CHAPTER 37
maverick
After breakfast at The Boathouse, I was flying high.
Harley had held my hand. In public. Where everyone could see us.
This thing that had been a secret for us out of necessity was out in the open, and it seemed like Harley wanted that.
He hadn’t said so much in words, but he was the one who took my hand as we left the restaurant.
I carried that feeling with me as I drove us past the rich side of town, where the lake met low cliffs, and everything turned to thick forest. A long tin building stood at the far end of a dusty parking lot.
Wake & Wreck was the weirdest store on the island.
One part offered boat rentals, one part offered dirt bike rentals, and the center, where they came together, offered snacks, drinks, and hiking gear rentals.
Parking out of the way, I held out a hand to Harley. His fingers entwined with mine, and he let me take the lead as I headed toward the dirt bike side of Wake & Wreck.
Ripp Cutter was in the open garage, changing tires on an old yellow dirt bike.
He was in his late thirties with long blond hair tied back behind a bandana, tanned skin, and a permanent scowl.
Despite his grumpy expression, he was a pretty chill guy.
Every so often, he tossed me a shift or two helping him fix up the bikes.
In return, I could take one out for a ride whenever I wanted.
“You got two in the shop?” I asked as a way of greeting.
He grunted and rocked back on his heels as he grabbed the dirt rag from his back pocket.
He took his time wiping his hands and standing up.
The man was impossibly tall. He said six-eight, I said bullshit, but the inches between us were wild.
I had to crane my head back just to get a good look at the guy.
“You know I always got a bike in the back for you. But you,” Ripp began as he scrutinized Harley with the kind of stare that could make a hardened man squirm.
“You’re going to need to sign a waiver before I ever let you touch a bike.
Ain’t no way in hell am I letting you go out without one.
The last thing I need is a fucking lawsuit from your mother. ”
I bit back a laugh. Yet another fan of Mrs. Lowell.
“I can do that,” Harley replied. His lips were pressed together tightly as he nodded slowly. The complicated look on his face caught my attention.
“All right.” Ripp tossed the dirt rag on the back of the bike and strode toward the inside door.
“Be right there!” I called after him. When we were as alone as we were going to get, I stepped up close to Harley. He leaned forward and kissed me as if on instinct. The notion made my heart swell. “You okay?”
“I was supposed to do breakfast with my mother and… guests this morning,” he muttered, and my heart sank. I tried not to let it get to me as I sighed. He had obligations, and I had to be okay with that.
”Well, I can take you back—”
“No! No… I just… ” Harley interrupted. His fingers tightened in mine as he struggled to say what he wanted to say. I waited and gave him the room he needed to figure it out.
Eventually, he gave up and inched closer, his forehead tipping against mine. I took his face in my hands and covered every inch of his pretty face in soft kisses. The tension in his expression melted slowly as he exhaled.
“Let’s go sign the paperwork so my mother won’t sue your friend,” he whispered.
“Friend is a pretty big assumption there,” I scoffed. “I don’t think Ripp does friends. Amicable acquaintance is more like it. Sometimes he’s my boss.”
“You sure work for a lot of people, don’t you?”
“Eh.” I shrugged. I didn’t want him worrying about that kind of thing. Not today of all days. I kissed him once. Twice. Three times. “Come on. Let’s get you on a dirt bike.”
As it turned out, Harley’s ability to ride a dirt bike hadn’t improved since the last time we’d done it.
It was the same laugh-worthy, determined endeavor all over again—too much throttle, not enough balance.
He kept at it because he was stubborn as hell, and, eventually, he got it.
Still, I stuck to the easy trails, glancing back at him more than I needed to as I led him through the woods to Widow’s Drop.
The overlook opened up suddenly as the trees gave way to a wide stretch of water below, glittering under the sun.
It was a popular tourist spot for those looking for the best view in Wilde Bay.
Local teens used it as a make-out place whenever they could, while other locals refused to come out here because of the ghost stories.
It wasn’t called Widow’s Drop for nothing.
Me? I just liked the quiet. For a place to breathe. It was a nice alternative to the beach. And Aidan had yet to figure out I came up here, making it the easiest way to avoid him.
Harley and I leaned against the stone rail in quiet, just staring out at the clear water.
Well, Harley stared at the water, while I watched him.
I studied all the little dips and shadows in his pensive expression—the tension in his shoulders, the slight furrow in his brow, the way his mouth pressed into a tight line.
As much as I wanted to, I didn’t push. I knew eventually he’d let me in on whatever thoughts were twisting through that anxious mind of his.
“If you could do anything with your life, what would you do?” Harley asked finally. The question caught me off guard. Out of everything I’d assumed he was thinking, that wasn’t it.
“Leave,” I said honestly. When he glanced at me, I elaborated, “All of my problems are here in Wilde Bay. Anywhere Aidan isn’t means my life will be infinitely better.”
And maybe, if the things worked in my favor just once, Harley would be with me.
“That’s fair,” he replied, but his voice was distant like he was only half there.
Reaching out, I brushed my fingers through his hair and curled my fingers around the back of his neck, grounding both of us more than I’d ever admit.
I pulled him closer to press my lips to his temple in a lingering kiss.
“What about you?” I prompted.
“I’m not happy, Maverick,” Harley whispered. He exhaled heavily and leaned over, his chin resting on his forearms as his gaze remained fixated on the water. Even softer, he repeated, “I’m not happy.”
“I know,” I said because I did know. I saw it in every forced smile, every hesitation, every moment where he was somewhere else entirely. I’d have to be an idiot not to notice. “What would make you happy?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know,” I began, ready to voice the thing that I knew he needed to hear but would have trouble accepting, “you’re allowed to have a say in your life, Harley.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” he replied too quickly—too certain that he had no say whatsoever.
“Yeah, it does. It’s your life,” I told him. “You can do whatever the fuck you want. You don’t owe your family crap. Just tell your mother to fuck off and do what you want.”
“Is that how you deal with Aidan?” Harley asked.
I stilled. He rotated slightly, leveling me with a questioning stare, and I scowled under the weight of his expression.
“Or are you about to tell me he doesn’t beat the crap out of you from time to time?
That you fell down a flight of stairs or something like that. ”
Of course, he’d clock my ass. He was too damn observant for his own good. The spike of anger was hot and fast, making my chest constrict painfully. My jaw ticked as I looked away—looked anywhere but at him. It was hard to make him understand why I stayed.
“Yeah, Aidan’s a fucking dick,” I agreed. “I’m not denying it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.”
“A plan… so it’s not an instant, do-whatever-you-want fix like you’re pretending it is.”
“No, no, it’s not.”
“Yeah.” Harley fell silent, and I joined him as it weighed heavily between us.
I leaned back against the stone and stared out over the water. My mind raced with a million little things to say. I wanted to tell him to stay—to say fuck it all and stay with me. To choose something different for himself.
But the words stuck in my throat. That familiar, gnawing doubt crept in. It wrapped through my chest like a vise. Because what if I said it… and he didn’t choose me back? I wasn’t sure I could handle him rejecting me.