Chapter 5
FIVE
MAV
Alfred flashes me a thumbs-up as I walk in front of the Escalade toward the brownstone. I laugh, amused by his excitement over my date with Mckenna. Drew, my bodyguard, already scoped out the restaurant and gave his approval. He also seemed delighted by this unexpected turn of events.
I haven’t shared my date with Jameson or the guys in the band yet. It’s too soon to hope. Nothing has happened. And so, save for Alfred and Drew who are part of the logistics of my life, and my mom, who is over the moon but can keep a secret, no one else knows.
I ascend the stairs to the front door and knock. It feels strange, standing on my own doorstep and waiting to be let in. And yet, it also feels right, knowing that Mckenna is on the other side of the door.
She pulls it wide open and my breath stutters in my throat. Because, my God, is she a vision.
I can’t believe I once called this woman wife. Even if it wasn’t real the way I hoped, it still filled me with pride.
Mckenna’s long auburn hair is loose, curling over her shoulders, the ends dusting across her breasts. Her navy eyes are big and deep, bottomless. She’s effortlessly chic. Always.
I grin at her wide-legged navy trousers. “So professional. You’re a lawyer now.”
She snorts, holding the door wider. “Still gotta pass the bar.”
“You’ll crush it.”
“California is the hardest.”
“More reason to stay in Massachusetts.”
Mckenna laughs lightly and moves toward the coffee table to pick up a lavender clutch. “I’m ready when you are.”
We head out of the brownstone and Alfred drives us to a trendy wine bar where we had our first date, back when our relationship was fake. When Mckenna only dated me to settle her law school tuition. When my reputation was ruined by a scandal with a senator’s wife.
That night cracked the ice between us. It released some of the tension and put Mckenna and me on equal footing, on a path toward friendship at the very least. I never imagined I could have more than that with her and now, I want every damn thing she’s willing to give me.
“Drew already checked it out and we’re in the clear,” I say as Alfred pulls up to the front entrance.
A soft smile crosses Mckenna’s face. “I remember the night you met me here.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “You were hitting that wine bottle pretty hard.”
She swats my hand. “I was nervous.”
I dip my chin, meeting her gaze for a moment. “Me too.” I slide out of the SUV and hold the door for her.
Once we’re seated at a table in the back corner, I gesture toward the menu and point to the bottle of wine that Mckenna ordered that night.
“You really want to reminisce, don’t you?” she asks playfully.
“Honestly? I want to get back to what we had.”
Mckenna sobers and she straightens in her seat. “Cutting right to the chase.”
“What’s the point in wasting time? I know I fucked up, Mckenna. I miss you like crazy and I’m still in love with you. I want to be us again.”
“Maverick, it’s not that—”
“Simple? Yeah, I know.”
“I was going to say easy.”
I quirk an eyebrow.
She pauses as the server approaches our table.
I order a bunch of appetizers and feel a flush of guilt when Mckenna opts for a Coke over wine.
I know she’s doing that on my account, but the truth is, right now, it’s best for me to steer clear of alcohol.
I ask for an iced tea and lean back in my seat.
Mckenna watches me closely. Our server returns in record time with our beverages and Mckenna bites her bottom lip as she lifts the glass in my direction. “To hard conversations.”
“And good outcomes,” I reply, tapping my glass against hers.
When Mckenna places her glass down, she sighs, her shoulders falling. “I don’t want us to hurt each other again.”
“Then we communicate. Put everything on the table.”
She drags her fingertips along the edge of the high-top. “I’m still working through things, Mav. It’s getting better, with therapy, but some nights…”
I bite my tongue, giving her the chance to collect her thoughts and choose her words.
“I still wake up thinking Bran is here. That he’s after me. Following me.”
Fuck. My hands curl into fists as I try to temper the surge of fury that rolls through my bloodstream at that fucker’s name. “I want to work through that with you,” I rasp out.
She gives me a heartbreaking smile. “I’m scared to trust you, Mav.
And have us not work out again. I’m not saying this to hurt you but the bender you went on…
walking into the brownstone the next day and seeing you like that.
All those women and the drugs and alcohol and…
” She bites her bottom lip. “Trust is hard for me.”
I nod solemnly. “Then let me earn it, beauty. Just tell me you’ll give me a chance to earn your trust back. That’s all I want—a shot.”
She’s quiet for a beat and my heart hammers in my temples. But then she smiles and it’s like seeing pure sunshine. “Okay, yes.”
“Yeah?” I grin so hard my cheeks ache.
“Yes, Mav. I want us to have another shot at things too. For real this time.”
“For real,” I repeat.
“But—”
I frown.
Mckenna snorts. “Don’t give me that face. After everything that’s happened between us, I need to set some ground rules.”
“You and your rules,” I laugh. “All right, let me hear them.”
“Okay.” Mckenna takes another sip of Coke before forging ahead. “We stay focused on our own professional paths. I need to study for the bar exam and you need to sort things out with the Clovers and what’s coming next for the band.”
“We’re recording a new album,” I explain. “But, yes, I see your point. We can’t get so lost in each other that we blow off real life.”
“Exactly. And that’s cool about the album. Are any of the songs you wrote going to be on it?”
She remembers. Of course she does. “I hope so,” I admit. “I still have to talk to the guys and show Reign some new lyrics I wrote but…fuck, I hope so.”
“Me too, Mav. You deserve it.”
I shrug, feeling my cheeks heat under her praise. “What other rules?”
“We keep up with therapy and consider doing some sessions together if there are things we need to work through.”
“Done,” I agree.
“You’re being very accommodating.”
“I’ve grown a lot since we last had hard conversations.”
“Apparently,” Mckenna murmurs. “And this is important—”
“Okay.”
“We can’t blur the lines.”
I frown, my eyebrows bending together. “What’s that mean?”
“It means…no intimacy. No sex,” she whispers the last word, her eyes darting around as if she’s scared we’re going to get caught talking about getting busy with each other.
Oh, my sweet Mckenna. She truly is a good girl.
“No sex,” I repeat, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Shh!”
I chuckle. “Beauty, I’ll make you a deal.”
She lifts her eyebrows, waiting.
“I won’t even kiss you until you ask me to,” I vow, even though I could throat punch myself for the blue balls I’m knowingly giving myself.
Mckenna pauses, her hand stilling on her Coke. “You promise?”
“Against my own self-preservation, yes.”
She chuckles.
“I want you to feel safe with me, Mckenna. I want you to want whatever comes next between us. And I want you to be sure if we ever cross that line again. Because, beauty, I can’t lose you a second time. I won’t. So, if at any moment, this isn’t working for you, tell me straight up. Deal?”
She nods, her expression earnest. “Deal. Same for you, Mav.”
“Swear it,” I promise.
“All right then.” She lifts her Coke again. “To trying.”
I grin. “Third time’s a charm.”
She snickers as our server appears with our appetizers and Mckenna and I relax, falling into easy conversation. Now that I know there’s a chance—a fucking glimmer of hope after days of darkness—a weight lifts off my chest.
It feels like I can breathe again after being underwater for too damn long.
Even though I returned to Boston for Jameson, I’m staying for an entirely different reason. Mckenna Byrne. Maybe she’ll always be my why. My guiding light. My redemption arc.
All I know is now that I’m back, I’m here to stay. I will prove to my beauty that we belong together. That our marriage mattered. That she is it for me and I will fight for her. For us.
When I get home that night, Jameson is waiting for me at his kitchen table.
“House seems bare without Amelia’s shit,” I comment as I plop down across from him.
He looks around the kitchen, as if noting for the first time that the artwork, the tea kettle that once sat on the stove, and the curtains over the little window by the sink are gone. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I sigh. I hate seeing my brother like this. He put on a good show at Mckenna’s graduation, and he does all right when he’s with the guys from the band, but in the privacy of his home, in the quiet hours between dusk and dawn, he’s drowning.
And it’s a feeling I know well.
“We gotta get you out of this slump, man.”
He snorts and takes a sip of his tumbler of scotch. “How do you suggest we go about doing that, Maverick?”
“Well, it is an area I excel at.”
He meets my gaze, waiting.
“Pulling myself out of the holes I’ve dug,” I offer.
Jameson cracks a grin. “Yeah, I guess you do have a knack for that. How was your date?”
I dip my chin in a nod. “How’d you know? I know Mom didn’t spill the beans.”
“You put on cologne.”
I laugh. “Yeah well, I guess that was a dead giveaway.”
Jameson arches an eyebrow. “You told Mom?”
“We’ve been talking a lot more since things with Mckenna went south.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding. He rolls his glass between his hands. “I Facetimed with her today, too.”
I grin. “Mom gives good advice.”
“And she doesn’t judge,” he murmurs, his tone darker. Then, he meets my gaze and lifts his eyebrows. “Your date?”
“I won’t lose her again, Jameson.”
He’s quiet for a long beat. “Good for you, Maverick.”
“Now you have to decide, for once and for all, are you going to fight for Amelia and fix things, or has this thing between y’all finally run its course?”
His eyes are glassy as they hold mine. “Amelia and I are done. For good. It’s over.”
“All right,” I say softly, knowing that even though I’ll never understand my brother’s connection to Amelia, it meant something real to him. Treading carefully, I blow out a breath. “Then, you’ve gotta pick yourself up and start a new chapter.” I smirk, reaching out to take away his tumbler.
“Hey.”
“We run at six a.m., Jameson,” I say, standing to toss the amber liquid down the drain.
I hold my breath as I run the water from the tap, erasing the scent of the alcohol.
“Get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow you’re turning over a new leaf.
And it’s not gonna be easy. In fact, some days, it’s going to feel like hell.
But I promise you, it gets easier. I’ve been there, man.
And I’ll do it with you, every damn step. You’ll be a better man for it.”
Jameson stares at me, his gaze hard and unyielding. “Don’t I get some time to process shit? To lick my wounds, so to speak?”
“I gave you a few weeks. You don’t want to bury yourself too deep, brother. It becomes harder to pull yourself out. Trust me on that one.” I point at him as I move toward the stairs. “Six a.m.”
Then, I relocate upstairs, take a cold shower, throw up a prayer that I’m capable of everything coming my way, and pass the hell out.