I wake up with the over familiar piercing headache known as the hangover. Thankfully, the blinds on my windows are closed allowing no real light to get in. I move under the covers and feel nothing but the sheet on my skin. I gasp to myself and then cringe due to the headache. Slowly I reach over to Marshall's side and lift the comforter, he's still got his boxers on. I can't imagine I wouldn't remember us having sex but last night was probably the drunkest I've been.
I groan and grab my phone off the bedside table. Marshall shifts next to me, snoring lightly and turning over. I squint as I check my phone, the light kinda hurts.
I've got no notifications at all. Part of me feels sad, I was hoping to see something from Maverick. Anything to know that he's willing to talk. I don't want this to go on, I hate having him mad at me. I pull up my texts and start one to him.
Me: Mav, can we talk?
My heart races in anticipation for his response. Marshall rolls over again, only this time, slinging his arm across my abdomen and snuggling against my shoulder. And then in the universe's perfect timing my phone vibrates, he's responded. I feel myself shake as I open the text.
Maverick: We can. But are you sure Marshall's fine with that?
Me: It's not his decision, I want to talk to you about what happened. He doesn't get a say with this one.
He responds almost instantly this time.
Maverick: Look I'm kinda busy today, I have back to back lessons at the gym. I need somebody to watch Bo, I'm drowning in paperwork. Today's not good.
Me: I can take Bo. Mav, I really need to talk to you. As soon as you can. What time should I come get her?
Maverick: I'm on my way out now, I'll drop her off. Thanks.
I lock my phone and put it on the bedside table. Sliding out from under Marshall's arm. My head pounds as I stand up, and I put my hand on my dresser to keep from falling. It's a struggle but I manage to put on a t shirt and shorts. I rub my temple and make my way down the stairs. I walk into the kitchen, I need some orange juice. When I open the fridge there's two glasses already poured sitting on the top shelf with a note attached to them.
Made these last night for us, it's alka seltzer and orange juice. Figured we'd be hurting this morning! xx Thatch
I smile at the note and take a glass, sipping some of it. I start to feel better instantly, but this headache is still pretty bad. I don't remember much of last night, only that Marshall was mad at me. Shit he's still upstairs.
I take another sip of the juice as I hear two knocks on the door. I walk over quickly, not wanting to wake Thatcher or Marshall up. My heart hurts when I open it and see him standing there. He looks the same, except he's let his scruff get long and I hate to admit it looks good on him.
"Hi." He says, his eyes flicking between my and the floor.
"Hey." I say, leaning against the door.
He leans forward and places Bo in my arms. He also hands me a baby pink monkey which Bo reaches out for and takes.
"She loves that thing." He scratches the back of his head. "It was one dollar at the drug store and she won't put it down." He shifts his weight. "She also learned how to crawl, so be sure to watch her she's fast."
I nod and we stand there for a couple seconds in each other's silence. I can see him freaking out internally a little, this is uncomfortable for him.
"Mav-"
"I should go." He seems to be telling himself instead of me.
"Maverick come on, don't go." I say.
