Page 17 of Resilient Rhythms
Mav’s eyes flare as he finishes his coffee. He sets the mug down with a thud. “What are you saying, Mckenna?”
I let out a shaky exhale, unsure of myself. Our conversation has gone in circles. A part of me wants Mav to want me back and another part doesn’t want to jump into something we’re not ready for. But I know that I want him in my life. “I’m saying that right now, I’m in Boston.”
He nods, tilting his head as if considering something. Then, he looks right at me. “Mckenna Byrne, will you have dinner with me Friday night?”
I bite my bottom lip to halt the smile that wants to cut across my face. Butterflies ascend from my stomach up into my throat, making me feel both nostalgic and emotional. “I’d love to.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“I’ll be ready.”
Mav reaches across the island and places a hand on mine. “I didn’t expect this. I wasn’t sure how seeing you would be. I wasn’t sure if you would even speak to me again. But I’m happy we’re here.”
I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip, my throat dry. “Me too. More than you know.”
He winks cheekily. “Trust me, beauty, I know.” Then, he stands from the barstool and walks around to my side, leaning down to kiss my cheek.
My eyelids drop shut as I breathe him in. Clean soap, pure sunshine, all Mav.
God, I missed this. I missed him.
But most of all, I missed the version of myself with him. The one who dove below waterfalls and sang karaoke. The woman who knew that if I fell apart, I had someone in my corner to catchme. The brave, honest, sincere version who didn’t cower or run away.
His kiss lingers on my cheek as he pulls back and I turn my head to face him. “Friday night.”
He grins. “At eight.” He walks backwards toward the front door to the brownstone. This time, when he turns and looks around the space, his expression is clear from shadows.
“Thanks for the coffee, beauty.” Mav opens the front door.
“Thanks for coming by.”
He chuckles. “Oh, you’ll be seeing me.”
The door closes and he’s gone.
I sit for a long minute, staring at the shut door as I try to make sense of his words.
Does he mean here in Boston? Does he mean Friday night?
Or does Maverick Tate have other ideas that I’m not yet privy to?
Ideas I have no business hoping for as much as I already am.
FIVE
MAV
Alfred flashesme a thumbs-up as I walk in front of the Escalade toward the brownstone. I laugh, amused by his excitement over my date with Mckenna. Drew, my bodyguard, already scoped out the restaurant and gave his approval. He also seemed delighted by this unexpected turn of events.
I haven’t shared my date with Jameson or the guys in the band yet. It’s too soon to hope. Nothing has happened. And so, save for Alfred and Drew who are part of the logistics of my life, and my mom, who is over the moon but can keep a secret, no one else knows.
I ascend the stairs to the front door and knock. It feels strange, standing on my own doorstep and waiting to be let in. And yet, it also feels right, knowing that Mckenna is on the other side of the door.
She pulls it wide open and my breath stutters in my throat. Because, my God, is she a vision.
I can’t believe I once called this womanwife. Even if it wasn’t real the way I hoped, it still filled me with pride.
Mckenna’s long auburn hair is loose, curling over her shoulders, the ends dusting across her breasts. Her navy eyes are big and deep, bottomless. She’s effortlessly chic. Always.
