Fly With Me | ✓

15

"No, I—" Everleigh started to protest.

"Yesterday? Well—" Maverick stumbled over his words. Classic. "This morning, really. You sounded... upset."

"I didn't call you."

"I'd rather not listen to the message again, but I promise you did."

Everleigh swallowed hard. "No, I didn't, I called—" Everleigh looked at Maverick, his expression looked guilty for listening to it in the first place. "I thought I called Juno."

"You did start the message with that," Maverick said. "I was a little confused."

"No, no, no." Everleigh walked over to her bed and grabbed her phone, madly scrambling to her phone app and seeing that she had, in fact, dialled Kingston and not Juno. She needed to put last names in her contacts. That wouldn't have happened if she had. Dumbass. "I'm so sorry. That wasn't for you."

"I figured." Everleigh heard Maverick swing the bar back on the door, lock the handle before he walked into the hotel room. "But if I was the only person you called, I figured you really needed someone."

"I..." Everleigh stared at him for a moment.

His curls were still wet from the stage lights, earpiece draped over his shoulders, a jacket thrown on over top of stage clothes. She could've melted into the floor with the expression on his face. A little crease between his eyebrows. Eyes shining with enough concern that Everleigh probably could've spilled everything to him in the longest sentence known to man. He hadn't even put his glasses on after the show. His hands shifted in his pockets like he was itching to reach out to her but knew she was the type to not want that.

Everleigh got up from her seat on the bed. Maybe she was the type that day. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her hand in his hair. Yup, a little sweaty. Everleigh didn't care. She held him a little tighter despite the wet hair.

Maverick's arms were hesitant when they wrapped around her waist. Like he wasn't sure she was going to tell him to get off. Not him, not today, not that night. Everleigh had the feeling he wouldn't be the one to pull away, either.

Everleigh kissed his cheek without really thinking about it. Tried to not let that panic overtake her when she eventually pulled away—Maverick looked about the same. Good. They weren't going to mention it. Exactly what Everleigh wanted. "Thank you."

"Everleigh..." Maverick started. His hand went up to her cheek, thumb gently wiping away tears. Lord, Everleigh still had those to spare, huh? She couldn't look at him when tears formed in his eyes too. Emotional fucker. "Can I ask what happened? I don't want to sound like an ass, but... but you look tired. And you called at, like, three in the morning... And one plus one..."

"You don't sound like an ass," Everleigh said. "I am tired."

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

Everleigh was a little too aware of the way that Maverick's hand had stayed on her cheek. And the hand that wasn't on her cheek still rested along her waist. Everleigh kept her hands on his shoulders, for once in her life enjoying the closeness.

"I..." Everleigh frowned. "Do you have a concert tomorrow? I don't want to—"

"Everleigh Meadowlark." Maverick's voice was gentle enough Everleigh wanted to assure him she wouldn't shatter if he brought himself above a whisper. "I cancelled tomorrow. You scared the living shit out of me. I thought you were about to... jump off the Golden Gate or something."