CHAPTER 17 Everleigh Bradley #2
My eyes edge over to Maverick, who isn’t pretending to slide his key into his lock like a normal person might do. Instead, he’s staring daggers at Billy.
Interesting.
I force one foot in front of the other to meet Billy’s outstretched arms. “What are you doing here?” I ask as he wraps his arms around me.
“I told you I was coming into town,” he says.
“Right. I didn’t realize it was, well, now. How did you know where I live?”
“I checked in with your brother so I could surprise you. Is now a bad time?”
I can’t think of what would be a good time to have my ex-boyfriend show up on my doorstep, but I guess this is no worse than any other time.
“No, it’s fine,” I say. I hear a grunt in the periphery, and then I say brightly, “Come on in.” I open my front door and disappear inside without so much as a backward glance at Maverick, which I’m sure sets him all the way on edge.
He’s a lit fuse. It’s dangerous to blow at the flame, and yet…that’s basically what I just did.
“So…this is my new place.” I hold my arms up to indicate the place.
“Helluva view,” he murmurs, beelining for my floor-to-ceiling windows.
“I’ll admit, I stand here and stare out at it all the time.”
“While you’re humming and coming up with your next big plan of action?” he teases.
Well, there’s the proof in the pudding. The man knows me. And at one point, he knew me better than anyone else.
God, he’s still so devilishly handsome, and I don’t exactly have anything else going on at the moment.
But still.
Falling back into old habits would be dangerous.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask.
“Sure. Casamigos if you’ve got it. Or we could go out,” he suggests.
Like a date? Might actually be safer than having him here in my home.
“How long are you in town?” I ask as I grab the bottle from the cabinet I deemed the liquor cabinet when I moved in.
“All week.” He’s still over by the windows, which gives me a bit of space to breathe. “I have a deposition with one of our high-profile clients, and Andrew asked me to look into a corporate deal for him while I’m here. How’s life out here so far?”
“I’m settling in,” I say, pouring two glasses because, let’s face it, alcohol will help me get through this.
“I heard through the grapevine that you gave up all your Chicago clients to move out here for one. Who is it?”
“Confidential,” I murmur, and I pick up both glasses and carry one over to him, my heels clicking on the hardwood floors all the way over.
He holds up his glass without a thanks, and he says, “To reconnecting.”
“I’m sorry, Billy, but I can’t drink to that. How about to apologizing first?”
He looks surprised and a bit miffed, and I wish I would’ve had the foresight to freshen up my lipstick on the way home.
What if Maverick would’ve actually kissed me on the elevator like I wanted him to, and we both got off the elevator wearing the same shade of red as my ex stood in front of my door?
The thought nearly makes me laugh out loud.
“Well, then. I’m sorry,” he says.
“For?”
“For whatever it is I did that offended you.”
I huff out a laugh. I can’t help but feel like for as much as the breakup hurt, I ended up right where I was supposed to.
A lifetime with non-apologies like that one would never work for someone like me.
He’s going to need to find someone who doesn’t mind being held down by the thumb I never realized was quite as oppressive as it was when we were together.
If he wants to hold someone down, I guess. I’m not quite sure he does, given his reason for ending things with me.
“That feels like a real sincere apology,” I say.
“I don’t understand you,” he mutters.
“What’s not to get? It’s pretty simple. I deserve to be treated with respect rather than you showing up at my door uninvited and waltzing in like you deserve a night in my bed just because we have a history.”
His brows dip together, and he sputters a little. “That—that’s not…that’s not what this is, Ev.”
“Then what is it?” I demand. I’ve dealt with Maverick’s surliness all day, and I don’t have the energy for mental Olympics with Billy now.
“Two old friends getting together to catch up.”
I know him well enough to know when he’s bullshitting me. “Right. Okay, then lay it on me. How have you been?” I work incredibly hard to keep the sarcasm out of my tone.
“Truth?” He turns toward me, and I see the man I fell in love with.
Only…he looks different. He looks older.
Tired. Worn down. “I’ve been miserable without you.
I’ve tried to justify that I did the right thing, but it turns out I didn’t.
I was wrong. I never should have ended things.
I never should have given up the greatest thing that ever happened to me. ”
“So you sweep into Vegas a couple months after I move here, expecting me to just drop everything and take you back?” I ask quietly.
He lifts a shoulder, which confirms my suspicions even though his words try to negate them. “No. I don’t expect anything from you. But I was hoping maybe you felt it too and would be willing to give this another chance with me.”
I press my lips together, and then fuck it all. I chug down the tequila in my glass. “Six months ago, I would’ve given anything to hear those words. But six months is a long time, and I’ve changed.”
“So let me change with you,” he begs.
I shake my head. I feel a little off balance by this entire conversation. “I like wearing red lipstick.”
He takes a step toward me. “And it’s gorgeous on you.”
“I like wearing red dresses. I like my black shoes with the red soles. But you know what I’ve learned to like most of all, Billy?” I ask, and when I turn, he’s mere inches from me. Close enough to kiss if that’s the way I wanted this conversation to go. As it turns out, though, it isn’t.
“What?” he breathes.
“I like my freedom.” I press my lips together and step away from him. I refill my glass of tequila.
He blows out a breath of disappointment or frustration, I’m not sure. But I find that I don’t really care.
The only thing I can seem to think about at this moment is what Maverick thought when he saw a handsome man in a suit standing in front of my door.