Page 36 of The Consequence of Loving Me

When I don’t answer, he slowly brushes my long hair off my shoulder, allowing him a full view of the tattoo, his fingertip still hovering over the start of it. Finally, I get in the right mind to back away, but only by an inch.

We are still close—too close. I wish to be anywhere but in this dingy booth with him. Not even the sound of the broken speakers or the clanking of beer bottles can lower the loud rush of blood pumping through my veins.

My heart shouldn’t quicken for anyone anymore. It died right along with Connor. But here it is, doing just that for a boy who drives me insane most of the time.

A boy with a very serious long-term girlfriend.

“Destroy what destroys you,” he murmurs, but I barely hear him over the sound of the sad music.

His eyes find mine and they look sad. And for the first time in a long time, I feel bad for being the reason for someone’s sadness.

“What does that even mean, Veronica?” he asks.

My throat closes up with more memories of Connor.

The feeling of my hand wrapped in his.

His lips, his love.

His death.

I don’t want to be here, but Maverick sits on the outside of the booth and it would take effort to get out—effort I simply don’t have right now. I know my only way out and away from Maverick is to give him what he wants.

“It means what it says, no more and no less. Destroy what destroys you.”

“And what has destroyed you?” he asks, his words strained.

It's a small gesture, a platonic one even, but when his soothing hand rests against my shoulder, I start to panic.

Not because he’s touching me—but because I like it.

“Love, Maverick. Love destroyed me.”

He winces as soon as the nasty four-letter word leaves my mouth, as if what I just admitted really pained him. His hand comes off my shoulder and rests in his lap. He looks down at his fingers, causing his dark hair to fall over his forehead. He doesn't look back up at me when he says, “I don’t know what happened with Connor, but love doesn’t destroy.”

I sigh, not willing to give him any more of an explanation. I wait for him to look back up at me before I speak. “Love does destroy. It destroys more than anything else in the universe. You’re in a perfect world where you have this perfect relationship where love can heal all, but that isn’t the case for all of us. Love might complete you, but it destroyed me.” I grab my bag from the corner of the booth and turn to him, silently begging him to move.

He lets out a long exhale before he slides out, but he still stands in my way.

I manage to get out and stand, but it forces me to stand right in front of him—our bodies only a mere inch apart. His chest rises quickly and I wonder why my words have this kind of effect on him. I can smell the scent of his cologne, a perfect mix between earthy and sweet. The smell of mint drifts from his mouth, sending my senses into overdrive.

I look him in the eye, bracing myself for whatever cliché saying about love that’s about to leave his mouth. He surprises me by not uttering a word. He pins me with an unreadable gaze for a few moments before he pulls his hood up over his face and retreats out the bar.

I’m left staring at his back, wondering why I feel disappointed that, this time, he didn’t put up a fight.

20

Maverick

I walk through the front door to find Selma waiting for me.

“Where did you go?” She sits on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, her phone laid out in front of her. The look on her face is sad, almost defeated. I want to wipe it off her face.

“I was at Lenny’s.” My keys make a chiming sound when they fall into the bowl on the table by the door. I take off my coat slowly, hanging it on the hook. The beat of my heart starts to pick up when it seems like we’re about to have a conversation I’m not ready for.

I won’t lie to Selma. We know each other too well for lies.

“And what was at Lenny’s?” She turns her body in the chair, completely facing me. Her short hair is wet, sending droplets of water down her bare shoulders.

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