Page 117 of Just a Little White Lie

The idea of Maverick baking in the kitchen makes my lips twitch. I open the box and take a sniff. “Smells good.”

“Carrot and pineapple with cream cheese frosting.”

“I’m impressed.”

The edge of his mouth twitches. “Sully makes me bake when I’m restless.”

I scoop a little frosting off with my finger and taste it. “Lucky me, then. Does it work?”

“A little. I guess it gets me talking or whatever.” His blazer hitches as he does another shrug.

Always with the bravado.

I watch him twitch and shuffle on his feet.

“How mad was he?”

“Not mad.” Maverick swallows like he’s fighting the urge to throw up. “Disappointed.”

“So much worse, right?”

He blinks like he’s surprised I get it, then miserably slumps to the floor. He crosses his long legs and looks like a giraffe who can’t get comfortable. Splaying a hand over the back of his head, he shakes it and starts muttering, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know.” I smile at him, but he’s not looking up. It’s like he can’t handle facing what he did. Even though I’ve covered it up, he knows there’s a black eye under my layers of makeup. “Mav, it was an accident. You weren’t aiming for me. You couldn’t see anything. You were like a wild dog.”

“I hate that I get like that.” He sniffs. “I don’t know how to stop it.”

Pity or maybe affection or maybe a mix of both swirls through me, and I can’t avoid my part in this fiasco.

“I’m sorry that I made you dance in front of everyone when you weren’t ready. I thought it’d be the pick-me-up you all needed. A total confidence booster. But I failed.”

“You didn’t.” He looks up, his brown eyes filled with remorse. “You were just trying to encourage us. I screwed up. I…” He huffs. “I…” He tries and fails a few more times before balling his hand into a fist. His face is desperate with helpless frustration before he dips his head and hides it from me.

“How bad was your time in Auckland?” I gently ask.

He shrugs.

“Come on. I need to understand this. Throw me a bone here.”

After a heavy sigh, he rubs the top of his head and mumbles, “Mum and Dad were at it. I think me being there brings out the worst in them. I don’t know. They just… Full-on fistfights, you know? She’s just as bad as him. They go at each other like they’re trying to kill. I yell at them to stop, but they won’t listen. If I get in the middle to break them up, it just gets worse. All I can do is wait for the alcohol to wear off.” His voice starts to shake. “I was desperate to get back here, but also not, you know?” He glances up at me, and I smile, encouraging him to say more.

His lips bunch like he wants to tell me but can’t.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, resting my elbows on my knees and gazing down at him.

He huffs. “As soon as Ronan saw me yesterday morning, he was pecking away. Making me feel like shit. I tried so hard not to lose it. I need to keep it together, but then Arlo got up in my face, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.” His voice trembles, breaking over the words and making them hard to hear.

But I get the gist.

“Arlo will forgive you.”

“He already has,” he mumbles.

“I forgive you too.”

He looks up, his eyes round with disbelief.

I smile at him. “I do. I mean, I’m kind of surprised that I’ve felt zero anger toward you. You elbowed me in the face, dude!” I try to make my tone light and comical.

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