Chapter Fifteen

I wouldn't call myself a party person. So when I step into a house buzzing with music, laughter, and flashing lights, it's obvious I'm here on a mission.

Beside me, Emalyn adjusts the halo headband tangled in her curls. Her glittery eyeliner sparkles beneath the strobe lights, but her posture is tense. She scans the crowd with a forced smile.

I lean close. "Are we here to have fun, or for revenge?"

She raises her plastic cup. "Why not both?"

Before I can respond, a guy with tousled hair and a Cupid costume stumbles over, grinning far too wide. "Can I get you ladies a drink?"

"We're good, thanks," I say quickly, nudging Emalyn's elbow before she can answer.

As he retreats, Emalyn gives me a sideways look. "I know what you're doing."

I blink, feigning innocence. "What?"

"You've been screening every guy who walks near me. You don't have to babysit me."

"I wasn't—"

"You were." She sighs. "But it's fine. I get it. You care."

I press my lips together. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to prove anything. Not to him, or anyone else."

She looks away, chewing her cheek. "I thought hooking up with someone would make me feel better. It didn't. Just made me feel lonelier."

There's a rawness in her voice that catches me off guard.

"I think I want to be alone for a bit," she adds. "Not in a sad way. Just... figure myself out. Without someone else's hands all over me."

My chest warms. "That's actually really brave."

Emalyn exhales. "Don't tell Maverick. He'll make some big speech and ruin the moment."

I laugh. "Your secret's safe with me."

She squeezes my hand. "Go. Find your guy. I've got this."

"You sure?"

She nods. "This is my night to start over."

I linger for a moment, watching her rejoin a small group of classmates she knows from her psych elective. There's something different about the way she stands—still Emalyn, still sparkling—but steadier somehow.

I slip out the front door, the cool night air kissing my skin as I make the walk to Maverick's bar.

The place is closed, but a soft glow shines through the windows. I knock lightly. Seconds later, the door creaks open and Maverick appears in the frame, drying a glass with a bar towel.

His brow furrows. "You okay?"

"I needed to see you."

That's all it takes. He steps aside without a word, lets me in, and locks the door behind us.

The bar is silent except for the faint hum of the fridge. I hop up onto one of the stools, watching him as he finishes tidying.

"You left the party early," he says, voice low.

I nod. "Emalyn didn't want me hovering. She's figuring stuff out and had other friends there."

He leans against the bar, hands resting on the counter.  "That's a first."

"She encouraged me to go and be with my mystery man."

Maverick rounds the bar slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. When he reaches me, his hands rest lightly on my thighs. He doesn't kiss me right away—he stands there, breathing me in like he needs a moment to believe I'm real.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs.

"It's the wings." I smile. "Very flattering."

His laugh is soft, and then his lips find mine. Our kiss isn't urgent. It's not about distraction or lust. It's something slower, something that makes my heart ache.

When we pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine. "You staying?"

"If that's okay?" I ask, a hint of vulnerability lingering in my voice.

I'm probably blurring the lines by asking to stay, but I can't help but want to be close to him.

"You don't have to ask."

Once Maverick's finished locking up, we head upstairs. 

"There are t-shirts in the dresser if you want to change, or fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to shower," he says. 

"Thank you."

I open a couple of drawers before I find a pile of black t-shirts neatly folded. There's a few empty drawers, some only half full. There is so much space.

"Can you help me with the corset?" I ask, sweeping my curls over my shoulder.

Maverick's warm breath sweeps over my neck, sending shivers down my spine. As he undoes the laces, his fingers subtly brush against my skin. Once he's finished, Mav jolts back and looks away.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before." I sigh with a roll to my eyes. 

"You're drunk, and I'm a gentleman now."

"If you insist." 

I allow the corset to fall to my feet before slowly sliding the t-shirt over my head and down my torso. I dive onto the bed and snuggle into one of the plush pillows. He joins me and pulls me onto his chest like he's afraid I'll disappear.

"Goodnight, Willow," he mumbles into my hair. 

"See you in the morning," I reply with a yawn.

Silence stretches between us, comfortable and charged.

I bury my face in the curve of his neck, heart hammering in my chest, and let myself believe—for one night—that maybe this isn't all going to fall apart.