Page 42 of Never Give Up

MAYA

Coming here,to Brian’s, has taken more of my energy and courage than I will ever admit to another living soul.

But I work with him, with all the people I can hear in the backyard. And showing them, showing Brian, showing myself that I can do this is more important than my fear.

The nerves that thrum through my veins, raising my heart rate until I’m ready to gag are just that, nerves. Working past them, forcing every step through the yard and to the back of the house is the first of many things I need to do in order to take control.

Even if I’d prefer not being here at all.

Or here, just under different circumstances.

I’m about to sit down when a gasp and shocked growl stops me, leaving me hovering over a camp chair.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I close my eyes. Brian. Of course. I breathe in, count slowly to three, then open my eyes and look up.

“I’m sitting down.” I stare at the hard look on Brian’s face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Major surgery, you know. I’m a little exhausted.”

“And you cooked?”

“Helping, pitching in always means food, Brian. It’s what I do. And it’s something I’ve always done to make myself feel better. That’s my love language. You’re not my mother or father or anything, really. So you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Not that you’d be able to tell her what to do anyway.” Poppy chortles, almost choking on a drink while she interrupts.

For a second my heart races, and I’m pretty sure Brian’s about to kick me out. Until he releases his breath and drops his arms to his sides. “No, I… But you should be resting, not this.”

I hate him. I want him. I want to both see him and forget he exists, which would be completely impossible.

Now he’s standing here practically yelling at me, and all I can think about is the way he’s pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and I can’t help wondering if he’s worried about me. Or just worried that I’m gonna tell him how I feel again.

“Sitting down? I thought that was considered resting.” I force myself into a smooth façade of calm to cover the chaos coursing through my body. “Or is that not allowed in Brian’s Big Book of Rules?”

“You know damn well I’m talking about all that food.” He points back to the house.

“Oh, that was nothing.” I smile and shrug. “You know me. I’ll make enough to feed an army without batting an eyelash.”

“Maya—”

“Don’t let a lobster bite you on the ass. It’s just a thank-you to everyone for being there for me. And I knew all you’d do was feed them pizza.” I pointedly look at the empty pizza boxes lying on the ground.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Please.” He doesn’t wait for my answer but instead gently grabs my hand and lifts me up and away from the crowd of people who are staring at us openly.

Paul clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck with one hand, and lifts a beer to his lips with the other. “Brian. Remember, she’s hurt.”

“I’m just gonna talk to her,” he says. “Nothing else.”

Anger slices through me, replacing the moment of bliss that comes with the contact between our bodies. Of course nothing else.

I don’t want anything else.

Do I?

Who am I kidding? Of course I want more. I’ll always want more where he’s concerned. It’s just the fact that I can’t have him that annoys me.

But a talk is a good idea. One away from everyone else. A chance to clear the air for work.

Brian guides me into the garage, holding my hand until we cross the threshold. I stand there, feeling like an idiot, while he closes the door and takes his time turning back around. During those few seconds, I spend my time looking around at the empty space surrounding his cruiser. It’s extremely organized, with a push mower lined up next to the tool bench. All the tools they had used for the tree house lie scattered on the bench, but everything else is put away.

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