Page 40 of Bitter Beats

Confusion ripples over Mav’s expression. “Why? Your parents are?—”

“In the middle of a nasty divorce.” I scratch my nose. “It’s complicated and messy, and I’m…”

“What?” he presses.

“Forgotten,” I admit, trying to smile.It slips.

Maverick stares at me for a long time. He searches my eyes for answers I won’t give.

“You could never be forgotten, Mckenna,” he says quietly. He reaches for me, envelops me, holds me against his chest. One of his large hands cradles the back of my head. He presses a light kiss to my temple. “I don’t know all the details about your family, but I do understand how fucked up family dynamics can be,” he admits quietly. “And I could never forget you, Mckenna.” His tone is low and honest. He’s not taking a jab or making a joke, he’s…comforting me. “I’d never want to.”

His kindness leaves me on edge, causing me to shift my weight from one foot to the other. I’m scared to trust it. To trust him. And I hate that about myself.

I pull back to look at him, clocking his sincerity. Gah! I hate feeling vulnerable, naked, like this.

“Mav, I?—”

“Say yes, Mckenna,” he pleads, his expression earnest, his eyes steady. “Say yes. You may not like me. You may not trust me. I can’t offer you the emotional boyfriend shit you deserve. I suck at romantic stuff. I’m more of a pain in the ass than anything else, and you know that. Hell, I know that. But I promise you that I’ll never forget you. Won’t leave you behind. I can be that guy for you, Mckenna. I can be your friend better than a fake boyfriend. Let me.”

I roll my lips together, touched by the sincerity in his tone. The backs of my eyelids burn, and the desire to cry, to press my face against his shirt and sob, rises within me.

I push it down, scrubbing my hands over my eyes.

This isn’t like me. I’m not a cry-on-a-man’s-shoulder woman. But Mav’s frank assessment of my life, his heartfelt concern, broke something inside me. I haven’t let anyone in in such a long time, not truly.

And for some strange reason, I believe Maverick Tate.

I shouldn’t give him an inch and yet…I want to. I want a friend that’s here, present. Someone I can truly count on. It’s dangerous and still, I yearn for it.

He’ll never be the man of my dreams, but he would make a decent friend. If I let him in, he’ll be here. He won’t leave me behind.

Hell, he’ll probably make me laugh more than anything else.

I pull in an inhale, hold it for several beats, and exhale. My heartbeat thrums in my temples, and I scrape my teeth along my lower lip.

Mav watches me, his eyes pleading, his expression etched with concern more than anything else.

Concern for him? Or worry for me? Maybe a combination of both.

I hold his gaze, steady eyes that don’t blink.

“Okay,” I agree. “Yes.”

He doesn’t smile or whoop with glee the way I would expect.

He doesn’t shout my response to his team or crack a joke.

Instead, he holds out his arms. Opens them for me.Again. But this time, he wants me to go to him. To enter whatever the hell this is on my own terms.

I hold his gaze as I step into his embrace.

Mav wraps me in a hug that is warm and comforting. He holds me like he knows the parts of my soul I don’t share. Like he understands them,me, intimately.

I press my face against his chest and inhale, and he squeezes me tighter.

“We’ll be okay, Mckenna.”

“Yeah,” I agree. And I believe it. Him.