lied. He's wearing everything you need for a seasonal change if you're outside in South Carolina. Which means he's a runner and knows what he's doing.

I tightened my ponytail and tried the brush off when he came close. We stretched for a moment, and what started out as a slow jog to warm up quickly became edging past each other at each quarter mile, until we were flat-out sprinting to the bench under the tree by the lake.

He hit the tree a fraction of a second before I did.

"Hey! Don't you know you're supposed to let your date win?" I say between breaths as I steady my heart rate.

" Pfft . Have you met me? I'm not going easy on anyone."

Rolling my eyes and still trying to catch my breath, either from the run or just the fact I'm so close to him, I sit on the bench and stretch my legs out in front of me. "Sometimes being too competitive is not a good thing, Maverick."

"And too passive isn't good either. I'm happy to see this little spark in you."

I switch legs. "I'm actually very competitive and enjoy pushing myself to see what else I can do."

He takes a seat beside me on the bench. "So, we're on a date, right? This is you teaching me? Tell me your relationship status, honestly. It's kind of unfair you know about me and I don't know anything about you."

I drop my eyes and fidget a bit. I hate talking about myself. And I especially hate having to tell people I'm divorced. What kind of romance author is divorced, especially one that's supposedly teaching men how to be a perfect book boyfriend, even though she couldn't hold onto her own?

"You're not following your own rules, Ava." He throws his hand across the back of the bench, tugging my ponytail as he does so. "Eye contact. Questions. Seems I'm the one passing the test with flying colors today and you're supposed to be the teacher."

"Mm. I guess you are."

"So, tell me. It's not a big deal if you've never had a boyfriend." He smirks and I shake my head.

I stall for a moment then sit up, look him directly in the eye, and say, "I'm thirty-two, divorced, a marketing analyst by day, and a romance author by night."

A slow grin takes over his beautiful face. "Now I understand why you didn't want to tell me."

"Yeah, well, who wants to take love advice from a divorced wom?—"

"No! I don't care about that. I'm only twenty-nine. You're a cougar!"

He dissolves into giggles, and I follow. "You're an idiot. And no way you're twenty-nine. Everyone says that once they've passed twenty-nine."

"No, only women say that. Men don't mind getting older and getting that salt and pepper look. Isn't an older man a thing? Age gap, I believe?" He waggles his brows at me, and I bump him with my shoulder.

"Don't tell me you're a closet reader."

"No, that's Jay. But he can't help but share tips with Wes and I every chance he gets."

I snicker at him, and we both get quiet. I play with the words in my head about how to explain, and Maverick lets me. He doesn't push, he just waits patiently.

"He was my high school sweetheart, and he never grew up."

"Peter Pan syndrome?"

I shrug, picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on my pants. "Something like that. He was the ‘fun one'." I use quotes around the words and narrow my eyes at Maverick. He pulls on my ponytail again. "But that was all he wanted to be. It was fine in high school, even in college. Hell, even in our early twenties. We had a fun time at our wedding, but when real life kicked in, jobs were needed to pay bills, and he still wanted to be the fun guy, and I had to be the bad guy. It was like he was an eternal frat boy. He couldn't make any decisions on his own. Zach is a great guy, but he just doesn't have a clue about life."

"And your type-A personality wasn't having it?"

I shake my head. "There's a time to be an adult, and we were there. The guy didn't know how to sign a check or that you had to preheat the oven before cooking in it. I couldn't be his mom and his wife, you know?"

"Sounds like you were neither. It sounds like you were a babysitter."

I slap my thighs and lean back against the bench. "Aren't you glad you stuck to this class now? You're taking advice from a real love expert."

"Listen. I think you coming to the realization that a marriage with him wasn't what you wanted or needed to fulfill you, and thus ending the relationship, is being the expert."

Hearing him acknowledge that makes me feel good. I felt like a failure for a long time and it's nice to be seen.

"So are you still looking for a book boyfriend?"

I laugh. "Nah, now I just make them."

His lips pull down but he quickly stoics his face. "So what I'm hearing is that you're afraid to have fun because you think you're going to find another frat guy?"

"I'm looking at a frat boy, Mav."

"Let me assure you, we're not all the same. Looks can be deceiving."

His serious tone leaves me second guessing everything I've thought about him. Unable to take this seriously anymore, I make a show of checking my watch. "Looks like your date is almost over. Race you back!"

We take off running, and this time he lets me win.