26. Mav
TWENTY-SIX
MAV
“Merry Christmas, Mckenna,” I say when she walks into the brownstone.
She shakes the snow off the hood of her coat and hangs it on a hook by the door. “It’s Christmas Eve , Mav.” Her voice holds a hint of irritation I don’t understand. After the way things went sideways in New York City, Mckenna’s erected a fucking impenetrable wall, higher than the Burj Khalifa, around her heart. And her mind. She’s lost in her thoughts, turning inwards in a way that worries me.
“I know.” I drop my elbows to the butcher block island. “What are your plans tonight? And tomorrow? Are you seeing your mom?”
“Yes, my mom invited me to dinner tonight.”
“That’s great!” I say it with too much enthusiasm, but the truth is, I think Mckenna needs a role model right now. An older, wiser, caring woman to help her work through the thoughts she’s got on a mental loop. While I’m sure there are women better suited to the task, I hope her mom can show up for her.
“I guess.” Mckenna sighs.
“Have fun,” I say, meaning it. Even though Mckenna doesn’t give much away where her parents are concerned, I know their relationship, or lack thereof, bothers her. Mr. and Mrs. Byrne are more concerned with their public image and how their divorce plays out in their social circle than they are about their only daughter’s feelings.
As much as I want Mckenna to reconnect with her parents for her peace of mind, a sliver of disappointment works through my chest. If she flew solo tonight, I’d convince her to come to dinner at my brother’s. I’d start to pull her out of her shell again. I’d remind her of how much fun we have together and prove that the way I acted in New York City isn’t the real me. At least, not when I’m with her.
Instead, I’ll be flying solo.
“Thanks. You too. Tell Jameson and Amelia Merry Christmas.” With that, she turns her back and climbs the stairs to her bedroom.
Sighing, I swipe a bottle of whiskey and slip on my coat and boots. Then, I head to my brother’s to celebrate my favorite holiday.
Except I don’t feel celebratory.
“Where’s Kenny?” Jameson asks when he answers the door.
“Dinner with her mom.” I pass him the whiskey. “Merry Christmas, brother.”
Jameson pulls me into a hug. “Merry Christmas. Too bad. I was looking forward to seeing her.”
“Yeah. I wish she had come.” I step into his home. “Merry Christmas, Amelia.”
Jameson’s longtime girlfriend has been a fixture in my life nearly as long as she’s been present in his, since high school. She gives me a little wave and kisses my cheeks hello. “Merry Christmas, Mav.”
As I enter their house, I greet Amelia’s parents and grandparents. Her brother is planted in front of the television, and her twin nieces run around the place.
“Hey!” I swipe up one of the twins. Aria or Avery? All these years and I still can’t tell them apart. I toss her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Were you good this year, or are you getting coal?”
“Coal!” her twin cries out, cheering.
“That’s the truth,” jokes Amelia’s sister-in-law, Jill. “Good to see you, Mav.” She kisses me hello before tickling the backs of her daughter’s legs. I put the little rascal down.
“Merry Christmas, Jill.” Out of Amelia’s family, Jill is the best. Sometimes, it breaks my heart that she married into the Rickson family and inherited all their bullshit. It squashed her potential real quick. Sometimes, I worry the same fate will befall Jameson if he ever slides the ostentatious diamond Amelia desperately wants on her finger.
In the kitchen, Amelia and her mother start bickering. A part of me knows it’s better Mckenna isn’t present for this. I saved her from being embarrassed by Amelia. On the other hand, I wish I had a partner to glance at and roll my eyes, or joke around with, as Christmas dinner starts off terribly.
“Here we go,” Jill murmurs. “I’m gonna top off my wineglass.”
Snickering, I find my brother and gratefully accept the tumbler of whiskey he pours.
“Everything okay between you and Kenny now? Things seemed intense in the city,” Jameson comments.
I shrug. “My popularity ratings are up. The band isn’t taking a hit because of my fuckup.”
“That’s not why I’m asking.”
I sigh. “I know.” I take a swig of the whiskey. “She’s barely speaking to me—to anyone. It’s driving me fucking nuts. Did Carrington say something to her? Did I scare her? She’s lost in her thoughts.”
“She was embarrassed.” My brother keeps his voice low so Amelia’s grandmother, a nosy woman with a bitter streak a mile wide, doesn’t overhear.
“Yeah, but it’s more than that. I want to make it up to her. I want to understand why she’s shutting me out, but I don’t know how,” I admit.
“Jameson!” Amelia’s voice cracks like a whip. “I need you in the kitchen. Now!”
My brother sighs heavily. “Don’t ask me, man. Even though you’re technically single, you probably have the romance and wooing shit down better than I do.” He places his tumbler on a side table and moves toward the kitchen.
I watch him go, wondering for the millionth time why the hell he stays with a woman who treats him so shitty. If Amelia truly loved my brother, I could look the other way. But the fact that she cheated on him multiple times and managed to win him back makes me question Jameson’s sanity. Then, I end up pitying my brother. And I hate feeling that way, especially on Christmas.
I polish off my drink and go find the twins. At least they’ll be excited about Santa.
It’s still relatively early when I return to the brownstone. I assume Mckenna is at dinner with her mother, so I’m surprised when I find her curled into the corner of the couch. Her feet are tucked underneath her, and she’s munching on popcorn laced with chocolate chips, watchinga holiday rom-com, and drinking wine.
“Mckenna?”
She jumps at the sound of my voice. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“How was dinner?” I question, my gaze darting from the popcorn to the wine, to the television, and back to her.
Guilt streaks across her face, and my stomach twists. She’d rather be alone on Christmas than spend time with me. The same woman who decorated sugar cookies and held my hand while walking into my label’s holiday party can’t stand me.
She tosses a dismissive hand, not bothering to answer my question since we both know it will be a lie.
I sit down on the coffee table and face her. “Do something with me.”
“What?” She shakes her head.
“Christmas is supposed to be fun.”
“Not my Christmases. I had one good one—in the City. And every one since has been lonely.”
“Your mom didn’t invite you to dinner, did she?”
Mckenna shakes her head, her eyes swimming with tears. She drags the cuff of her hoodie across her face. “My dad called though. So, there’s that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you—look, I know I fucked up with you, Mckenna. I know New York was a shitshow. And I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do.”
She leans back in surprise, like she can’t believe I apologized.
But I can admit when I’m wrong. I’ve been wrong about Mckenna for years now.
She stares at me for a beat before sighing heavily. “It’s not that, Mav. We already hashed that out in the city. I’m not angry with you.”
“You’re not? Then, what is it? Why are you shutting me out?”
She sighs, watching me for a long moment. “What do you want to do?”
It’s not an answer to my question but it’s a step in the right direction, so I take it. If I can get this woman to smile on Christmas, I’ll consider it a win.
“Let’s build a fort.”
“What?” She snorts, shaking her head. “No. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not seven!”
“Don’t you remember how fun it was being seven?”
Mckenna’s eyes are wide, less wary than earlier today. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”
“I’m always serious about serious things.”
The corner of her mouth twitches, and she almost smiles. Ah, I’m so close to a breakthrough!
“Come on.” I grab her wrist and tug. “We need the couch cushions. Go get a sheet.”
“I… This?—”
“Please, Mckenna. It’s Christmas.”
She shakes her head, but does as I ask. Reluctant as always, that one. She returns a few minutes later with a sheet. We construct the foundation of our fort from chairs, the coffee table, and couch cushions. Then, we carefully place the sheet on top to serve as our roof.
I lift the flap of the sheet. “After you.”
Mckenna snorts and rolls her eyes, but she’s amused. She crawls inside, and I pass her some additional pillows and blankets. Crawling in after her, I set up some twinkle lights I swiped from the mantle. I grab the bottle of wine and another glass and make a little popcorn picnic in the center of our fort.
Mckenna shifts in the space next to me. “Now what?”
“Now, we talk.”
She wrinkles her nose. Fine, too soon.
“Or we can watch a Christmas movie.”
She smiles. “I’m watching a romantic comedy.”
“I know,” I sigh.
She lifts an eyebrow, waiting for me to back out.
“Will you restart it?” I ask, not wanting to tune in halfway through the movie.Even though I’ll probably judge the premise the entire time, I’d like to know exactly what I’m commenting on.
“Okay,” she says shyly.
I smirk. “I got you something.”
Her lips part, and her wariness reemerges, ringing her irises. “You did?”
“Yep.” I pull a small baggie from my pocket and place it in her hand.
Her fingers wrap around the jewelry pouch, and she eyes me skeptically. “What is it?”
“You suck at receiving presents. I’ll have to buy you more,” I joke.
She laughs lightly and unties the pouch’s drawstrings. Gently, she shakes out the brooch inside, holding it flat on her palm. Mckenna gasps. “This is, it’s just like my grandma’s.” Her eyes dart to mine. “It’s the one we saw in New York City.”
I like watching how pleased and surprised she looks. I love how her eyes lighten, and a genuine smile crosses her lips. “Merry Christmas, Mckenna.”
“Maverick,” she breathes my full name, and it sounds like a prayer. Reverent and deeply personal. “I don’t know what to say.”
Emotion swims up my throat. I clear it away. “Say you’ll wear it in good health.”
Her eyes flick to mine again. This time, they hold. She closes her hand around the brooch. “Thank you. Truly.”
The moment stretches between us, filled with regret and understanding. Layered with expectation and desire. I stare at Mckenna until she blinks, and then the spell ends.
I lean back against the pillows. Grabbing the remote control, I move to push play.
“I didn’t get you anything,” she admits, embarrassed.
I laugh. “That’s okay. I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“Neither was I.”
I smile at her. “I’m glad I could surprise you then.”
Mckenna nods and wraps up the brooch. She sips her wine, and something passes through her eyes. A quiet acceptance, a sincere resolve. “Press play, Mav.”
I start the movie.
Mckenna and I hang out in the fort we built and eat popcorn until we fall asleep. It’s the best Christmas Eve I’ve had in years because I got a gift I never knew I wanted.
Mckenna’s friendship.