Page 71 of Resilient Rhythms
“You okay?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe as she closes the lid to the toilet.
She drags the back of her hand across her mouth and meets my gaze.
Her eyes are midnight as she nods. “I’m fine.”
I sigh, knowing she’s not fine but not wanting to press her on it either.
“Want some tea?”
She rises unsteadily and I reach out, grasping her under one arm to keep her knees from knocking. I keep a hand on her whileshe brushes her teeth, fixes her ponytail, and meets my gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
We stand like that—me slightly behind her, Mckenna gripping the underside of the vanity’s ledge, our eyes holding—for a long moment.
Until dread snakes through my veins and fear drips down my spine. “What’s wrong?” I whisper.
Mckenna bites her bottom lip and I pull in a breath, mentally preparing for the worst while physically keeping my expression neutral.
“We need to talk,” Mckenna says.
Fuck.
My nostrils flare as I drop my head.
She wants me to move out. Bran hurt her more than I know. She can’t create a future with me right now.
My mind spins at the speed of light.
Mckenna turns in front of me, resting her back against the vanity. She cups my cheeks in her palms and lifts my face until our eyes meet.
“I love you, Maverick.” Her voice is resolute. Unwavering.
My hands find her hips and my fingertips grip at the soft cotton of her sleep shorts. God, I don’t want to let her go. I wish I could stay connected to her forever. “Is it enough?”
“Can we relocate to the kitchen? Or living room?” Mckenna glances down to where our toes touch and smiles. “I don’t want to have this conversation in the bathroom.”
What conversation?I want to scream.But smiling is a good sign, right?
Instead, I sigh. “Okay. Of course.”
I help her down the stairs and settle her into a corner of the couch.
“Does this conversation call for tea?” I try again, wanting to make sure her stomach is settled. Wanting to delay thisconversation nearly as much as I want to know what the hell it’s about.
But I know it’s about to flip my world upside down.
Fuck. I can’t lose Mckenna.
I don’t wait for Mckenna to reply before I busy myself in the kitchen, putting on the kettle. My head continues to whir.
Does she want to move to California? Or New York?
Did she get a job offer that requires a permanent move or frequent travel?
A job offer would be great. It would certainly bolster her confidence.
Is this about Bran? Or us? Or her?
“Shit!” I hiss as I burn myself with scalding fucking water.
