Clinical, while exhausting, was the first time that Everleigh felt like she knew what she was doing and she was good at it. Her first couple shifts in London were chaotic in the best way possible. She filled in at a geriatric residency that day for a classmate who couldn't make it due to illness—codeword for I'm fucking hungover please save me, which had Everleigh drop off a bottle of Advil and make sure she was okay before going to her ten hour shift.

            Geriatrics was fun. A woman fought Everleigh about whether she should put her dentures in or not. A nurse who had been there longer than her said that was pretty standard for that resident. Everleigh counted her blessings that she didn't get bitten by a set of gums.

            Everleigh was off at around four. The perfect time for her to visit her parents and mooch off them for dinner because she was too tired to even go into a drive thru. And she'd already chowed down on the chocolate from Maverick. (He was a day off.) (It was annoying.)

            The drive from the geriatric residency was closer to her parent's house than it was hers. And, as it happened, Everleigh had the weekend off. Seemed like the perfect time to sleep in her old bedroom and crash the entire weekend to recuperate. Dawn would love it; Troy would call her annoying, but secretly enjoy it. If she stayed there, she might convince herself she was worthy of any dinner she was served.

            Usually if Everleigh came to visit her parents after a flight, she would change out of her uniform. But going to her flat to get something to change into was a lot of effort when Troy owned an abundance of hoodies and Florence was a pack rat who left her clothes there all the time. All Everleigh kept was underwear and, maybe, a set of pyjamas.

            Everleigh parked her car in the driveway and got out, leaving any textbooks in her backseat so she could not think about them for the foreseeable future. She walked up to the porch, knocking gently on the door.

            It shouldn't have surprised her that Troy opened it and buried her in a hug. But what did surprise her was how fast he pulled away. "You smell like old people."

            "Thanks, pa."

            Troy grinned. "I'm so happy you're here."

            "Even though I smell like old people?"

            "Even though you smell like old people." Troy stepped out of the way of the door. "Have you met Navi in person yet?"

            "We video call."

            "You video call with the baby?"

            "With Flo, Pa."

            "I knew that."

            "Uh huh." Everleigh laughed and walked past him. "Mum! I'm here!"

            Footsteps got closer as Dawn came around the corner. She also buried Everleigh in a hug. "Oh my gosh, hiya! How was clinical?"

            "Tiring. But good."

            "Good, good."

            "Leigh come meet Navster, I don't care if you're tired, I am too!" Undeniably Roman.

            Everleigh walked into the living room once Dawn let go of her. "Hey, fucker—"

            "Everleigh." Dawn and Florence were a little to alike in many aspects and chiding her for swearing was one of them. Everleigh didn't dare venture a glance at Troy, who she could already hear hiding a laugh behind his hand.

            "I was talking to Roman, not Navi, it's fine."

            "It's not fine." Florence sat on the floor with Navi in her arms, Roman rubbing her shoulders as he sat on the couch.

            "I apologize for being a potty mouth."

            A couple of stomping footsteps made Everleigh turn where Troy had been and a good honk of a wheeze only a father could muster came from around the corner. A loud snort followed. Real stealth. Nobody would ever know it was Troy. Everleigh didn't get her snort from him. Not at all.

            Florence rolled her eyes. "Gonna come hold your niece?"

            Everleigh walked over and sat next to Roman on the couch. Florence carefully turned and placed Navi in her arms. Though every part of Everleigh fought the urge to say the word crotch goblin purely to piss Florence off, but looking at her niece genuinely made her smile.

            "Hiya," Everleigh said softly. "I'm your aunt. Make Everleigh your first word and you can have your first drink with me."

            "Everleigh," Florence chided.

            "Just kidding. You'll do that whether you say Everleigh or not—"

            "Quit it," Florence said.

            "Leigh."

            "Yeah?"

            "Why do you smell like—" Roman started.

            "God, I was in geriatrics today, can we stop talking about how I smell like old people, please?" Everleigh gently handed Navi over to Roman. "I'm showering and changing."

            "Bring your A-brain," Troy said, once he'd rejoined them in the living room. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "We're playing Trivial Pursuit before supper and you're on Navi's team."

            "I get the baby?"

            "Mainly 'cause you've almost got two degrees and combined we maybe have that many," Roman said. "So, yeah, you get the baby on your team."

            "You're all wankers," Everleigh said. "But I'll be back. And I'm going to win."

            "Sure you are, Leigh," Troy said.

            "You either get the entertainment or arts slice, you never get them both," Florence said, "you always blow it."

            They had a revamped edition of the original that was a few years old. It was anyone's game and they knew it.

            "Navster's got my back." Everleigh pointed at her niece in Roman's arms. "We're winning this, kid. You just wait."

            With that, Everleigh walked upstairs. Took a shower. Towel dried herself, and threw on one of Troy's t-shirts (she only found it slightly embarrassing he owned a shirt that was one thousand percent gay fanart of Spider-Man and Deadpool, the other part of her thought it was incredible), Florence's leggings, and a pair of her socks, too. Although she couldn't imagine she'd taken that long, Roman was already trash-talking her from the first floor; stating that if she was too scared to play, she could simply say so.

            Everleigh took that as a challenge to beat him even more than she wanted to before her shower. She came back down the stairs, ready for vengeance. If she had anything to do with it, Roman and Florence wouldn't be getting a single pie piece before Everleigh was finished. Then again, it was all up to chance. Everleigh wasn't above cheating the questions in Trivial Pursuit. She did it all the time as a snot-nosed little shit.

            "You're fucki—"

            "Everleigh Jane."

            "You're so on, Rome. Like icing on a cake."

            Roman grinned. "I'm gonna beat you to the ground."

            "Your baby's gonna be so embarrassed she came from you—"

            "Oh-kay," Troy said. "You know this is... standard edition Trivial Pursuit, right? You're not on Jeopardy."

            "I'd beat him in Jeopardy too."

            "You would not—"

            "Teams are as usual!" Dawn said, interrupting the trash talk before it could come out again. Roman and Everleigh laughed—this was normal, too.

            "You know," Roman said, "you stray from the usual, and Leigh and I would kill all of you."

            "Damn right," Everleigh said, high-fiving Roman.

            "Too bad Roman's on my team," Florence said.

            "I've got the Navster. She's half him," Everleigh said.

            "At least your mum and I have history down," Troy said.

            Dawn laughed. "Thanks, Troy. Really selling our team."

            "I'm being truthful, dear." Troy kissed the side of Dawn's head. "Are we ready to go?"

            "Ready to kick Leigh's ass—"

            "Language, Roman," Florence said.

            Roman held his hand up in surrender as he stood up. "You have a choice, Leigh."

            "For?"

            "You can have your teammate in your arms or in her bassinet," Roman said. "Up to you."

            "Bassinet, absolutely," Everleigh said. "Easier to throw my arms up in celebration when we beat all of you."

            Roman laughed and gently placed his daughter down, moving the bassinet carefully to where Everleigh took a seat on the floor. She knew she was simply babysitting for them while the game was on, but she didn't really mind. Fighting a woman over dentures made her slightly more empathetic to a baby who hadn't cried yet in the time she'd been there.

            Everyone took their seat around the board, Everleigh with a free hand gently rocking Navi's bassinet. Troy went first. Came with the fact that he always, simply, grabbed the die and rolled. Nobody ever protested.

            The question they landed on was history. Everleigh read a card to them, simply based on where they were seated. It was about ancient Mesopotamia, something they knew relatively nothing about.

            They continued with Everleigh, who landed on a science question. Roman read the card to her, and before he'd finished Everleigh knew the answer. Easy as pie. Everleigh rolled again, landing on a pie piece for arts and literature.

            She might not've liked it, but Florence was right. Unless it was a shot in the dark, Everleigh had never gotten both the arts and entertainment slices on her own. It's why she tried to get them out of the way as quickly as she possibly could. Science and geography? A breeze. Everleigh was good with those. History and sports, she could usually guess her way through. For entertainment, she never got the movie questions, and when she did, it was ones like what she had now.

            "Which actor's critically acclaimed debut performance," Roman started, Everleigh groaned, "happened in 2000's spring blockbuster Daydream Believer, when he was just fourteen?"

            "I wasn't even six yet—"

            "Choke," Florence said.

            "Give me a second." Everleigh had never been more thankful they didn't play with timers when she played alone. Which was every time they played.

            A knock at the door made Everleigh's eyes widen. Saved by the... pizza man? Whoever it was, Everleigh hoped it was someone older than her who possessed in depth knowledge of 2000's films and could earn her that pie piece.

            "I'll get it."

            Roman snapped his fingers. "I reserve the right to hold your phone until you come back. No Letterboxd."

            Everleigh rolled her eyes and tossed her phone at him as she got up. "All yours."

            Walking over to the door, Everleigh swung it open. And slammed it shut because, surely, she was hallucinating. Everleigh peeked the door open again. Nope. Not hallucinating.

            "Kingston?"

            Maverick waved a hand. "Hi."

            Everleigh's eyes widened.

            "Everything okay, Leigh?" Troy asked.

            "Fine," Everleigh said. She stepped out the door and closed it behind her after she made sure it was still unlocked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

            "I, um—" Maverick held something up. Everleigh squinted her eyes. It was dark outside and the porch light was terrible, but Everleigh was almost certain she could make out her copy of the first Witcher prequel. "This was fantastic."

            "You flew all the way to London to tell me you enjoyed The Last Wish?"

            "I... yeah," Maverick said.

            "You have my copies of Season of Storms and Sword of Destiny."

            "I really felt like I needed to see you," Maverick said. "I dunno. I just... I finished. And... and bought a plane ticket."

            "Are you okay?" Everleigh looked around.

            Maverick nodded. "I have one night to yell about this Witcher book to you, Meadowlark, I'm not wasting it."

            "How did you know I was here?"

            "'Cause I have a copy annotated by a dork who wrote in the front cover, If found, please return to Everleigh Jane Meadowlark and put her full address."

            Everleigh blushed. "I put a lot of work into annotating them."

            "I can tell." Maverick smiled.

            "I do have to—just—" Everleigh waved a finger around. "You know I don't live here, right?"

            "Your book—"

            "Was annotated when I was seventeen." Everleigh smiled. Her voice closer to a whisper when she spoke again. "This is my—"

            "Hi!"

            Oh God. Do not.

            "Um, hi," Maverick said.

            "I'm Troy." Troy didn't waste his time passing Everleigh on the porch and extending his hand toward Maverick. "Is it Kingston or Maverick?"

            Maverick shook Troy's hand. From what Everleigh could tell, it looked sturdy enough. A small slither of nervous laughter escaped Maverick's lips. "Um. Kingston. Is fine. Sir."

            Troy laughed. "Would've introduced myself as sir if I wanted that. Please, call me Troy."

            "Troy."

            "Nice to finally meet you, Kingston."

            "Nice to meet you too."

            Everleigh coughed into her fist pointedly. A not-so-stealthy sign she wanted Troy to leave Maverick alone and let him leave.

            "You in town for the night?" Troy asked. Whether he didn't understand the signal or elected to ignore it remained to be seen. "Want to come in?"

            "Pa—"

            "We're playing Trivial Pursuit. Leigh needs a partner who's been alive more than a couple weeks."

            "I could... yes." Maverick nodded. "I can play Trivial Pursuit. Only if it's okay with everyone, I don't want to... um, intrude."

            "It's absolutely fine," Troy answered before Everleigh could tell him to run. "Supper's on the way. Loser's pay for it. I'm throwing the kettle on for tea."

            Maverick nodded. "Yes sir—Troy."

            Troy walked back inside with a pointed look at Everleigh that warned her not to send Maverick running. Which she did with most men who tried to visit her at her parents' house, truth be told. Troy left the door cracked open a sliver after he retreated inside.

            "So this is your parents' house." Maverick waved his finger around like Everleigh had.

            "Yup."

            "I can go. I didn't know—"

            "You know he'll disown me if I don't come back inside with you, right?"

            Maverick fought a small smile. "I like him."

            "You won't when he starts trash-talking you about trivia." Everleigh stepped out of the way of the door and motioned with her arms for Maverick to go inside.

            Maverick smiled softly. "I—um—I also brought..." He pulled a bottle from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to her as he stepped forward. "Here."

            "What's—oh my God." Everleigh recognized the label immediately.

            "I know you said you'd kill the next man who bought you food," Maverick said, "but consider this a thanks for lending me your books gift. Thought I remembered it being your favourite."

            A bottle of sparkling raspberry lemonade from Greggs. Kingston Maverick was definitely going to be the death of Everleigh.

            "It is. Thank you." Everleigh looked around. "You, um, my family's fuckin' bonkers. I need to warn you."

            "Relax, Meadowlark," Maverick said. "I've done the meet the parents thing before. It's going to be fine."

            "Is that why you said sir?"

            Maverick bumped Everleigh with his shoulder. "I'll be on my game. I promise."

            "You can leave any time."

            "Come on, Meadowlark. We have Trivial Pursuit and pizza to win. I'm not leaving until we see it through."

            "You're sure?"

            "I'm phenomenal at arts and entertainment," Maverick said. "Let's fucking do this."

            Everleigh smiled. A little too wide. A little too long. A little too hopeful. There was something to say that she didn't feel incomplete most of the time. And then Maverick went and existed—the missing pie pieces in her stupid Trivial Pursuit token—and suddenly, Everleigh felt a little too much like the kind of person she'd never want to be at the start of a trainwreck horror movie. Young, happy, in love.

            Get over it, Everleigh. Christ.

            "I—uh—wait."

            "Yes?"

            "Is your mother in there?"

            "My mother is in her house, yes."

            "I don't have anything to give her."

            "You don't have to have something to give her."

            "I could go get flowers."

            "God, you'll make her fall in love with you if you do that," Everleigh said. She walked behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I promise, it's fine. But we need to go inside before Pa comes back out with an embarrassing photo album or something because I took too long with you."

            "I'd enjoy—"

            "Nope." Everleigh pushed him gently toward the door. Maverick laughed as he eventually walked on his own.

            "You know, when you meet my mother," Maverick said, like it was casual, "she likes roses."

            Everleigh kept a neutral expression on her face—subtract the raised eyebrow. "Noted."

            "My sister likes lilies."

            "Kingston, get in the house."

            Maverick laughed again, stepping through the threshold and taking his shoes off at the door. Everleigh silently thanked whoever made Maverick crash land into her life that at least he didn't get himself killed by her mother for wearing his shoes in the house. They made their way to the living room, met with a little too much screaming and a lot more excitement than if Everleigh had walked in alone. Nice.

            "Hi, I'm—"

            "Kingston, lovely to meet you!" Dawn walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. Not the first impression Everleigh would've made on anyone, but she was not her mother. "Thank you for joining us. I'm Dawn. You can call me that, you can call me Ms. Meadowlark, you can call me mum—"

            "Mum," Everleigh snapped.

            Dawn pulled away and tapped Maverick's shoulder. "Don't call me late for dinner."

            "Please stop."

            "Nice to meet you, Dawn."

            "I'm Roman, this is Navi." Roman offered his hand to Maverick and quickly pointed to the bassinet. He shook a little wildly and for too long. "Would you like to come to my wedding?"

            "Huh?"

            "I'm Florence, you can call me Flo."

            "Um, hi—"

            "Can you let him breathe?" Everleigh steered Maverick away from the onslaught of relatives who were far too excited that there was a boy over to see her. She wasn't fourteen, for fuck's sake. She sat him down next to Navi's bassinet and sat on his other side before Roman could—the man would talk his ear off.

            "Kingston, you look cold," Dawn said.

            "Um, I'm actually ok—"

            Roman cleared his throat. Making a quick slicing motion at his throat. When Maverick looked to Everleigh, she gave him a small head tilt. Roman was right.

            "Freezing, Dawn," Maverick said. "Definitely colder here than San Francisco."

            "I have a cardigan you'll love."

            Troy covered his mouth and poorly muffled a snort as Dawn rushed to a closet in the front hall. No fucking way he was right. No fucking way.

            As Dawn's footsteps came back a little closer, she started talking again. "I know it's not quite Valentine's Day yet, and you'll have to forgive me if the size is wrong—"

            "God, Mum, let's not—"

            "Ohoho, let's," Troy said.

            Everleigh glared at him. Troy mouthed pisswizard at her and flipped her off quickly before Dawn walked back into the room.

            Everleigh muttered a soft, "Kingston, I'm so sorry."

            "Roman, I promise yours is different, so don't worry about spoilers."

            Roman gave her a strained smile. "Thanks, mum."

            Dawn held up a cardigan by the shoulders.

            The ugliest fucking cardigan Everleigh had ever seen. And she'd seen Roman wear some nasty ones. It was pink—and not, like, a good pastel pink, more like expired bubble gum—and argyle, but the centre of the diamonds were some gawdy red hearts.

            "Mum, where did you even find that?" Florence asked. The horror in her voice was evident; she'd seen Roman go through this too many times—at least she was dating Roman.

            "I never tell."

            Everleigh ventured a look to Maverick without turning her head. He managed a brave expression in the face of sudden danger. Something about it read that he knew he was stuck wearing that... travesty for the rest of the night. It was sure to go with his ripped jeans and striped button up, that was for sure. God almighty.

            "Thank you so much," Maverick said, taking the cardigan and sliding it over his shoulders. "This is... incredible."

            When Everleigh looked at Troy, her intention was to get him to turn the heat up and save Maverick from his misery. Instead, Troy looked at her with the widest grin she'd ever seen from him—elated and marvelling and definitely thriving off how disgusting that cardigan was.

            Sorry, Mav, you're stuck.

            "You look wonderful."

            "Thank you, Dawn."

            "Okay, phew—" Florence blew out a loud breath. "Now that Kingston's... um, comfortable... may we continue?"

            "Believe it was Everleigh's turn," Roman said, catching on quickly. "Um—" He ran his hands across the table, trying to find the card. Even if it wasn't the right one, Everleigh had the feeling the card he picked up was going to have to suffice. "Here it is, um, which actor's critically acclaimed debut performance happened in 2000's Daydream Believer, when he was just fourteen?"

            Maverick gaped at Everleigh—who was far too distracted by the way he was sitting to notice most of the judgement. (Who gave Maverick the right to lean back and keep his arm so close to her waist she could feel the heat coming off him?) "You needed my help for this?"

            Everleigh ran a hand on her forehead. "I had a ten hour shift, I need you to cut me some slack."

            "Miles Fox," Maverick answered. "Final answer. Amazing movie."

            "Holy shit," Roman said.

            "Roman."

            "He fudgin' got it, Flo—"

            "On the board!" Maverick raised his hand and Everleigh high-fived it.

            Everleigh grinned at Roman. "You're so dead."

            "Lucky guess. Roll."

            Everleigh looked at Maverick, who said with a small smile, "All yours, Meadowlark."

            She picked the die up and rolled it. Moving their token, Everleigh landed on a sports and leisure question. Which truly could've gone either way.

            "Which driver won the British Grand Prix in 2015?" Roman slammed the card on the table. "Don't even have to look at the answer, this is easy."

            "It is?" Maverick asked.

            Roman's eyes lit up. "Neither of you know?"

            "I don't have time to watch F1, Rome."

            Maverick snorted. "I barely know what the British Grand Prix is in the first place."

            "Can I say Bash?"

            "Bash?" Roman said. "Are you talking about Brendon Ellis?"

            Everleigh's mouth twitched. "Only if I'm right."

            "You're not."

            "I don't know, Roman."

            "Idris flippin' Johnson," Roman said. "Ain't got nothing on Bash now, maybe. But—" Roman whistled. "That 2015 win was a beauty."

            Everleigh bit back the urge to say that she'd met Brendon at the MARS concert. She'd save that for a rainy day when she was feeling less nice. And, possibly, she'd pay him to make a video saying hi to Roman for his wedding.

            "He's a nice guy," Maverick said, less nice than Everleigh was feeling. The smile on his face said he enjoyed the way Roman's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

            "You know him?"

            "Friend of a friend is my friend," Maverick said.

            "Holy shit."

            "Everleigh met him, too."

            "No way."

            "Better be nice to me or I won't put in a good word," Everleigh said.

            Roman mimed zipping his mouth shut.

            "When did you meet a Formula One driver?" Florence asked.

            "At the MARS concert you forgot to buy me tickets for."
             "Okay," Troy said. "Settle."

            The rest of the night was stunning. Roman shut the fuck up for fear of missing his chance to even say hi to Brendon. Maverick and Everleigh dominated Trivial Pursuit—their knowledge fit together like held hands, fingers fit between the gaps. Roman and Florence only had two pieces by the time Everleigh and Maverick were done. Troy ended up paying for their dinner when it arrived due to an ill-timed "Inception?" when everyone else in the room knew the answer was Shutter Island.

            Eventually, after going into pizza comas, Dawn went to bed—not before insisting Maverick keep the cardigan and giving him a hug far too big to have just met him—and Florence took Navi upstairs to put her down. Which meant that Troy, Roman, Maverick, and Everleigh had the chance to go outside and drink. A perfect end to a great night, really.

            "My boy," Troy said, "I cannot believe you wore that all night."

            Maverick looked down and laugh. "Dawn looked excited about it."

            "She's always excited," Roman said.

            "And her cardigans are always ghastly." Everleigh snorted as she took a sip of her cider.

            "That's the real winner," Roman said. "I've never had to wear one that bad and I'm marrying into the family."

            "You're part of the family." Troy threw an arm around Roman. "For whatever that's worth."

            "Does that mean I don't have to wear any more cardigans?"

            "Might be free from it since Kingston's gone and made such a good impression."

            "Oh, good." Maverick laughed.

            "Welcome to the family," Roman said.

            Everleigh didn't want to admit it was nippy outside, because she knew what came next. But the cold bit at her arms quicker, quicker, quicker, and before she could excuse herself to get a housecoat, Roman noticed.

            "Cold, Leigh?"

            "Real gentleman would offer his new cardigan to the cold woman," Troy said, pointing to Everleigh with his Guiness can.

            "Do not."

            "Please do." Roman laughed. "Kicked our asses at Trivial Pursuit, deserves some kind of payback."

            "Oh, if I have to." Maverick slid his arms out of the cardigan, placing it over Everleigh's shoulders. She would never admit out loud that the warmth was unmatched. "Here you go."

            "Isn't she cute?" Roman teased.

            "Absolutely," Maverick said.

            "Could pinch her cheeks," Troy said.

            "You pinch my cheek, I'll dump my cider on you."

            Troy snorted. "Better not."

            "Not above it," Everleigh said. "I've seen a master at work."

            Maverick choked on his drink—something fruity from Troy's stash that wasn't alcoholic, as per his request.

            "What the hell does that mean?" Troy laughed.

            "Nothing," Maverick said.

            "I don't even want to know," Roman said.

            Maverick laughed his way through a yawn. "Christ."

            "Tired, son?"

            "When did you leave San Francisco?" God, Everleigh was heartless. She hadn't even asked in the first place.

            "I left at... night. And now it's night again. And I haven't slept."

            "And you're headed back tomorrow?"

            "Sometime in the morning. Yes, sir."

            "What did I say about that?"

            "Troy. Sorry."

            "Do you have a hotel for the night?" Everleigh asked.

            "It was... an impulsive decision to come here."

            Everleigh rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her cider. "Okay, yeah, you're coming with me. You can sleep at my flat."

            "Quick," Roman mumbled into the lip of his can.

            Everleigh flipped him off as Troy laughed.

            "Kingston," Troy said.

            "Yes?"

            "You haven't been drinking."

            "No."

            "Drive Leigh and you home and text me when you're there?"

            "Dad, you don't even know how to text," Roman said.

            "Shut it, Roman."

            "I can do that... Troy." Maverick pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up a new contact. "Here."

            Troy stared at the phone for a moment. Looked at Roman, who rolled his eyes. Roman took Maverick's phone and punched Troy's number in for him. Took a terrible photo for his trouble. Handed Maverick his phone back.

            "Thanks."

            "I put my number there too. In case you need it."

            Maverick smiled. "Got you."

            "Tell me if you can make it to my wedding."

            "I will."

            "Roman, you're not getting free entertainment."

            "It's a genuine invite, Leigh," Roman said. "Unless you want to, Mav."

            "I'll keep that in mind."

            "You're awake enough to drive, or do you want me to drive you home?" Troy asked.

            "You've been drinking too, pa," Everleigh said.

            "Shit, you're right."

            Roman laughed.

            "I've got it. Thank you for inviting me to join you guys today," Maverick said. "It was fun."

            "We'll have you again soon."

            "Absolutely," Maverick said.

            "Whether Leigh's here or not."

            "Hey."

            Troy wrapped an arm around her and kissed the side of her head. "Drive safe. Good night." He offered a hand to Maverick, who shook it steadily. "Kingston."

            Everleigh gave Roman a fist pound before handing her car keys to Maverick. "You have your license, right?"

            "Everleigh Meadowlark, I'm three months older than you."

            Everleigh raised an eyebrow at him.

            Maverick snatched the keys. "Yes, I have a license."

            "Have you driven a right hand drive before?"

            "I know how to drive a car, Everleigh."

            Troy grinned. "Good night, kids."

            "Good night, pa."

            "Good night, Leigh," Troy said. "Good night, Kingston."

            "Good night, Troy. Roman."

            "Night."

            Everleigh must've drank more cider than she realized, because the short walk from the front lawn to her car had her swaying and Maverick walking her to the passenger seat with her arm wrapped around his shoulder and his arm around her waist.

            "Come on, Meadowlark," Maverick said. "Easy does."

            Maverick helped her sit down as Everleigh let out a bubbly hiccup of laughter.

            Maverick stood with his hands on his hips for a moment. "Show me you can do your seatbelt up."

            "Piece of shit car like this? Seatbelt hardly matters."

            Maverick looked up for a moment, turned around.

            "Everleigh!" Troy called. "Put your damn seatbelt on!"

            Maverick looked back at Everleigh pointedly.

            "Snitch." Everleigh tried her best. It took a couple tries before she finally got it and pulled it snug.

            "There we go." Maverick tapped the roof of the car a couple times before he closed her door for her. He walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat. Rolled the window down as he backed out of the driveway. After putting the car back in drive, Maverick gave a wave to Troy and Roman, still drinking on the front lawn.

            After driving a little ways down the street, Maverick looked at Everleigh. "I know you're tipsy, but I don't know where you live."

            Everleigh gave him a lazy point forward. "Turn left at the stop sign. I'll lead you from there."

            Maverick followed directions well. Waited a little while before sneaking a look at Everleigh. Guilty as charged, he caught her looking at him too. She'd never noticed the treble clef tattoo behind his ear before. "Can I just say... I fucking love your family."

            "They're a lot."

            "They're amazing."

            "What's the real reason you came here, Kingston? I know it wasn't Witcher."

            "It could be Witcher."

            "Was it?"

            "I wanted to make sure you were okay." Maverick looked back at the road. "Is that terrible?"

            "No." Everleigh giggled. "Kind of dorky, though."

            "I'll take dorky."

            "Right at the next light."

            "Yes, ma'am."

            "You don't have to worry about me."

            "Flew all the way to London for you to tell me not to care?" Maverick blew a raspberry at her. "Not buying it."

            Everleigh stared at Maverick in silence for a little longer than she meant to. But the way the flashes of streetlight illuminated him every so often—dancing glimmers of the freckles across his nose and the sunshine in his eyes—was entirely too distracting. "Thank you."

            Maverick smiled. "Can I come back for the next family game night? We kicked ass."

            "Hell yeah we did," Everleigh said. "No one can say a damn word to me any more. I'm keeping you around."

            "You are?" As Maverick pulled to a stop light, he looked at her. "Really?"

            Everleigh wrinkled her nose at him. "Got me to admit it. I like having you around."

            Maverick's eyes lit up even more, despite having not moved under a streetlight. "Everleigh Meadowlark, I—"

            Nope. Happening too fast. Everleigh turned as a car honked from behind them.

            Everleigh pulled the cardigan that smelt a little too much like Maverick's cologne a little tighter around her. The whole car smelt like Maverick's cologne. (Orange blossom, thyme, and musk.) (God, Everleigh needed to get a fucking grip.) "Green light, Kingston."

*

[a.n.] Idris and Brendon are, of course, Steph's characters. All credit for these phenomenal humans go to her. Thank her for letting me use them. <3