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."

"I... I do know it."

Everleigh glared at him.

"That's not the point. Um... We... should talk. About after the concert." He scratched at the back of his neck. It was an obvious answer, but it needed to be said. What else would they have had to talk about?

"Feel like you deserve that?" Everleigh asked, unscrewing the cap of her juice and taking a long sip.

"Not really."

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Everleigh said. "Finally."

"Everleigh, I'm sorry."

"Can I talk and you listen?"

Maverick stood up a little straighter. "Yes."

"I don't know what the hell you said to Stevie, but whatever it was, I hope you apologized to her before you flew here," Everleigh said. "Because she deserves it a lot more than I deserve having you beg at my fuckin' door."

Maverick nodded. "I—well, we talked while you were working."

"It better have been a good apology. If she didn't forgive you, you need to leave."

He nodded again. "We're good."

"Are you lying to me again?"

"No."

"Can I ask you a question?" Everleigh asked. Gripping the cap of her juice a little tighter than she meant to. Her flat was bigger than the room at the clinic, but it suddenly felt a thousand times more suffocating with the door closed.

"Yes."

"Is Rhylan the reason you brought Donny up every fucking chance you got?"

"What? No," Maverick said. Eyes widening slightly. Expression softening; both in realization and in genuine sorrow. "I was teasing you. I wasn't trying to—"

"Teasing me or feeling guilty that you were still fucking—" Everleigh wished her voice hadn't broken. She took a shaky sip of juice if only to give her a second to recuperate. After screwing the cap back on, she placed the bottle on the counter and pointed a finger at Maverick. "You know, you never made me feel like I was second place until that concert. And it's worse that I feel like I can't even be mad at you."

"You can be mad at me." Maverick's voice was quiet. Low. Like he wasn't sure he was allowed to speak. Or assure her of emotions.

"You're not my boyfriend..." Everleigh was half talking to herself and half continuing to talk to Maverick. Walking toward her room while she mumbled probably didn't help her case. She threw a hand into the air. "Why do I give a damn who you decide to sleep with, anyway?"

"I..." Maverick paused for a moment. His voice closer to Everleigh than she thought it would be after walking away. "I want to be."

"I've had a long day," Everleigh said, turning on her heel. Every word from his mouth went in one ear and out the other. Nothing registered properly. "I need you to leave, Maverick."

"Why are you calling me Maverick?"

If Maverick kept giving her that lost puppy look, Everleigh was either going to slap him or kiss him. She wasn't sure which she wanted to do more.

Everleigh swallowed hard. A stoic calmness rushing over her; brain shutting down exactly like it had in New York. "Because the thought of saying your first name makes me sick after I heard her say it. Because you said the word love in your... fuckin' song and then stuck your tongue down someone else's throat like I didn't matter to you. I spent that entire night and all these nights that followed wondering what the fuck I did to not be good enough for you. I don't think you deserve for me to call you by any name other than the one you've requested from friends."

"You're mad." Maverick held his hands up while he spoke like he was getting ready to brace himself for impact.

"Oh, am I?"

"And I get it."

"Well done." Everleigh clapped her hands for him while she stepped inside her bedroom. "Gold stars."

"But I just—"

"Turn around."

"What?"

"You've followed me into my room and I'm not wearing scrubs any longer than I have to," Everleigh said. "Turn around if you're so insistent on talking and don't face the mirror."

Maverick sighed but turned around. Hands still in the pockets of his hoodie.

Everleigh waited a moment. Stuck her middle finger up at him to see if there was a reaction.

"My eyes are closed so if you're doing something, I can't see it, Everleigh."

Everleigh narrowed her eyes.

"I promise."

Overwhelmed by the feeling of scrubs more than she was at the potential for Maverick to see her undressing, Everleigh pulled her pants off and quickly threw on a pair of pyjama shorts. It was one in the morning, anyway. "What do you have to say that's not enough to make me want to vomit?"

It was inconspicuous enough for a comment. But the truth of the matter was that there had been cake and ice cream for her and her classmates and Everleigh didn't want to seem rude, but her brain was frying itself and Maverick's presence was not helping any.

"I want to tell you that she doesn't mean anything to me," Maverick said.

"Except you've already told me that she does," Everleigh said. "In Vegas."

"I mean," Maverick said. "Can I try this again?"

"Floor's yours." Everleigh crossed her arms.

"Rhy will always be a part of my dating history. And it's going to be a big part," Maverick said. "But after New York... I want you to know that she's out of my life. For good. Because of... you."

"You can't possibly think I'm mad at you because you have had previous girlfriends."

"I... Okay. I'm going to go. This isn't getting anywhere." Maverick stuck his hands in his pockets. "I am sorry, Everleigh. That's not how I wanted that night to go."

"Let yourself out." Everleigh swatted her hand in his direction despite his back being turned.

"Bye, Everleigh."

"Goodbye, Maverick."

When Everleigh was mad, simple tasks like changing out of her shirt were like Olympic level acrobatics. They ended with Everleigh standing in a sports bra, panting, having thrown her shirt on the ground after finally wrestling it off. It wasn't close to the laundry basket, and it wasn't likely to become close to her laundry basket until she got some fucking sleep.

"Fucking... fuck..." Everleigh muttered. "What the—"

Everleigh stood a little straighter. Did he say—

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Everleigh tore a flannel off a hanger. Threw it over her shoulders as she ran out of her bedroom. She stepped into a pair of terrible wellies that, paired with her pyjama shorts and flannel, really had her ready for Paris Fashion Week. Grabbed her keys from her bag and slammed the door behind her. The elevator was too slow, always had been, so Everleigh ran down the stairs. Did the buttons of her flannel up as she ran. Skipped a couple stairs and nearly stumbled down them, but kept herself upright because she needed to know. The wellies weren't helping her run any faster. She should've grabbed sneakers.

Barrelling out the fire door, Everleigh looked around. Maverick had clearly taken the elevator, because he was barely on the sidewalk by the time she spotted him. The rain wet Everleigh's hair down as she jogged after him.

When she was close enough to him, only a couple steps behind, she yelled, "Did you say you wanted to be?" Hands on her knees, Everleigh was a little too doubled over for not that long of a jog. Her breath disappeared into the raindrops pelting down in front of her.

Maverick turned, confused. Looked around with an eyebrow raised. Curls pressed to his forehead in the London rain. A hand raised and turned his hearing aid up a bit. The poor lighting from the streetlamp still highlighted him like a painter had taken his best features and put them on display for Everleigh. "Pardon?"

"Ugh—boyfriend," Everleigh stumbled. The word felt foreign enough that she felt more like a teenager than the grown woman she argued with her father that she was. Which she still was. Obviously. Maverick had taught her well in the ways of not knowing what the fuck to say when she needed to use her words the most. She put her hands on her hips and stood up a little straighter, still trying to catch her breath. "Did you say you wanted to be mine?"

A smile fought for enough room on Maverick's face. The first time she'd seen him smile since the concert. (Get a fucking grip, Everleigh.) "You just got that?"

Everleigh brushed her bangs from her face. Wet strands between her fingers. "Why didn't you say that before?"

"Can I talk for a minute before you chew my head off?"

"I'll count it," Everleigh said. "Don't think I won't."

"You're so fucking stubborn," Maverick said with a scoff. "You know that?"

"Yes." Everleigh crossed her arms.

"From the moment I met you, I wanted to be with you and you just pushed back and back and now you're upset with me that I kissed someone who wasn't you—"

"I'm not mad you kissed someone else," Everleigh said. Because he was absolutely right and she was stubborn as fuck. "I'm mad because it was after everything. You dropped an entire fuckin' six song EP that made me feel cared about and it was the cheapest gesture ever when you put it out after New York. And now I'm going to have to go home and tell the people I love, who love you, and say yeah, he wasn't who I thought he was. And I get to watch them be disappointed in me again. I've been trying to figure out since that night how to lessen the blow. You've made it hard, I hope you're happy."

"For the record, your dad told me that if I couldn't get you to stop being mad at me, he was blocking my number," Maverick said. "And Roman didn't even reply to my text."

Score one for Roman.

"At least one of them has their priorities straight."

"Damn it, Everleigh. I would've kissed you if you hadn't fucking cut me off in the car!" Maverick yelled. Clearly Everleigh had reached under his skin. Good, level playing field. "You make things a thousand times more difficult than they need to be and you don't even realize it."

Everleigh took a step back. A puddle soaking through her sneakers. "I admitted I was stubborn."

"You're even stubborn when I'm trying to tell you something!"

"That's what stubborn is, Maverick!"

"God, stop calling me that!" Maverick's hands flew through the air in a tired frustration. He'd probably been up for over 24 hour at that point. Everleigh was almost willing to offer him her couch.

Almost. "It's your name!"

"Not to you!"

Maverick was drenched. Curls practically straight, Everleigh wanted to brush them off her forehead. She wanted to drag him back into her flat so she could yell at him more when he was less sopping wet. Probably make him a cup of tea. Maybe he'd get sugar in it, or milk. Definitely lend him one of the hoodies that used to be Troy's but she'd stolen. Everleigh had shorts he could wear. Blankets to wrap him in.

Rain in London was cold and chilling and Everleigh's nose was probably red and Maverick's hoodie was probably heavy on his shoulders. She could feel the goosebumps prickling at her legs; rain drops cruising down her skin like she was a car window. It would've been a hell of a lot easier to have this conversation in her flat, but like Maverick had said, Everleigh was too stubborn for her own good.

Everleigh bit her bottom lip for a moment. "Why didn't you say any of this before that sodding fucking circus of a night?"

"I tried to," Maverick said. Voice low. No more screaming and fighting. "In your car. After Trivial Pursuit. Except you were drunk and shut me out anyway, Everleigh."

"Don't put this on me."

"I don't want to be just friends," Maverick said. "I never did."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"Will you let me talk?"

"Go ahead."

"It was unnecessary to kiss her, I know that," Maverick said. "But seeing you again... after the car—which I'm not blaming you for... I was confused. The whole night. Because I was going to perform that song and you were going to be there... And—And she showed up and I panicked, and I went back to her because she's what I've known for most of my life. It's a stupid reason and I know that, but that's the truth, Everleigh."

"If you want to be with her—"

"For fuck's sake, Everleigh—"

"What?" Everleigh clutched the sides of her flannel, pulling it closer to her. Not that it was going to make her any warmer.

Maverick ran his hands through his hair. "How many times do I have to say that I want to be with you, Everleigh? Only you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes!"

"Then fucking kiss me," Everleigh said, "Kingston."

"Stubborn."

"I admitted that—"

Maverick put his hands on Everleigh's cheek and shut her up. As he should've. Everleigh ducked her head a little, meeting his lips with hers. Wrapped her arms around him as he pulled her closer.

Rain drops pounded down, slapping the pavement around them. Drenching Everleigh and Maverick. She could barely feel them over every part of Maverick pressed against her. His hand found his way to the back of her hair while the other traced the small of her back. (She tried not to lose herself in the thought that her tattoo was right there.) (Paper Planes had her going feral.)

Maverick pulled away slightly. "Are you shivering?"

"No." Yes. Flannel was a terrible cold weather shirt. Obviously it was cold.

"Stop being stubborn."

"It's a character flaw."

Maverick kissed Everleigh again. A little softer. A little less needy. A little more hey this is neat. "You should go back inside. You're freezing."

"You're not coming with me?"

"Thought I would go back to my hotel room—" Maverick started. Cheeky fucking grin on his face as raindrops pelted him like he was a rose caught in a storm.

"Don't be daft." Everleigh was getting a little too used to soft little kisses between sentences. "Come on, you'll catch a chill."

Maverick took a step back from her. Let a glance pass over her. His eyes widened. "Everleigh, you wore shorts out here?"

"I wanted to catch up with you."

"Gross, almost like you have feelings or something."

"Shut up, Kingston."

"I have never been happier to hear you say that."

"Disgusting," Everleigh said. "Honestly."

Maverick tossed his head back and laughed. The raindrops and streetlamp working harmoniously to light him up in a way that made Everleigh's heart skip a beat.

Everleigh wrinkled his nose at him. "I'm going inside. Nasty ass."

"You call everyone nasty ass after you've kissed them?"

Everleigh took his hand and dragged him with her as she walked toward the building. "Only for you, darling."

"Wow, darling?" Maverick put his other hand to his chest. "I feel so special."

"Would you prefer plonker?"

"From you, I'll take what I can get."

"Revolting," Everleigh said. "Christ. Too much affection."

"Noted."

"I didn't say stop."

Maverick laughed as Everleigh pulled her keys out of her pocket. "Terrible. Just terrible."

"Better get used to it."

"Whatever you say, Meadowlark."

            "Don't make me send you to a hostel, Kingston."

Maverick pressed his head between her shoulder blades, letting out a low laugh. "Yes, ma'am."