Maverick awoke the next morning, feeling utterly refreshed, as if he had slept like a newborn.
Melody's couch was super comfortable, a stark contrast to the rock-hard bed he usually endured.
The furry blanket draped over him exuded a heavenly scent, soft and smooth against his skin, and he cherished it completely, along with the plush pillow cradling his neck.
As he opened his eyes, he took in the charming details of the living room, a subtle smirk curling his lips.
He had finally made his way into her home, now positioned as her bodyguard, errand boy, or whatever title he could claim. Maverick was determined to seize this opportunity to get to know her.
Rising to his feet, he let out a contented sigh, stretching his limbs as he soaked in the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window.
Glancing back at the couch, blanket and pillow, he meticulously folded the blanket before placing the pillow on top of it.
He was aware of the privilege it was to stay in her home and resolved not to become a nuisance by leaving a mess in her personal space.
Without any belongings of his own, he headed towards the door, finding the card that unlocked the door. He gently opened the door to the apartment, locking it softly behind him.
It was still early in the morning; Melody was surely deep in slumber, and he had no intention of disturbing her peace.
As he stepped out, he encountered a woman passing by, just entering her apartment.
Upon seeing him, she paused, her curiosity evident in the way her eyes widened.
Maverick flashed her a bright smile. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully.
"Good morning," she replied, a hint of reluctance coloring her tone. "Did Melody move out? Are you the new tenant?" Her questions tumbled out in a rush.
Shaking his head, he answered smoothly, "She very much still owns her space and hasn't moved out."
Her gaze sharpened, a flicker of realization evident. Knowing that he wasn't her brother—Melody had no siblings—she searched his face intently.
"I'm her boyfriend," he stated boldly, watching as the woman's eyes widened in surprise before breaking into a welcoming smile.
"Oh, that's good! Welcome," she said with genuine warmth, and he nodded politely, excusing himself as he made his way towards the elevator.
As the doors closed and he descended, a sigh escaped his lips. Boyfriend… Thoughts raced through his mind, and he smacked a hand against his forehead, wondering what had possessed him to say such a thing.
Melody would undoubtedly murder him with her glare for his impulsive words if she ever found out.
But what choice did he have? Revealing that he was merely her errand boy or a bodyguard would inevitably raise eyebrows. Did male friends regularly spend the night at their female friends' homes? He wasn't sure. They weren't even friends in the traditional sense; she could never consider him a friend.
Stepping out of the elevator into the bustling energy of the morning, he walked to a nearby convenience store, gathering his necessities—an electric blue toothbrush, fragrant soap, and a few other essentials—before heading back to the apartment.
Maverick moved through the apartment, searching for the bathroom to complete his morning routine.
Fortunately, he discovered the bathroom nestled beside Melody's room. Stepping inside, he admired the space, adorned with neatly organized toiletries on a charming trolley and a large mirror reflecting the gentle morning light.
Quickly, he brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face, running his fingers through his tousled hair. As he gazed at his reflection, he took a moment to braid his hair into four neat sections before exiting the bathroom.
Next, he ventured into the kitchen, eager to prepare her breakfast. The fridge was a treasure of food, each item more tantalizing than the last, the scents wafting through the air making his stomach rumble.
Maverick resisted the temptation to nibble on them; Melody hadn't permitted him yet. So, he focused on preparing her breakfast: crisp toast and a steaming cup of tea.
He inhaled deeply, nervousness washing over him as he realized he was standing before her bedroom door. His heart, began to thump softly against his chest. Why was he feeling this rush of emotion?
Why did she evoke such helpless feelings in him?
Pushing aside his swirling thoughts, he knocked gently on her door. He received no response even after the third attempt, prompting him to turn the doorknob.
A voice in his mind cautioned him. "What if she's undressed?" he wondered, his Adam's apple bobbing in response.
Shaking off the unsettling thought, he reassured himself, "She couldn't possibly be." Melody seemed to be the type who would surely dress properly before retiring for the night.
With a wave of reluctance, he stepped into her room.
There she lay on the bed. He foolishly allowed his eyes to crawl over her body briefly. He sighed in relief noticing she was clothed—a soft wave of gratitude washed over him, and he cursed his overactive imagination.
Maverick closed the door behind him with a soft click, taking a moment to absorb the tranquil setting of the room.
It was a simple, with a neatly made bed nestled against the right wall, draped in a bedsheet of soft pink and cream that exuded comfort and warmth. To the left, a quaint wooden table stood, its polished surface adorned with a mirror that reflected the delicate charm of the space. Books were stacked neatly, and her laptop sat open.
A small wooden shelf showcased an array of skin care products, meticulously organized, while a large cupboard stood nearby, its doors slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of a colorful wardrobe filled with clothes and an assortment of shoes.
Vines climbed gracefully along the soft pink walls, adding a touch of nature to the room as if to complement the cozy, feminine atmosphere.
Despite seeming tough, she was actually soft and sweet, he thought inwardly.
Maverick turned his gaze toward the bed, moving quietly toward her.
He set the breakfast tray down gently on the table beside her bed. Leaning over, he softly tapped her shoulder, his voice a gentle call to awaken her.
"Miss Melody," he said, but she offered no response.
He tried again, and with a frown, she swatted his hand away, seeking the comfort of her blanket as she snuggled on the bed.
Maverick couldn't help but chuckle softly at her persistence. He leaned closer again, this time dropping the formality. "Melody," he called to her, his tone gentle and playful.
The sound of her name seemed to stir something within her. She blinked awake, her long eyelashes fluttering like delicate wings, and he felt a spark of enchantment as he watched her stretch, her small frame emerging from the covers.
Maverick straightened, observing her with a mix of admiration and curiosity.
At first, her brow furrowed in confusion as she tilted her head, her expression turning from slumber to surprise.
"Ethan?" she mumbled, the name escaping her lips, though the man before her was not the person she had imagined.
As her gaze narrowed, Maverick felt a flicker of amusement wash over him, intrigued yet puzzled about this mysterious Ethan.
Momentarily, realization hit Melody, she sat bolt upright in bed, her face covered in shock. In a flash, she seized her pillow and hurled it at him with force.
"What are you doing here? Get out!" she demanded, her voice sharp as she pointed toward the door.