Page 79 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

“You, too.” I give him a light squeeze.

Relinquishing our holds on one another, I step back next to Caleb, gesturing to make introductions. “Caleb, this is Finn. He’s an old friend. Finn, this is Caleb. My boyfriend.”

Finn extends his hand into the space between them. “It’s great to meet you, man.”

“Likewise.” Caleb locks into his grasp, supplying a firm shake accompanied by a pleasant smile.

“I heard you got a job.” Finn returns his attention to me. “Mental health counselor? That’s amazing, Jones.”

“Thank you, but I’m not licensed yet. I still have to get my Master’s. I’m just thankful the women’s shelter over on Fulton is willing to hire me on as a case manager while I do my online classes. I start soon, right after Daphne’s wedding, actually.”

College was fine, don’t get me wrong. But I’m craving real world experience. So, when I found a Master’s program out of New York City that I could complete primarily online and inquired about employment opportunities, the perfect situation just kind of fell into my lap. I’m able to work as a case manager at the shelter and, when the time comes to complete my internship, my job will serve as eligible hours. Their social worker has also agreed to take me under her wing. I’ll be able to make a difference with survivors of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. I’ll be able to help women like me.

“You’re gonna be so great,” Finn reiterates. “They’re lucky to have you.”

“Thanks. I’ve been over there a couple times to set up the space and meet some of the staff. Everyone seems super sweet. I’m excited to get started. I’d start now if they’d let me, but their funding for the new cycle doesn’t kick in ‘til August so I have to wait.”

“You could just attend school on campus, then open your own private practice like we talked about,” Caleb interjects, before looking to Finn. “She wouldn’t be limited by lack of resources if she had her own office, and she could be in a better area.”

My jaw clenches in annoyance as he revisits a tired discussion, one we’ve had far too many times. “And as I told you, someday maybe that’s a direction I’ll go. But for now, this is where I want to be.”

“And good luck changing her mind once it’s set.” The familiar voice sneaks up on me from behind.

My body goes rigid as he steps around me, his powerful presence coming to stand alongside Finn, who’s currently shooting me apologetic glances.

It’s easy to forget how tall Mav is compared to the average guy, especially when his boys are similar in height. However, standing in front of Caleb, I’m reminded just how commanding his form can be in a space, even outdoors.

He’s wearing a fitted white V-neck—an uncommon deviation from his trademark color, though I suppose even Mav isn’t immune to the unforgiving summer heat—and black fitted jeans, because God forbid the brooding bastard ever stray too far from the color scheme of black or gray. The laces of his black combat boots hang in a loosely tied knot, as though he couldn’t be bothered with properly securing them. His heavily-tattooed skin contrasts fiercely against the white of his shirt, while his deep jade irises are hidden behind a pair of dark aviator frames.

This is not the Maverick I caught off guard last month in the street. This is Mav in his element, and while this little impromptu encounter may have been by chance, he isn’t rattled today.

“Hey, J.” The vibrations of his deep voice seem to reverberate within me, my thighs slightly tensing in response as my traitorous body hums at his proximity. “You look good.”

This heat had me dressing accordingly. My denim overall shorts sit one strap unhooked overtop my fitted white tank crop top. Hair piled high atop my head, a red bandana wraps around coming to tie in the front, the pop of color matching my red low-top Converse sneakers.

I don’t miss the way his eyes rake over me, slowly crawling down my body and though I shouldn’t give a flying fuck what Bishop thinks anymore, it brings me a sense of satisfaction that, if nothing else, he still finds me attractive.

Good. Eat your fucking heart out, Bishop.

“Maverick,” I acknowledge him with a nod, feigning indifference.

Mav, realizing I’m not planning on introducing him to Caleb, seizes control of the conversation. “J must have forgotten her manners.” His gaze swings from me to Caleb as he extends his hand. “Maverick Bishop.”

Caleb is slower to reciprocate this time, though eventually does, while continuing to eye Mav skeptically. “Caleb Price.”

There are no pleasantries exchanged between them as they release one another, with Mav’s eyes flickering back in my direction.

“Mav is an associate of my brother’s,” I offer up in explanation.

“Ah,” Caleb acknowledges. “That’s nice, Nick seems great.”

“Nicky’s a dipshit,” Mav deadpans, eyes still locked on me.

I scoff, grasping Caleb’s hand in my own. “Well, as fun as this was, we’re late to grab lunch. Finn, it was really great to see you. Don’t wait so long between texts next time.” I step into him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“You too, Jones.” He smiles, though his gaze momentarily flickers from me to the side. I follow, my attention drawn to Maverick, who’s now removed his sunglasses and is staring at him as though he’s going to skin him alive.

Fuck. Of course Mav didn’t know Finn stayed in touch.

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