CHAPTER 32 Everleigh Bradley
That Complicated Head
I quietly hold him as he finally unleashes his emotions. His mom just died. I don’t expect him to hold himself together. I don’t expect him to be the gruff, unfeeling man he was when I met him.
He feels this—as he should. And I’ll be right here to let him feel it all by his side.
“Sorry,” he eventually says.
“For what?” I honestly can’t imagine a scenario where he feels like he needs to apologize for anything.
“Just…it’s intense. I’m intense. I know I am. And this is heavy.”
I shift us so I can take his jaw between my fingertips, and my eyes meet his. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. Yeah, it’s heavy. But you know what? Life’s fucking heavy, and sometimes we need to lean on someone else to help us bear the weight.”
He blinks as if this is news to him. It’s something he’s never considered—going through something with someone else instead of against the entire world.
“I’ve never felt like this before, Ev,” he whispers.
I press my lips to his. “Neither have I.”
“I’m your client,” he says—as if I need the reminder.
“I know.” I drop my fingers from his jaw.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
I shake my head. “We shouldn’t. But we are. And I don’t want to stop.”
“I don’t, either,” he admits. “But we can’t get caught.”
“Jack would fire me if he knew I was sleeping with you. It would ruin my entire future.”
His eyes move back and forth between mine when he says, “He’d fire you if I told him I’ve fallen in love with you.”
My breath hitches as my chest tightens. “Why would you tell him that?” I ask carefully.
“Because it’s the truth. I love you.”
Tears pinch behind my eyes. “I love you, too.”
His mouth covers mine, and there’s no more talking as he pushes me back onto the bed, gets rid of our clothes, and spends the morning showing me that his words are true.
For the next week, we continue being professional in public, and we spend our private time largely naked.
The following Sunday finds us winning against the Texans at their own home stadium, and we head back to Vegas with the team Sunday night only to turn around Monday afternoon and hop on a plane to Cincinnati.
I’ve managed to touch base with all six of my siblings, and everyone is handling the news of our mother’s illness in the way I’d expect.
Madden has helped her with final arrangements.
Dex is sending her photos of her grandchild more often.
Ford is helping Madden. Archer responded to my text to let me know he’s aware of the situation and that he’s out of town since his season is over.
Liam and Ivy are spending as much time as they can with her since they live closest to her.
And then there’s me. The caretaker, making sure my siblings are okay since my mom won’t admit something’s really, really wrong. I guess I have to step up into the shoes she never wanted to wear.
It’s so strange to be going to a funeral to say goodbye to someone else’s mother knowing that I might be going to my own mother’s funeral in the not-so-distant future.
It’s depressing, actually.
Maverick is quiet as we board the plane, and it feels a bit like he’s starting to shut down—or shut me out.
I call him out on it when we’re in our first-class seats just before takeoff.
“Talk to me, Jennings.”
“About?” he asks, flicking his eyes toward the window.
“What’s going through that complicated head of yours?”
He turns back to me, no emotion in his eyes as he mutters, “Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You think I’m going to let you get away with that? Think again, pal.”
“Pal?”
I shrug.
“Better than hotshot, I guess.”
I can’t help a small laugh at that. “You can’t be so open with me one day and shut down the next. It doesn’t work like that. I’m right here, and I’m not going to let you shut me out. I’m not going to let you push me away. Not when you invited me to be here with you.”
He snags his bottom lip between his teeth, and then he presses his lips together. He reaches over and grabs my hand in his. “Thank you,” he whispers.
My brows dip together. “For what?”
“For not letting me slip back into old habits. I’m not used to having someone around who cares.”
“Well, get used to it. Pal.”
He gives me a huff of a chuckle at that.
“What are you really thinking?” I ask.
He sighs, and he looks up at the ceiling as the plane starts to taxi down the runway. The flight attendants are talking about safety, but all I can listen to is his voice.
“I’m nervous,” he admits.
“You?” I ask, shocked that those are his words. He seems like the least nervous person I’ve ever met. “About what?”
“I’m nervous my father is going to show up to the funeral, and I’d prefer to keep you away from him,” he says through a clenched jaw.
I’m not sure why he wants to keep me away. It’s not like I’m going to run off with his dad. But then it dawns on me that he hates his dad, and maybe he just wants to protect me from that.
“There are actually quite a few people I’d prefer not to see who might show up. I’ve been dreading this day more and more, and I’m sorry I didn’t admit that to you sooner,” he says quietly.
I squeeze his hand in mine.
“I don't really care who shows up and who doesn't,” I say. “Regardless of who's there, my hand will be firmly in yours. And that is something you can count on.”
He squeezes my hand back. “Thank you,” he whispers.
The flight is fairly lengthy, and a sense of nervousness seems to fall over both of us the closer we get to our destination. We’re quiet as we each do our own thing, me working—as usual—on some different opportunities Ellie has shared with me as he studies film ahead of next week's game.
When we finally land, we take a car to our hotel. We check in, call for room service, and take some time to just relax before the funeral tomorrow. It's just a normal, everyday sort of activity with what feels more and more like the man who has become my boyfriend.
We don’t have sex. We're not climbing all over each other as we have been for the last few weeks, but instead it's this lovely sort of quiet time that we really haven't had the chance to experience yet.
He chooses a movie from the on-demand options, and we snuggle on the bed after we eat as we simply enjoy each other's company in a way we never have.
We fall asleep like that, tangled together, relaxed and comfortable with one another as we both separately start to dread what we know is coming tomorrow.
When morning dawns, things look virtually the same as they did yesterday, but the big difference is today is the day Maverick will have to say goodbye to his mother.
It's a day he's surely thought of and has probably dreaded but knew would eventually come. It brings to mind my own fears, as I know my own mother's time is coming as well.
The difference is that he's close with his mom. He had the kind of relationship once upon a time with her that I had always dreamed of having with my mom but never got to experience.
It's not too late, a tiny voice in my head whispers. I think back to the last conversation I had with her and realize that just because it's not too late doesn't mean it was ever meant to be.
I force those thoughts away. Today’s about Maverick.
I slip into the black dress I brought for the occasion as Maverick slips into his suit. Despite the heat I definitely feel climbing up my spine as I see him emerge all dressed up, I'm well aware that this isn't the time to act on those feelings.
“Wow,” he breathes. “You look incredible.”
“I was actually just thinking the same thing about you,” I say, and he pulls me into his arms.
He holds me for a few quiet beats, breathing me in as he seems to pull strength from our connection. I hold him to me as well as I try to be what he needs, hoping it's enough. Hoping I am enough as we face this difficult day together.
Eventually he lets go and takes my hand in his. We head down to the front of the hotel, where a car is already waiting to take us to the funeral home.
The day will start with a service at a church, the burial, and finally a luncheon where we’ll greet other people who cared about his mother.
As the car travels on toward our destination, I sense his nerves pick up. I grab his hand as I promised I would, and he looks gratefully over at me. My heart skips a beat when I see the appreciation in his eyes that I am here with him, that he doesn't have to go through any of this alone.
It makes me wonder whether I'll have his hand to hold in mine when the time comes when I have to do this with my own family.
Before me, I think he was alone except for his mother. Maverick has no brothers or sisters to face this with, no one to stand between him and the father who betrayed his family so often should the man decide to show up today.
I feel a sense of nervousness for him that he may be forced to face the man he carries so many negative feelings for.
I find myself in a strange position as I wonder whether I'll meet his father today. We’re not at a meet the family stage yet, though I feel a dart of sadness rush through me that I never got to meet the mother who gave so many of the characteristics that I love about him, that the first time I'll ever interact with her is at this funeral today as I stand by his side to help him say goodbye.
We pull up in front of a church, and he pauses for a beat in the backseat before he gets out of the car. He draws in a deep breath and finally opens the door. He walks around the car and helps me out, taking my hand in his and not letting go.
When we walk into the atrium, a few people are gathered, but it's not a huge affair.
It makes me wonder a little bit about her final years and whether she had anybody aside from Maverick who would come visit her and spend time with her.
Maverick lets out a soft breath beside me as a man who I immediately identify as his father walks toward us.
My chest tightens as a shudder runs through me at the obvious similarities between these two men.