Merit (Treasure State Wildcats Book 4)
Merit: Chapter 6

My cap was pinned to my hair, and my black graduation gown hit above my knees, hiding the skirt of the floral dress I’d worn today. The lawn outside the fieldhouse where the ceremony had taken place was packed with graduates and families, including mine.

Mom dabbed at the corner of her eye. She’d spent most of today wiping away tears and taking pictures.

Dad’s proud smile beamed brighter than the afternoon sun.

It was mostly because of this achievement. Dad was ecstatic that his one and only child had a degree and would now be stepping into her role within his business. He’d been smiling all morning.

I was trying not to let it bother me that his smile had grown impossibly wide when Maverick—thorn in my side and pretend boyfriend—had opened his big, fat mouth an hour ago.

The jerk had told everyone we were going on another date.

Not that I wanted to ever come to Maverick’s defense, but he’d gotten cornered during the ceremony. Every person in our group had pestered us to share details of our date at Luna.

I’d waved it off and left to join the other graduates in my class for the ceremony. While I’d been in a sea of students, Maverick had been stuck in the stands with our parents.

They’d worn him down.

So he’d told them we were going on another date. Next Saturday.

Everyone seemed a little too excited about the prospect of me and Maverick sharing another meal. Well, everyone except Mabel.

She’d been giving me skeptical glances ever since I’d joined them once the ceremony had finished.

“One more picture,” Mom said for the seventy-ninth time. She wasn’t going to stop until she had at least two hundred on her phone. “Mabel and Stevie. I don’t have one of you together.”

We came to stand beside each other, our arms locked and smiles wide as Mom lined up her camera.

“So what’s really going on with you and my brother?” Mabel asked, still smiling through the photo.

“Nothing.” It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the truth. The word tasted sour. “We’re just . . . hanging out. We both realized your mom was right. We can’t fight forever. So we’re making amends.”

Mabel looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “One dinner at Luna and now you’re buddy-buddy? No way.”

“He’s not so bad.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

Yes. Yes, I was.

Maverick and I were never going to pull this off. Not in a million years.

“Maverick, your turn.” Mom came to my rescue, waving him over from where he’d been tossing a mini Wildcats football with Bodhi. “Stand beside Stevie.”

“Oh, let me get my phone too.” Meredith opened the flap on her purse, taking out her own phone. She stood beside Mom, and while Mom’s smile was showing, Meredith’s was covered in the white mask she’d worn today.

Her immune system was weak and her body vulnerable. We’d all tried to convince her to stay home, to avoid the crowd today, but she’d refused, not wanting to miss my big day.

Dad shuffled beside Mom, taking out his own phone. Then Monty came to Meredith’s side, doing the same.

All four parents, lined up and ready to capture me and my fake . . .

Boyfriend?

Absolutely not. I was not calling Maverick my boyfriend.

He was just . . . Maverick.

The object of my frustration jogged over, raking his fingers through his soft brown hair to brush it off his forehead.

He was wearing a pair of jeans that draped to a pair of white Nikes. His Treasure State quarter zip was pushed up his forearms and molded to his broad shoulders. The corners of his jaw looked sharper than normal today, probably because he’d actually shaved. He was missing the stubble he usually had on the weekends.

Well, if I was going to fake date someone, Maverick Houston was the hottest guy I could have picked.

His arm was warm as he threw it around my shoulders, tugging me into his side so hard I nearly lost my balance.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine.” I righted my feet and did my best to ignore the heat from his body that seeped through this flimsy gown. The scent of his clean, woodsy cologne filled my nose, and wow, he smelled good. Really good.

“Relax,” Mav whispered, his hand sliding to my bicep, giving it a squeeze as our parents tapped their screens in rapid succession.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I plastered on a smile that I hoped was convincing.

“Yay!” Mom tucked her phone away and clapped her hands together. “Should we head to the house?”

“Finally.” Bodhi raced over, mini football in hand, and clutched his stomach. “I’m starving.”

“Me too.” Monty took Meredith’s arm, keeping her close as we started for the parking lot.

She’d been a trooper today, enduring the ceremony that had dragged on and on. But her energy was waning. Her eyes seemed heavy, and though I couldn’t see her mouth, I’d caught more than a few yawns.

“Mom’s getting tired,” Maverick said as we walked behind the group along the sidewalk.

“I would have understood if she wanted to stay home.” Something I’d told her at least five times.

“She wasn’t going to miss this,” he said.

Meredith had come to my graduation.

Because there was a very real chance she’d be gone for Maverick’s. He still had another year of eligibility for football, so even though we’d started our freshman year at the same time, he was just now going into his senior year. If she didn’t make it to next spring, I doubted he’d even attend his own ceremony.

“I think everyone’s a little surprised we’re going out again next weekend,” he said. “And a little too excited about it.”

“I noticed.”

Everyone—besides Mabel—seemed beyond thrilled at the prospect of me and Maverick spending time together. Maybe they simply wanted us to be friends again. Maybe the joyful exuberance today was solely due to my graduation.

But the wistful smiles, the over-the-top enthusiasm, the questions about where we were going to eat and what I was going to wear, said there was more here than just hope for simple reconciliation.

“You told them it was just a dinner, right?” I asked.

“I said it was a date.”

“Do they think it’s a romantic date?”

He shrugged. “What other kind of date is there?”

I frowned.

“This is what you agreed to. We’re dating.”

“Dating-ish. It’s dating adjacent.”

“It’s dating,” he said. “If you need to clarify the technicalities in your own head, fine. But we made a deal.”

“I know,” I murmured.

Saturdays. We were stuck with each other on Saturdays.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If he showed up dressed like this, wearing that cologne, I could almost fool myself into thinking it might be fun.

If we could keep from bickering.

I slowed a few steps, Maverick doing the same so there was more space in between us and our parents. “I think we need some rules.”

“Rules for what? We’re going out on Saturdays. We’ll date⁠—”

“Exclusively.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, we already agreed to that. I remember. What other rules do you need? Stop overthinking this.”

Overthinking was my specialty. He’d always been the spontaneous person between the two of us.

“I can’t,” I admitted. “Doesn’t it feel like we’re not prepared for this? They’re going to ask questions.” I flung out a hand to our families.

“And we’ll answer them with the truth.”

I stopped walking, crossing my arms over my chest. “Like how you called another woman to arrange a hookup before the waiter at Luna ever delivered our meals.”

“Like how you showed up thirty minutes late and brought a book.” He faced me, hands on his hips.

We glared at each other for a moment, and it was like all of the uncertainty vanished. It was as welcome as a cool breeze on a hot day.

This, I could deal with. This was familiar.

Our first argument of the day. The knot in my stomach loosened.

We’d been thrown together, on and off, since we’d arrived this morning before the ceremony, and so far, we’d gotten along. Granted, he’d mostly hung in the periphery while I did what was needed for graduation, but on a normal day, he would have teased me for the gown. Maybe flicked the tassel on my cap.

Was that why we argued so much? Because it was our normal? Because it was easier?

Not something I was going to overthink at the moment.

“Are you guys coming?” Dad asked, glancing back.

“Right behind you, Declan.” Maverick’s grin was menacing as he inched closer, his hand lifting to my face.

“What are you doing?”

Before I could swat him away, he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingertips skimming the shell.

My breath hitched, lodged in my throat as he leaned closer.

Oh God. Was he going to kiss me?

This was why we needed rules. Did he expect me to kiss him through this? Fake dating did not require kissing and public displays of affection. Or did it?

Were we telling people we were friends? Or more than friends? Why hadn’t I asked more questions before agreeing to this?

“Don’t look so horrified,” Maverick said, his voice low. “It’s not like I’m going to kiss you.”

He made a face. A face that said the last thing in the world he would do was kiss me.

It stung. More than it should have. I took a step away, moving to follow our parents, my gaze locked on the concrete sidewalk.

Maverick fell into step at my side, his hand coming to my elbow. “Rules. All right. You can’t recoil when I touch you.”

“I didn’t recoil.”

“Sure.” He scoffed. “Work on that for me, yeah?”

“Fine.” I flicked my wrist. “No recoiling.”

“Stop fucking scowling at me.”

I looked up to him and scowled. “No promises.”

His nostrils flared as his hand latched around my elbow, drawing me to a stop. “Look, the only way we don’t bury ourselves in lies is if this isn’t a lie. I’m going to act like your boyfriend, because for all intents and purposes, you’re my girlfriend. That was our deal.”

He was right. The best way through this was to have as many truths as possible. Our parents simply talked too much. They were too close, and they, without doubt, were watching.

We’d be under a microscope.

Maverick was my boyfriend. Temporarily. Rather than think of this as a fake relationship, maybe the right way to treat this was with an expiration date.

And a reward. Adair Landscape. I was doing this for my future. So I could someday take over Dad’s business as the owner and manager.

“Okay.” My voice sounded defeated.

“Good.” The back of Maverick’s hand brushed my knuckles, and I did everything in my power not to shy away.

“Relax, Nadine. I’m not going to hold your hand.”

Nadine.

My middle name. My grandmother’s name.

“You haven’t called me Nadine in a long time,” I said.

He shrugged. “Guess I forgot.”

No, he hadn’t forgotten.

Nadine was the name he’d called me when we’d been friends. Maybe this was him trying to get us back to that point.

He’d come up with the nickname when we were eight or nine. I couldn’t remember exactly when. A teacher had seen my name on the class roll and expected a boy. I’d been sad about it at recess, so he’d called me Stevie Nadine for weeks. Eventually, he had shortened it to Nadine.

Maverick was the only person in the world who knew that I didn’t love my name. It was one of those insecurities, those secrets, I’d buried deep.

My parents had had two stillborn boys before I was born. They’d planned to use the name Stephen to honor Dad’s dad, my grandfather. A man who’d been Dad’s hero. My grandpa had died from a heart attack while Dad was in college.

So when I was born, they’d named me Stevie.

Dad called me Steve, and it made me feel like less, every single time.

“We can do this,” Maverick said.

“You really think that?” I asked.

“No.”

But we’d both try anyway. For the woman ahead wearing a silk scarf over her head. The woman leaning against her husband, drawing from his strength those last few steps to the parking lot.

Yes, a part of me was doing it for Adair Landscape and Nursery. But part of me was doing this for Meredith too.

“Stevie?” Mav took my wrist, pulling me to slow down and face him again. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” The truth was, even if he hadn’t offered to walk away from Dad’s job offer, I would have done this for his mom.

His blue eyes roamed over my face, lifting to my tassel. “Congratulations.”

It was sincere. Sweet. Too much niceness from Maverick. I started to feel icky again.

He flicked the tassel, sending the strings into my nose. “I didn’t get you a graduation present.”

There he was.

I batted his hand away before he could flick the tassel a second time. “God, you’re a child.”

“Can’t help it.” He chuckled. “You’re my favorite person to annoy.”

I elbowed him in the ribs.

It only made him laugh louder.

“Stevie!” A shout from behind made us both turn. A guy dressed in a cap and gown jogged to catch up. His polished loafers clicked on the concrete, his tan slacks swishing with every step.

“Oh no.” I grimaced, covering it up with a smile and finger wave. “Hey, James.”

“Hey.” He stopped in front of us, breathing heavily. How far had he been running? “Just wanted to say congrats.”

“Thanks. You too.”

He eyed Maverick for a moment, then dismissed him with a slight tilt upward of his nose.

What a snob. Seriously, what had I been thinking, going out with this guy.

We’d gone out on exactly two dates. He’d kissed me after the first. Invited me to his place after the second. When we’d been on his couch, making out, he’d pushed my head toward his lap.

I’d righted the bra he’d pulled over a breast and left less than a minute later.

That was three weeks ago. And James had yet to take the hint that I was no longer interested. No matter how many calls I sent to voicemail or texts I ignored, every time I bumped into him on campus, he asked if I wanted to go out again.

Hard pass.

“Are you celebrating tonight?” he asked. “I’m having a few people over later. You should come by for a drink. I make a killer spicy margarita.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I had plans, but before I could speak, Maverick draped his arm around my shoulders.

“She hates limes. But nice try, man.”

James studied us together, taking in Maverick’s arm. How he’d tucked me into his side and, oddly enough, how I fit.

“We’ve got plans with family,” I told James, tugging on Maverick’s shirt as I took a backward step. “Have fun at your party. And congrats.”

“Is that my competition?” Mav asked when we were out of earshot.

“No.” I glanced over my shoulder. Thankfully, James was retreating toward the fieldhouse. “But we went out a couple times.”

“If that’s the type of guy you’re dating, no wonder you’re so uptight.”

I smacked him in the arm. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculously good-looking until you open your mouth and ruin your face?”

Maverick laughed. “Yes. You.”

“Well, it’s still true.”

He flashed me a megawatt smile. “Ridiculously good-looking?”

“Better write it down. I won’t repeat it again in your lifetime.” I wish I hadn’t said it in the first place. Damn it.

“Better looking than James?” he teased.

“Hmm.” I tapped my finger to my chin, turning to take another look at James as I pretended to think it over.

James was attractive. Fit. His style was a bit pretentious but something I’d been willing to overlook. Yet if I was being honest with myself, I’d known ten minutes into the first date he wasn’t for me. My own desperation was the reason I’d even agreed to date number two.

Because I was getting desperate.

What if Maverick⁠—

Absolutely not. I shut that thought down before my brain could even see it to completion.

No. I was desperate but not that desperate.

The last person on earth I’d ask to take my virginity was Maverick Houston.