Page 94 of Just a Little White Lie

By the time Maverick saunters through, his protective pride firmly in place, we have the dining room to ourselves, and I’m grateful for it.

“Hey, Mav.”

“You’re here to kick me off the crew, aren’t you?”

“No.” I smile, happy I can give him that answer.

He blinks in surprise.

“Take a seat.” I point to the chair opposite me, and we settle in.

Maverick slouches back in his chair, his chin jutting out, while I rest my forearms on the table and thread my fingers together.

“Mrs. Kwan wants you out.”

He scoffs, working his jaw to the side.

“She’s worried. And after your display yesterday, I guess I can understand it.”

Maverick’s black eyebrows dip into a sharp frown, but I raise my hand before he can say anything.

“I know you were provoked. I saw what happened. You were standing up for Alexia, yourself, the whole crew. I admire you for it. But punching him in the face wasn’t the answer.”

“What the hell was I supposed to do? The guy’s like a freaking virus. He just won’t leave me alone.”

“Have you told anyone that?”

His expression darkens, and he hunches in on himself. “They all think it’s my fault. They think I’m trying to throw blame onto him.”

“Well, I don’t.” I shrug. “And I told Mrs. Kwan in no uncertain terms that I need you on this crew. Your friends look up to you. They trust you, and I don’t think we can pull this off without ya.”

His tough veneer disintegrates, replaced with a surprised, vulnerable confusion that cracks my heart wide open.

I keep going, desperate to make myself abundantly clear. “I know what it’s like to have people make assumptions about you. I’ve spent so much of my adult life screwing up.” I shake my head. “My parents aren’t talking to me right now, my brother thinks I’m all but useless… and I know what you guys thought of me when I first started here.” I fidget with my drop earring, skimming my fingers down the fine gold. “It’s not the same, but I’m guessing it’s similar to how you sometimes feel. You just want someone to believe the best in you, you know? You want to prove that they don’t know you as well as they think and that you have something good to offer.” I reach across the table and tap my hand on the wood. “Mav, you do. You are such a talented dancer. You’re dynamic and you’re fun, and your friends are so loyal to you.” I nod when he frowns and shakes his head.

I’m laying it on too thick, but I don’t care. I need him to believe what I’m saying, because it’s the truth.

“I want you on this team.” My voice is firm with conviction. “But I can’t keep you there if you’re gonna throw punches around. I know you were provoked, but yesterday, you should have walked away. Be the bigger man. Ronan doesn’t deserve your time or attention. You played right into his hands. Don’t give him that satisfaction again.”

Maverick leans forward with a sigh, resting his elbows on the table and cradling his head. “He makes me see red. I can’t control it. I just get so mad sometimes. This rage…” He taps his chest. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Have you been to counseling? They might be able to give you some good strategies.”

He sits back with a heavy sigh. “Counseling’s for the weak.”

“Actually, I think it’s for the wise. Or the brave. It takes courage to talk about your feelings.”

His jaw works to the side, and he lets out this brittle laugh. “Guess I’m too much like my old man.”

The comment curdles my stomach. “You don’t have to be. That’s a choice.”

His eyes dart to mine, and I drill him with a hard look to match.

Taking my time, I pronounce each word clearly. “That. Is. Your. Choice.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe me.

I lick my lips, then bite them together. How do I make him understand?

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