Chapter 13 Mav
THIRTEEN
MAV
“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?” Mckenna asks as she slices her fork through a piece of cheesecake, breaking off a delectable bite.
I consider her question. Our conversation flowed effortlessly all evening and the relief that snakes through my limbs is telling of how badly I want this with her. “Boston,” I admit after a long pause.
Her eyes widen, the fork hovering between the plate and her mouth. “Seriously? After everywhere you’ve been, you would pick…here?” Her brows furrow as she gazes around the restaurant, as if studying the patrons.
“I would.” I nod for emphasis. “I may have traveled to a hundred different places, but I haven’t really spent time in them.
When we’re on tour, it’s a different city every night.
I like California and being near the beach but it’s too easy to get swept up in a lifestyle I don’t want.
” I give her a knowing look. I could find a party anywhere, but in Southern California, it’s too easy.
“I absolutely love Costa Rica,” I continue, “but if I lived there, full time, I’d worry some of the charm and ease of life I enjoy when I’m there would change. ”
“That makes sense.”
“Yeah.” I pause to grin at her. “Eat your cake.”
She laughs but takes the bite of cheesecake.
“So, I’d stay here,” I tack on. “I love where I’m from. I love this city. It gave me everything I have now. I guess if I had to pick a different place, I’d choose Brooklyn, but I’m a Boston boy through and through. What about you?”
“I think here too,” she admits quietly. “Or New York. LA is an easy choice for me because of college but now, I think I’d prefer the East Coast.” She shrugs.
“My dad’s here. I didn’t think that would ever be important to me, but now that our relationship has improved, and I’ve gotten to know Jeannie… I like living close to them.”
“That’s fair. Have you heard from your mom?” I ask after a beat.
Mckenna rolls her eyes. “She’s at some wellness retreat in the middle of Arizona.”
“Oh.”
Mckenna snorts. “Oh.” She takes another bite of cheesecake. “I think our relationship will always be somewhat adjacent to each other. And I’m okay with that.”
I quirk an eyebrow, questioning. “Are you?”
She nods slowly. “After everything that happened with Bran, after how clueless my mom has continued to be about my life…” She shrugs.
“I don’t want to carry around anger and hurt when I can let it go and accept that what we have is all there’s going to be.
I’d rather focus my energy and efforts on the people and the relationships that show up for me.
You, my dad, Allegra, Ivy, Nova. I’m a lucky girl, Mav. ”
“Yeah, but it’s still tough to admit. Maybe your mom will change.”
“Maybe,” she says slowly. “But I’m done hoping for it or thinking about it.”
I nod in understanding.
She drags the tines of her fork through the cheesecake again. “Did you ever tell your brother the truth about your, his, dad?” Her eyes flicker to mine and hold. Curiosity burns in their depths along with something akin to hope. Trust. Empathy, care, and love.
I take a sip of my mint tea and drop my head. “Not yet and, Mckenna, I had the perfect opening.”
“What do you mean?”
“We talked recently and he told me, confided in me, about Amelia. About shit that went sideways in their relationship. And it’s complicated and heavy and, well, it would have segued into my confessing shit about Big Jim.”
Mckenna’s eyebrows dip. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“It almost seemed like too much.” I snort.
“Can you believe that? The opening was right there and I felt like if I said anything, I’d somehow ruin or lessen the weight of what my brother had just confessed.
He never let on about the root of the issues between him and Amelia.
All these years…” I trail off, shaking my head.
“I didn’t want to disrupt or interject more on his moment. ”
“I understand that,” Mckenna says softly, reaching across the table to cover my hand with hers. “There will be another opening.”
“I know. I’m going to tell him.”
“I know you will,” she agrees, taking another bite of cheesecake. Her eyes study me closely.
“What?”
She shakes her head.
“Tell me,” I press, leaning closer.
“Do you…do you want kids, Mav?”
I pause, my eyes widening at the question.
“Forget it, that was—”
“No.” I cut her off.
She stops speaking, surprise flaring across her face. “You don’t?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, no, let’s not forget it.
” I sigh, trying to align my thoughts with the words coming out of my mouth.
“Kids always seemed like this faraway, shadowy part of my life. Not something in the here and now. But, yes, Mckenna, I want kids. I want to be a dad. I definitely want to be a pop.”
She laughs.
“One day,” I continue. “When life is more settled and less…chaotic.”
“Yeah.”
“What about you?”
“One day.” She scrapes another bite of cheesecake onto her fork.
“It’s torturous watching you eat this.” I nudge the cake plate closer to her. “I would have devoured it in two seconds flat.”
“Have some.” She pushes the plate back toward me.
“Nah.” I shake my head, drinking my mint tea. “My cream puffs and chocolate lava cake were fantastic, thanks.”
She snickers and holds out her fork, the last bite hovering on the end of the tines, for me. “Try it, Mav.”
I lift my eyebrows and she leans closer, the fork just below my lips.
Sighing, I eat the last bite of cheesecake and groan. “The desserts here are—”
“The best,” Mckenna finishes my sentence, her voice breathy.
Her eyes are on mine, flaring with heat, and I feel her reaction stir my blood to life.
“Take me home, Mav,” she murmurs. “Let’s finish celebrating there.”
Jesus, fuck, my beauty is going to kill me. Half standing from my chair, I flag Sabrina down for our bill.
Everything is different now. The air of the brownstone when we step through the door. The moonlight streaming through the kitchen window. The creak on the stairs as we scale them, giggling, our hands touching, our glances longing.
“Need you,” Mckenna whispers as I press her against her closed bedroom door.
“Up,” I command, tugging on the hem of her shirt.
She lifts her arms and I peel the fabric upwards until it clears her frame. Her eyes hold mine, bolder than I’ve ever seen them. She knows what she wants and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve witnessed.
My hands drop to her hips and she bucks into me, twisting the hem of my shirt and drawing it over my head. I help her out, tugging the collar and discarding the shirt.
She sucks in a breath, her eyes tracking my shoulders, my bare chest, and the ink that unspools over my skin like every bad decision and best victory. All spelled out for her to dissect and yet, her eyes shine with more than acceptance.
They swell with love, and it kicks behind my breast plate, my heart somehow in rhythm with hers. Beating in tandem with everything that she is, that we are.
Her hands slip over my shoulders, her touch centering. She licks the center of her bottom lip and I nearly groan from the visual.
“I love you,” she tells me seriously.
I shake my head. “I don’t know why.” The words slip out, an admission I didn’t mean to make in this moment and yet, the truth of them is unmistakable.
She frowns, her teeth raking over that bottom lip. “I do. You’re resilient, Maverick. And hopeful. Deep down, I know you never stopped believing in me.”
“Never.”
“I pushed you away and yet, you came back. To me.”
“I’ll always come home to you,” I admit, my voice gravelly.
Mckenna’s frame relaxes, her fingers clasping behind my neck. “Promise?”
I nod solemnly, holding her gaze so she can see everything I feel in this moment. And fuck, it’s a lot. “I swear it.”
A soft smile trails over her mouth and then, she presses up on her toes and crashes into me. We come together instantly—like two magnets drawn together no matter the force trying to keep them apart.
This year, Mckenna and I have been through hell and yet, when I sink into her, losing myself in her touch, finding myself in her eyes, it’s a homecoming. And it’s so much sweeter and steadier than I could have hoped for.
I’ll always come home to you.