Page 53 of A Little Complicated

“Duh,” I reply. “I might not be suited for black-tie events, but I’m not stupid. The question is, whatdoI wear?”

Tucking one of his thumbs into the front pocket of his jeans while sipping his coffee, he smacks his lips together and lifts his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Why not? Weren’t you raised attending black-tie events, thanks to your parents?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t been to one in forever. I stopped going as soon as I was old enough to realize they’re full of boring people who like to show how much money they have.”

“And then there’s Archer,” I quip.

“He got my grandpa’s genes,” Maverick informs me, mentioning his politician grandfather who practically basks in all the media’s attention. It’s nice. Seeing Maverick with his guard down. I hate how I notice.

“A hundred bucks says Archer winds up being a politician in the future,” Mav adds.

“To be fair, he’d probably be really good at it since he actually has his head on straight.”

“He’d have my vote,” Maverick agrees with a dry laugh, rubbing his hand along the top of his head and squeezing the back of his neck. “As long as he doesn’t make me attend any of his political rallies and shit.” He shivers.

With a laugh, I admit, “I get it. I’m not one for the spotlight, either.”

“Then why are you going tonight?” he asks.

“Because—”

“Don’t answer that,” he mutters. “Where do you want me to take you?”

His offer leaves me speechless, and I shake my head. “You don’t have to take me anywhere.”

“You don’t have a car, remember?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I need your help picking a dress. I’ll hire an Uber or—”

“I’ll wait outside, and you can pick your own shit. It’s the least I can do, isn’t it?” he offers. “Since I fucked up your prom and everything.”

My expression falls, but my stupid heart? It flutters with…something.It’s the first time he’s apologized. I mean, technically, he said he was sorry when he broke my heart over the phone, but after that, he ghosted me. He ghosted mehard. He pretended like nothing happened between us while making me feel like the bad guy for winding up with his brother. And I know it isn’t fair. I know I’m in the wrong, too, or at least made things a hell of a lot more complicated. But acknowledging he ruined my prom, leaving his brother to salvage it for me?

I don't know. It feels good. Like we’re finally making a little progress.Maybe.

“Mav,” I murmur, “you didn’t—”

“Tell me I did,” he orders, surprising me with the malice in his voice. The toes of his shoes hit mine as he steps closer and towers over me. “Tell me I fucked up your prom. Tell me the entire night was ruined. Lie if you have to.”

It’s his eyes that do me in. The stubbornness. The need. The way they narrow slightly while pleading with me at the same time.

“Why?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I battle the confusion tugging at me.

His breath touches my cheeks, the navy in his eyes swirling with different shades of blue. The combination pulls at my insides and makes it hard to breathe.

“Because the alternative’s a bitch to accept,” he rasps.

I open my mouth to ask what he means, but he tilts his head toward the exit. “Come on.”

He turns on his heel and leads me outside to the parking lot. His sleek, black Ducati is parked beneath a tree at the far corner. I hesitate, remembering the last time I was on the stupid thing and how good it felt to wrap my arms around him.

“Is there a problem, Opie?” he asks as his long, strong legs carry him toward the dangerous beast.

So many I can barely think straight.

I lift my half-finished iced latte into the air. “What about my drink?”

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