Page 141 of A Little Complicated

“Okay, so where’s the alcohol?” Dylan asks. “I need a drink to get through this night.”

“Whatever, this is going to be fun,” Finley promises. “I bet they have some drinks in the kitchen.”

Acting as if she owns the place, Finley leads us into the kitchen and pours herself some Diet Coke. Finley doesn’t drink alcohol since it can trigger her epilepsy, but with enough sass while sober, she’s never needed the liquid courage. Unlike Dylan, who looks like she might puke if anyone tries to talk to her. My hands feel sweaty, so I wipe them against my jean shorts and grab a seltzer from a red cooler beside the table leg. It fizzles against my tastebuds as I take a sip. I let out a slow breath, waiting for its warmth to spread and hopefully calm my anxiety.

Resting the cool can against my lips, I scan the space. When a familiar profile grabs my attention from the hall, my brows pull, and I examine it closer.

It’s Mav.

He looks good. His dark T-shirt stretches across his pecs and hugs his biceps. He pushes his wavy hair away from his face as he scans the family room and gives the kitchen his full attention.

When he catches me staring, he dips his head in greeting and strides toward me.

Shit.

I’m not ready. Not when Archer could be anywhere. Could see us together. Could hold it against me.

My spine turns into a steel rod as I freeze in place while he approaches. When he gets close enough, he pulls Dylan and Finley into quick side hugs. I wait for him to give me one as well, but he doesn’t touch me. He only offers me a smile. “Opie.”

“Mav,” I murmur.

The same swell of butterflies bat their wings inside my stomach, and I fold my arms, hoping to calm the stupid things.

It doesn’t work.

His smile widens, but he doesn’t comment. “I’ll see you outside, yeah?”

I nod. “Okay.”

He slips past me, letting his fingers brush against mine as he heads to the back door and onto the patio. I ache to grab hold of his hand and link it with mine. Instead, I watch him leave, wishing I could pull him aside and ask what he wants to talk to me about. What he wants to say. If he really misses me the same way I’ve missed him, despite the short span of time it’s been since we’ve been together.

An arm is tossed around my shoulder, and Reeves yanks me into his side, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I see you’re making yourselves at home,” he notes.

Snapping myself from staring at Maverick’s backside, I turn to Reeves and give him my full attention. “Hello to you, too, Reeves.”

With a boyish smirk, he asks, “Care to introduce me to your friends?”

Friends.Right.

Clearing my throat, I shrug out of his grasp and motion to my cousins. “Reeves, this is Finley, Everett’s little sister, and Dylan, Griffin’s little sister. Fin, Dylan, this is Reeves.”

Shamelessly, his eyes roll over each of them. “The family’s all here, I see.”

“Would you expect anything less?” Finley grins, taking a sip of her drink.

“Of course not.” Reeves’ chuckle is low and throaty as he looks at me. “How are you doing?”

Act. Normal.

I force a smile. “Never better. You?”

“Could be a little better. Your boy has his panties in a twist.” He lifts his chin toward the back patio.

“Oh?” Finley interjects. “Which one?”

I glare at her, and she grins. “I’m teasing.”

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