Fly With Me | ✓

21

Maverick looked like he'd been crying. Everleigh wanted to cry. A deadly combination any day of the week, but especially when they had a little too much to talk about and Everleigh was already exhausted. Maverick was likely exhausted, too. Wherever he'd come from was likely in America, in which the closest time zone to London was five hours behind. It was likely his body thought it was six o'clock. Was that terrible jetlag or perfect jetlag?

Was Everleigh insane for thinking about jetlag at a time like this?

All she could manage at that point was, "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long." Maverick pushed himself up from the floor where he'd had his back against her door. How he even got in was a mystery she didn't want answered. Probably snuck in behind one of the old ladies in the building. He straightened his jacket; the zip-up hoodie Everleigh had stolen from him in Las Vegas. Brushing off the ass of his jeans, fiddling with his hands until he settled on stuffing them in his hoodie pockets.

"All day," one of her neighbours replied, walking past them with a laundry basket. Casual one in the morning laundry. Everleigh was pretty sure they dealt drugs out of their flat, anyway, it kind of fit. Maybe the sale was in the laundry room. Solid. Nice. Wonderful.

"Thank you!" Everleigh called after them. The least she could do, but also a terrific way to stall her talk with Maverick. A win-win.

"All day." Maverick shrugged. Looking a little guiltier than he needed to. Especially for someone who had, quite literally, enlisted her father to pick him up from the airport. That was worse than sitting outside somewhere he'd slept in a bed. In her mind, at least. She didn't even want to ask him if Troy had dropped him off at her flat, too.

"It just doesn't stop with you, does it?" Everleigh dug through her bag and tried to find her keys, rolling her eyes when she realized they were around her finger. Her brain didn't like to work when it went straight from zero to 100.

"Everleigh." Maverick's voice was pleading. Urgent. She supposed it would be considering he'd spent almost 13 hours out there. By himself.

Everleigh pulled at the keys, trying to find the one for her flat. Who needed that many keys when she barely spent time at home—who needed more than three keys in their life? "Hope you've booked a hostel, because you're not staying here."

"I did," Maverick said.

Everleigh unlocked her door when she finally found her key, leaving it open as she stepped through despite her best judgement. Kicking her shoes off at the door, she left them less than neat and definitely not in the shoe rack. She dropped her things on her tiny dining room table, running a hand through her hair that desperately needed to be washed. Checking over her shoulder as she looked for a bottle of juice in her fridge, Everleigh sighed as she saw Maverick standing in the doorway. "Don't let the fucking draft in."

"You..." Maverick snapped his fingers and clapped his hands. "You haven't said I can come in."

"Are you a vampire?" Everleigh stood up, juice in hand, and waved him in after she closed the fridge door. "What do you want?"

"You know I want to talk." Maverick stepped forward, closing the door behind him. He slid off his shoes, too.

Everleigh couldn't stop herself before she said, "Why? Want to tell me Rhylan's favourite flower too? I can get her a nice little bouquet when I go for your mum and sister. Who you're so insistent I meet."