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“You have an uncanny ability to blame yourself for things that are out of your control.”
“But —” I try to argue.
“No buts. We will figure this out. Together.”
I nod and look up at Cal. He’s hunched over, looking like a sad puppy.
“Please stop hiding things for me. Especially things like this where my safety is at risk.” It’s the closest thing to an olive branch Cal is going to get from me. The smile that spreads across his face tells me he knows that.
“I promise!” he says quickly and way too loudly. My dad and I both flinch at the volume.
“So, you’re with Malikai now?” My dad asks, not so smoothly changing the subject.
“I am.” I can feel the blush creeping up my neck. Talking to your dad about your relationships never gets easier. Luckily, he’s a lot easier to talk to than my mom.
“I always knew you two would find your way,” he says.
My jaw drops for a moment before Ismile. He knew. Of course, he knew. My dad was always the most preceptive person I know.
“Am I the only one that didn’t know?” I ask, more to myself, but Cal’s snort is answer enough.
“I’m going to go order lunch,” Cal says, hopping up to grab his phone from the coffee table.
“How long are you staying?” I ask my dad.
“I’m staying as long as you need me, my beauty. My bags are already in one of the guest rooms upstairs. I’m sure as hell not leaving when my daughter is being stalked.”
I throw my arms around his shoulders and squeeze. I missed him so much. Cal always made fun of me for being a daddy’s girl, but in this moment, I couldn’t care less.
thirty-seven
KAI
“Fuck,”I mutter under my breath as I let myself into Maverick’s house. It’s the usual mess, but something stinks.
“Mav?” I shout. I have to dodge dirty clothes and empty pizza boxes before I find him on the couch.
He’s staring out into space, clutching a picture frame. I can see dried tracks on his face from where tears have fallen. His white shirt has food stains on it, and he’s not wearing any pants, just black boxer briefs.
“Mav?” I try again, gently. I’m pretty sure the smell that’s assaulting my nostrils is coming from him. His bloodshot eyes find mine, and there’s nothing but misery in them.
“You should go,” he says, his voice like gravel. He probably hasn’t used it since the last time I saw him.
“You know that won’t work,” I tell him, moving the empty beer bottles from next to him and taking a seat. “What’s that?” I ask, gesturing to the frame he’s clutching with my chin. He looks down, seeming to register that he’s even holding something, then hands it to me.
My heart drops into my stomach when I see the picture.It’s of Mav and Ezra when they were in college. My brother’s face is smiling happily at me while Maverick is kissing his cheek.
“I’ve never seen this picture before,” I say, my voice hoarse from trying to contain my emotions.
“It was at the top of my closet. I hid it.” There are no emotions in his words, and that concerns me more than anything.
“Is Ezra why you get like this? When we’re not on tour, I mean.” I’ve been dancing around Mav’s depression for years because I know he snaps out of it the moment we leave. But I don’t know how long we’ll be home this time, and I just can’t risk it anymore. I need the truth from him, but I’m afraid he’ll shut down. It’s like trying to play the gameOperationwhile wearing oven mitts and a blindfold.
Maverick sighs and leans his head back to rest on the couch cushion. “Partially,” he admits. I have to lock my muscles up to prevent myself from jerking upright at his honesty. Usually he just tells me he’s fine and then won’t talk.
“What’s the other part?” I ask softly.
Mav turns his head to look at me, like he’s taking my measure and deciding if I’m worthy of the truth.
