Wanderers in the City

Chapter 3

I wasn't sure how far my apartment was from the bar, so I had yet to learn how long our walk would take. After several minutes of walking in silence, Maverick finally broke the quiet. "So, where are we headed?" he asked curiously. "Or is this just a midnight stroll?"

"It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes or so," I replied quietly, trying not to make direct eye contact with him. His height was intimidating, especially since we were so close. The arm I clung to was toned and muscular beneath his sleeve, and the warmth radiating off him made me feel oddly comfortable.

"You sure don't say much, do ya?" he remarked, a playful smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. There was this amused curiosity in his eyes, like he found my quiet nature to be an extraordinary mystery just waiting to be unraveled. I felt a flicker of defensiveness rise, eager to reclaim my conversational chops. However, the truth stuck around, especially with someone like Maverick, who seemed delightfully untroubled by all the social nuances. "But you know, that's okay. It's kinda cute," he added, his teasing tone light and easy.

For most of my life, I'd seen myself through a lens coated in self-doubt. The label 'plain' had become something I wore with resignation, embraced after years of solitude and a tight-knit circle that was mainly just my family. Still, there was something totally captivating about how Maverick flirted with me throughout our chat, pushing me to reconsider every negative belief I had about myself. Could I have been wrong all this time?

"What do you do for a living?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.

"I'm an intern," I replied a bit too quickly, trying to dance around the mundane details of my day-to-day life. Thinking about my work sparked a slight tension in my head—nothing overwhelming, just an annoying twinge nudging me to rub my temples. "Honestly, it's pretty dull."

"Hmmm, an intern? What kinda internship?" he pressed, clearly undaunted by my less-than-exciting response.

"Oh, it's in software engineering," I mumbled, my voice dropping to almost a whisper. I fixed my gaze ahead, wishing desperately for a change of topic. But Maverick didn't seem like the kinda guy to give up easily.

"I had a feeling you might be a bit of a nerd," he teased, a warm chuckle escaping his lips, making my cheeks flush. "So you're a techie, huh? That's actually kinda exciting."

"I guess," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm without meaning to. Yet, his cheerful vibe stayed unfazed; he just chuckled softly, glancing at me with his striking eyes.

"Is the work really that bad?" he asked, tilting his head as if trying to read my feelings.

"Not really," I admitted, though I knew it wasn't particularly thrilling either. "Most days are just… slow. I spend a lot of time waiting for people to give me tasks. The actual work isn't terrible; it's just the atmosphere afterward that gets to me."

"After work?" he inquired, interest lighting up his face.

"Yeah," I paused to collect my thoughts. "There tend to be parties or events at least once a week. People celebrating and drinking..." I let my voice trail off, suddenly hesitant to say more. Just the thought made me uneasy. "Actually, skip that. Never mind," I added quickly, hoping to shift gears.

But Maverick was determined. He gently nudged my side, urging me to keep going. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well...It's just that I don't really enjoy going home feeling wasted," I admitted with a sigh. "I always end up feeling awful afterward."

"Like now? Or is it usually worse?" he asked, arching an eyebrow playfully.

"Much worse. But I can't really handle—" I began, but I stopped mid-sentence as I took stock of our surroundings, realizing we had wandered quite a distance. Familiar sights greeted me, along with a sign hanging overhead with a logo I recognized all too well—my building. To my surprise, we had arrived much sooner than I expected. "We're here."

"Huh. We are," Maverick confirmed, his tone shifting as he inspected the exterior of the building. "This place is pretty fancy."

"The company I'm interning for covers the rent. Otherwise, I can't imagine being able to afford something like this," I confessed, a wave of embarrassment washing over me as the words left my lips. Yet, Maverick leaned in, seemingly genuinely interested. "Thanks again for walking me back," I said, offering a small wave as I turned toward the entrance.

"Wait a second," he called, halting me in my tracks. Turning around slowly, I found him coming closer with focus, his phone raised in front of him. "Give me your number," he said confidently.

"Excuse me?" I replied, shock and disbelief mingling in my voice.

"Your number. I want it," he stated plainly. His earnestness took me by surprise, sending a flutter of excitement through my stomach. Despite my nerves, I managed to share my number, the words spilling out a little faster than I intended. Once I whispered the digits, I handed his phone back with a shy smile, my heart racing a bit as I fumbled toward the entrance.

Exchanging numbers usually left me feeling a whirlwind of anxiety and existential thoughts, but this time felt totally different. The fact that it was with a guy—especially one who had seemed so uninterested just moments ago—made the experience feel surreal. As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I sank onto the stairs leading up to my apartment, feeling both lightheaded and exhilarated.

"I really hope this isn't a joke," I murmured to myself.

Out of the blue, my phone buzzed again. It wasn't just a text but a call from some random number. I figured Maverick was calling to let me know this whole mess was just some elaborate joke. With my hands shaking a little, I took a deep breath and answered on speaker. "Hello?"

"Oh, so you didn't just give me a fake number?" came a voice. Yep, it was Maverick. "I thought you were messing with me. I'm glad to see you're not."

"If anything, I thought you were the one messing with me," I muttered, frustration creeping in. My temples were pounding again. "Look, I don't have the energy for whatever games you play. I'm not in the mood for this."

"Ouch, you wound me," he shot back, his voice dripping with mock drama. I could almost picture him dramatically clutching his heart. "But hey, I actually walked you back because I wanted to. Not everything has some secret motive behind it, you know."

I couldn't help but smile a little. "I probably shouldn't be getting mixed up with guys like you. I might just lose my sanity," I said, shaking my head and trying to brush off his comment. "And honestly, that feels like it's happening right now." I stood up suddenly, steadying myself against the wall, hoping the dizziness would pass.

"Have you made it upstairs yet?"

I paused, weighing whether to be honest. But honestly, why not? "Nope," I whispered, "not yet." Just then, I heard the door creak open, and to my surprise, Maverick stepped in, scanning the place before his eyes landed right on me. "Hey."

"You can't be serious." I chuckled softly, realizing how absurd this all felt. It was like a scene from a cheesy rom-com where two people hit it off by sheer chance. But trust me, none of this was scripted. Everything happening tonight felt so spontaneous, so real. "Guess Lucia was spot on when she said you'd try to get into my pants."

"I'm not planning on doing anything," he said bluntly, catching me off guard. I expected some flirty retort or a denial, but he just shrugged, looking all nonchalant. "At least not yet, anyway." That playful tone kicked back in, and despite myself, I laughed softly.

"Right," I replied, a smirk creeping onto my face, "because we're totally friends now, right?" Sure, my words sounded snappy, but I was mostly just amused. What else could you call this bizarre situation? A guy I hardly knew asking for my number after barely chatting? It was downright ridiculous. Yet, strangely, I found myself enjoying his presence.

"Of course we are," Maverick said, grinning wide, flashing that charming smile.

"I just met you. I'd say we're more like acquaintances."

"Friends are just strangers you haven't gotten to know yet," he countered without missing a beat, completely unfazed. "I bet we'll end up being great friends."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I said playfully, even as I felt a small smile tugging at my lips. "But hey, I need to head upstairs." I pointed to the stairs leading up to my apartment. "My head is spinning, and if I don't lay down soon, I might just hurl all over the floor."

"Alright, no need to get violent," he laughed, trailing right behind me as I made my way up the staircase.

"I don't remember inviting you up," I shot back, glancing over my shoulder, half-smirking.

"I'm just making sure you get to your door, then I'll bounce," he said casually.

As we walked, our footsteps echoed through the empty stairwell, giving the whole vibe an eerie feel. When we finally reached my floor, I hesitated, turning to face Maverick head-on. "This is it. So…”

"So…" he trailed off, clearly waiting for me to finish his thought. I rolled my eyes at his childish antics. There was no shortage of charm with this guy. "This is the part where you kiss me goodbye," he teased, eyebrows wiggling.

I simply shook my head, feigning disapproval. "No, thank you." With that, I turned back and fumbled with my keys to unlock the door. "I had a good time tonight, though," I confessed. "Even if I totally overdid it on the drinks. Here's hoping I wake up in one piece tomorrow."

"Text me when you do," he said, his tone suddenly serious. "I wanna know you're still alive. Otherwise, I might freak out."

"Fine, fine," I sighed, a hint of amusement in my voice. "Good night, stranger. Go home and do whatever it is playboys do."

Before closing the door behind me, I watched intently as he started walking back downstairs, disappearing from view soon after. As soon as I stepped inside, I immediately collapsed onto my bed, exhausted beyond belief.

I closed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts before falling asleep, but found myself unable to stop thinking about everything that transpired tonight. Everything from meeting Maverick to spending a couple hours talking with everyone else seemed so surreal now that I looked back upon it. Not every day has someone come across such a group of interesting individuals like those five. They were all unique in their own ways, yet they somehow fit together perfectly.

After several minutes of lying motionlessly atop my covers, I finally opened my messages and sent Maverick a quick text. It was out of character for me to message anyone so late at night, but it was also unusual for me to meet a guy who seemed genuinely interested in being friends with me. Why not break my own rules occasionally?