CHAPTER 19
harley
Maverick was effortless—a breath of fresh air that I desperately needed. Admittedly, the ease with which we talked shocked me. Considering how we’d left things and how I hadn’t been able to contact him in the past five years, I was positive he wouldn’t want anything to do with me.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe I’d blindsided him with my accidental appearance at his work.
He had to be nice to people. The gnawing anxiety of whether his kindness was real or not clawed at my chest. Alcohol became the best way to keep the beast at bay, but I could only handle so much before I was drunk.
Maverick must’ve seen it because my shot glass was traded for a tall water that I barely touched.
Talking turned to stewing and brooding while he just remained close.
At the end of his shift, he clocked out and joined me on my side of the bar.
“All right, come on,” Maverick said when he helped me off the stool. I swayed as I stood in front of him. His hands landed on my shoulders, warm and comforting in a way they shouldn’t have been. “You good?”
My lips pressed together tightly, brows furrowing, as I considered his question. Was I good? Not by a long shot. The only decent person in my family was dead, I hated the idea of being more actively involved in the family company, and the ceiling was crooked.
“The ceiling’s not crooked, Harley. You’re just very drunk,” Maverick told me. Had I said all that out loud? He chuckled, and the sound spilled down my spine in a warm sensation that settled in my core. “Yeah, yeah, you did. Turns out, you can’t hold your liquor.”
“Did you know they call me Lee?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” he retorted.
“It’s awful,” I muttered.
“Yeah, it is. Now, if I let go of you, are you going to fall over?”
“Can’t promise that.”
“At least you’re honest,” he said and let go. His hands hovered over my shoulders as his gaze watched me intently. I got lost in the gray-blue color, the world swimming in their storm. “Harley, are you about to throw up?”
“Nope.” I hoped not.
“Good.” He gave me a wide berth as he ushered me through the crowd and out of the bar. Instead of taking me around back to the parking lot, he steered me toward a car sitting out front.
“I don’t need a cab,” I retorted, even as Maverick opened the door.
“You’re drunk, you tipped me just as much as your bill was—thank you by the way—and you’re in no condition to drive,” he said. “Get in the goddamn cab, Harley, and don’t risk another funeral this week.”
That last comment stung, but he was right. Sighing, I didn’t bother fighting him. Hell, I was still positive the ceiling was crooked.
He opened the cab door, and I dropped into the seat. My head tipped back against the seat as I shut my eyes. Everything spun ever so slightly.
“Hey.” A hand touched my knee, shaking me a bit. I opened my eyes to find Maverick crouching next to the open door, watching me closely. He was so close that I could touch him. I didn’t, but I could. Softly, he asked, “Can you pay the driver when you get there? Or do you need me to handle it now?”
“No.” I waved him off. “I can do it. Or Clifford can do it.”
“Do you need me to call Clifford?”
“Do you know how to call Clifford?”
“I’d need your help with that.”
“I’m fine,” I told him. That sounded like too much trouble. I grabbed the door to shut it, but he didn’t budge.
“You be safe, got it?” he said. For a fraction of a moment, it sounded like he cared—genuinely cared—but I shoved that thought aside. Maverick didn’t care about me. Not really. Not like he used to. That was just the pathetic part of me, desperate to feel something like I used to.
“I’m fine,” I repeated.
“Okay. Good night, Harley,” Maverick replied. This time, he relented when I reached for the door and stepped back to give me the space I needed to shut it. The car lurched forward as the driver pulled away from the bar—not well, might I add. He was a crappy driver because he drove too fast.
Or maybe I was just that drunk.
Who knew?
I closed my eyes and let the driver take me home, back to a world where my father was dead, and I had nothing to do with the boy I should’ve run away with.