Maverick staying one night had turned into a week and a half. Which, in turn, was a week and a half where they ignored that Everleigh was going to have to go back to her airline work the day after.

In that time, Everleigh had learned that Maverick could cook—no lost fingers yet—and that he'd made several trips down to the Tesco while she was at school because "Christ almighty, Everleigh, why don't you have any groceries?" Right. Because that was a conversation she still had to have with him. But there really wasn't an easy way to say hey, I hate myself and eating is hard almost every moment I'm awake. Instead, she managed a small, "I don't have the time" and waved him off before he could make any other comments.

"Everleigh?" A small knock at her bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Everleigh buttoned up her shirt.

"Breakfast is ready."

Everleigh walked over to her phone, checking the time. It wasn't that she didn't want to have breakfast with Maverick. It was that she'd been having breakfast with Maverick all week and that today made her feel like she was going to throw up, and not because of the food.

"Kingston, I might have to skip out on breakfast today."

"Are you sure?"

"I feel like I'm going to puke. Yes, I'm sure."

"Are you actually sick or nervous?"

Everleigh wasn't ready to say both. "Nervous."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"My entire academic career has built up to this one moment and it's not even graduation," Everleigh said. "I actually might be sick if I talk about it more."

"If you think you're not going to graduate, you're nuts."

"You're saying that without knowing anything about my grades."

"Are you on the honour roll?"

"The Dean's list—" Everleigh frowned at the door. "That's not the point."

"That's exactly the point." Maverick's voice was a little farther away from the door, evidently he'd gone back to minding whatever breakfast he'd made. His favourite that week had been an omelette with as many vegetables as he could fit into a basket. (She really could get used to him staying if he did all the grocery shopping and she didn't have to stand in the stores worrying about what the labels said.) (Maybe that could be how she approached the topic.)

"No, it's not."

"Only you would be a straight A student and be worried your school isn't going to let you graduate."

Everleigh flung her bedroom door open, tucking her phone into her waistband. "It's called anxiety, Kingston."

"I'm aware." Maverick looked up at her from the stove. "Everleigh, you haven't changed your pants."

Everleigh looked down. Cheetah print shorts stared back at her, definitely not the dressy trousers she'd thought she'd already put on. "For fuck's sake—"

"You're definitely eating breakfast if you're this scattered already." Maverick picked up two plates from the counter. "Sit."

"I brushed my teeth—"

"Please?" Maverick asked. "Your appointment isn't for another two and a half hours."

"What if they have time earlier?"

"Someone else who doesn't have an appointment will take it." Maverick placed the plates down—he'd made breakfast tacos, which looked fantastic, if Everleigh was being honest—and pulled a chair out for her. Far too comfortable in his surroundings after only a week. (Everleigh enjoyed his comfort.) (But would not say that out loud.) Everleigh sighed and sat down, taking a deep breath. She made the slightest motion to pick up a taco when Maverick yelled a rapid, "Wait."

"What?"

"You're wearing white—um—here—" Maverick pulled the collar of his shirt over his head. Beatles. Not as vintage as some of his other ones. Still a little too old for Everleigh to be spilling salsa on.

"I can wear my own—"

"This one's already here—" Maverick held his shirt in Everleigh's direction. "Here."

Everleigh took the shirt. "Thank you."

Maverick snapped his fingers. "I forgot drinks."

Everleigh's phone vibrated at her waist as she pulled the shirt on. Pulling it from the top of her shorts, she didn't think much about answering the video call. "Yes, Roman?"

"Advice on refusal to eat?" Roman looked like he'd spent the entire night up, so Everleigh would forgive him for asking a question with which the answer seemed obvious to her.

"Change the food. Put it on a different plate," Everleigh said. "Check to make sure nothing else is affecting her—hair around the toe, something like that. She's not that old but you could check if there are any teeth coming in already. Before four months is rare, but not unheard of."

"How do you know all this shit?"

"Almost like she studied it," Maverick mumbled under his breath, walking behind Everleigh before taking a seat across from her. He placed two bottles of juice on the table.

"Um. Excuse me, Everleigh," Roman said, "something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Hmm?" Everleigh took a gigantic bite of taco to keep from speaking any more.

"I don't think I'm mistaken that that was a shirtless Maverick insulting me," Roman said.

Maverick's eyes widened. A mouthful of breakfast taco as well.

Everleigh chewed and swallowed her bite before talking. "I wouldn't say you were wrong."

"Bro," Roman said, "you need to tell me when I'm allowed to talk to people again."

Everleigh covered her face. "You're good."

Maverick laughed softly. Probably at how fucking red Everleigh's face was; the heat she felt was a dead giveaway.

"Does this mean he can come to the wedding?"

Everleigh peeked through her fingers at Maverick, who shrugged.

"When is it?" Maverick asked.

"November 15th."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"He'll probably be late," Everleigh said.

Maverick tried not to laugh. "Dude."

"It was right there."

"Did you just call your... Leigh dude?" Roman asked.

Maverick smiled in a way that made Everleigh's heart skip a beat. He looked at the back of Everleigh's phone. "I did just call my Everleigh dude."

Everleigh fought the small smile that pulled at her lips. Instead, she opted for a mocking, wrinkled nose look that half-mocked Maverick. "Corny."

Maverick shook his head and laughed into a bite of his breakfast. Using one hand to flip Everleigh off. Everleigh returned the favour with a small laugh.

"Are you flipping each other off behind the camera?"

"No," Everleigh said.

"I would never," Maverick said, making a fist and miming a crank at the side with his other fist, his middle finger a Jack in the box toward Everleigh. A satisfied smirk on his face, he took one of the bottles of juice in his hand, cracking it open.

"I don't even know—" Everleigh looked at the waistband of her shorts, pretending there was a pocket in it. She put her hand down to her hip before pulling out her middle finger, shock dressing her face. "—what a middle finger means, Roman."

Maverick nearly spat his juice out on her, but contained it with the bottle.

"Weird as fuck," Roman said.

"No idea what you're talking about."

"Clearly, we're normal," Maverick said. He pressed his thumb to his mouth, blowing up his middle finger like it was a balloon.

"Very mature," Everleigh said as she adjusted the way she held her phone, middle finger facing Maverick. A laugh erupted from the other side of the table. "Honestly, Kingston. I'm so sorry, Roman, I need to teach him some manners."

"Everleigh?"

"Yes?"

"You're full of shit."

"Language, Roman."

"Maverick?" Roman asked.

"Yes?"

"Upset her again and I'm upsetting your face."

Maverick nodded, despite Roman being unable to see him. "Yes, sir."

"And I will snitch to dad."

"Got it."

"Leigh?"

"Yes, Roman?"

Roman held a middle finger up at her and ended the video call. Everleigh laughed and placed her phone on the table. A text came through quickly: Kidding. Love you. Happy for you. Another text: Not kidding that I'll literally hit him with my car if he upsets you again. <3

"That was easy," Maverick said.

"Roman says he's going to hit you with his car if you upset me."

"Noted," Maverick said, "but at least he knows now. That was what was easy."

"Ah, yes, let's have you walk around with no shirt on when we tell my parents," Everleigh said. "That'll go well."

"As long as you walk around in no pants when I tell my mom—"

Everleigh picked up a piece of diced bell pepper and threw it at Maverick. "I should make you pay rent for that one."

Maverick laughed. "I made you breakfast."

"Wow, my own personal live-in chef," Everleigh said. "I've really made it, huh?"

Maverick ate another bite of his breakfast. "Better not tell anyone you sleep in the same bed as your chef."

"My chef sleeps in my bed," Everleigh said. "I lived here first."

"Fair enough."

"My chef needs to get a worker's visa. Before he gets deported."

"That's... actually a genuine problem, huh?"

"Not the worker's thing, but, yeah, probably." Everleigh bit into one of the breakfast tacos. Savouring the pico de gallo, cheese, scrambled eggs, avocado, hot sauce, and what Everleigh was pretty sure was plant-based sausage. Even the corn tortilla was a good distraction to thinking about how this was all going to have to end at some point when Maverick was forced to go home. When she swallowed her bite, stalling long enough, Everleigh asked the question she'd been dreading. "How long did you tell border security you'd be here?"

Maverick was going to have to go home, that was for certain. Likely questioned about what he did while he was there. Especially when all he'd managed to do in London was book a hostel that he promptly cancelled without actually staying in the room.

"Told them it would be a week, maybe two."

"And they let you in?"

Maverick shrugged. "I can't officially say whether one of the security guys had a daughter who liked my music. Can't officially say I took photos with him and signed a couple things. Can't officially say I told him I was trying to win back a girl and he thought that was romantically stupid."

"A little."

"But it worked, so... maybe UK borders will take pity on me."

"It's unlikely." Everleigh looked up at Maverick from her breakfast. "We practically ran our own royalty out of the country for a relationship, Kingston."

"Well... shit." Maverick frowned and finished one of his tacos. "I'm fucked."

"You could go and come back. But I fly to Thailand tomorrow. Then Los Angeles. Tokyo's in there too. And that's between studying for finals."

Maverick bit his lip. "We'll make it work."

"I'm going to put the kettle on." Everleigh stood up from her seat.

"Everleigh, please don't avoid this—"

"I'm not avoiding, I'm... procrastinating."

"Procrastinating the conversation or procrastinating eating your breakfast?"

"What a good question, and I would say the answer is..." Everleigh walked to the kitchen and took her kettle off the counter. "Do you like green or black tea?"

Maverick stood up, walked beside her, reached in the cupboard for a couple mugs. (Everleigh had gotten used to the fact that he needed to stand on his toes to reach some of them.) (Didn't mean she didn't find it cute each and every time it happened.) "Green."

"Green it is." Everleigh took a couple tea bags from her cupboard, dropping them into her kettle before pouring water in. She clicked the stove on and placed the kettle down.

Maverick let out a small snort. "Everleigh."

"Kingston."

"Why do you own this?" Maverick held a mug up, the print facing her. The words Happiness is being a mee-maw stared back at her.

Everleigh let out a snort of a laugh. "I found that in a thrift store. It's incredible, right?"

Maverick looked at it again and laughed, taking Everleigh's hand in his and kissing the back of it. "Only you, you dork."

"I have a world's best grandpa too."

Maverick laughed at looked into the cabinet. Craned his neck a little. "Where?"

"On the top."

"You know I can't see it, Everleigh."

Everleigh let out a small giggle. "Do you take milk with your tea?"

"Are you going to make me grab it so you can get the grandpa mug while I'm not looking?"

"If it magically appears on the counter, it wasn't me."

Maverick laughed and turned to walk to the fridge. And, frankly, Everleigh didn't mean to stare, but there was writing on the small of his back she hadn't seen before.

"Kingston."

"Yeah?" Maverick reached into the fridge for the milk.

"Do you have a tattoo that says Kristen Stewart right above your ass—" (It was definitely in the font from the book covers.) (Everleigh hadn't read them, but she knew enough to identify it as such.)

Maverick, promptly, hit his head on the top of the fridge. "Motherfucker." He grabbed the back of his head with his hand as he ducked out of the fridge, milk in his other hand. "I forgot that was there—"

"You forgot you had a tattoo—"

"It's not like I can see it—"

"Care, um..." Everleigh walked over and grabbed an ice pack from her freezer and held it out to him. Maverick took it and placed it where he'd hit, thanking her quietly. She really tried not to laugh. Desperately. But Maverick looked up at her and Everleigh had to cover her mouth to keep her composure. When she'd calmed herself down relatively enough, she managed to ask, "Care to elaborate?"

"The short version is Esmé bet me 200 bucks that I wouldn't do it after watching all five Twilight movies with her in one sitting," Maverick said. "And I came out of that parlour richer."

Everleigh couldn't help it; the snorts that escaped during her laughter were well-earned. "You're such a spoon."

"I may be a spoon, but I am also—" Maverick grabbed a mug from the cabinet and read from it. "Number One Dad."

Everleigh laughed. "Congratulations."

"Did you get all of these from thrift stores?"

"I have one that says Satan is my sugar daddy."

"Oh my God—"

*

Everleigh was anxious, despite Maverick's best attempts to calm her down. She eventually had to turn her phone notifications off so his words of encouragement didn't buzz if she were to be called into the office. Her leg bounced faster each passing minute, it was likely a good thing that Maverick had taken her car from her, she would've left if she had any means to. In hindsight, she knew that he'd taken it so she couldn't. That was nice.

Campus was nice. Lots of windows that showcased how much it rained in London. Loud students on stairways that Everleigh had to walk around any time she wanted to go to class; another reason asynchronous was the best choice for attending. Something about school made her feel like she was already sweating through her shirt. The waiting room in the advisor's office had enough seats that Everleigh didn't have to sit next to anyone, that was also a win. She wished she could apply another layer of deodorant. Christ.

"Everleigh Meadowlark?" one of the advisors said as they walked into the waiting room.

Lo and behold, Everleigh was going to throw up.

She got up from her seat and headed into the academic advisor's office. Heart pounding like a thousand raindrops hitting the pavement. (Oh, to be outside.) (To be anywhere but the academic advisor's office.)

"Hi, Everleigh," the advisor said.

"Hey," Everleigh said, taking a seat near their desk.

"What can I help you with?"

"I, em, I just want to make sure I'm on the right track for graduation."

"Do you know when you want to graduate?"

Everleigh scoffed. "As soon as possible."

The advisor laughed with her. "Great, let's look at your unofficial transcript."

Everleigh's leg didn't stop bouncing as the advisor typed and pulled her transcript up. Once it loaded, they looked through it. "Oh, this is looking amazing."

"Really?"

"Everleigh, you realize your grades have you not only graduating on time, but also have you in the running for valedictorian, right?"

"What?"

"You have a 4.2 GPA. One, maybe two of your classmates have something similar," the advisor said. "You're close to being unbeatable with the way your performance has been rated this semester."

"You have my clinical marks?" Everleigh sat a little more forward in her seat.

"Your shadow submitted her comments today," the advisor said. "You came highly recommended and more than anything else, there were other shadows who wrote about you. Even when you weren't their shadow."

"Really?"

"You're going to be an amazing practitioner. You just have to be here for it."

"You mean—"

"There is a comment on your file that says you need online schooling because you take exams asynchronous."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"I heard it took a while for you to attend clinical," the advisor said. "For a while, you were on my contact list. Despite the good grades."

"Am I okay now?"

"I want to let you know that your last couple semesters are going to be gruelling."

"I assumed."

"I know you're here to check out your ability to graduate, but may I say something else?" the advisor asked. Their tone made Everleigh's stomach turn.

Everleigh bit her lip. "Sure."

"It's really hard to continue full time work and finish your degree the way you're doing so. You end up spreading yourself too thin and burnout happens. You're a promising student, Everleigh," the advisor said, "and we wouldn't want to see you lose this when you're so close."

"Are you trying to recommend I quit my job?"

"I recommend you make sure your nursing comes first," the advisor said. "But you are in line for a promising career right now; assure you're doing the best for yourself."

"I'm at a 4.2 while doing this job—"

"Everleigh, I'm not trying to upset you."

"When will I graduate at the rate I'm going now?"

"Fall will be your last semester."

Everleigh tried to keep her composure. But two more semesters was a lot closer than she thought she was to finishing. She was closer to vomiting than she thought. "Really?"

"You're a bright student. Make sure you're doing what you can."

"I have to pay tuition—"

"There are plenty of scholarships that you already qualify for."

"And rent—"

"We want to make sure you're reaching your full potential—"

"I have a 4.2—"

The advisor held their hands up. "Okay, let's stop this conversation. It's okay if you want to continue flying around, I just thought you may need a warning."

"I—" Everleigh sighed. "Thank you."

"Should we look at classes that you still need to take?"

"Okay."

"Do you want to stick to three per semester?"

"Yes, please."

"Great, so..." the advisor scrolled, looking at Everleigh's transcript. "You need five more classes. A couple lower level that we'll be offering in the summer, and a couple upper levels you need for your last semester in the fall."

Everleigh knew about the lower levels, at least. She'd missed them while on the never-ending waitlist. Then she ignored them as she kept getting into upper levels, the lowers in the back of her mind. That wasn't bad; at least she knew most of it. "That's good, right?"

"Very good."

"Okay... thanks?" Everleigh supposed it shouldn't have been as nerve-wracking to come into that office as it had been. But her stomach twisted at the thought of leaving her job, even if she would have to eventually. The advisor was right; she did need to do better at putting herself first. It simply sucked to hear it out loud.

"Any other questions for me?"

"Um..." Everleigh eyed the candy bowl on the desk. "May I have a lolly?"

The advisor smiled, waving a hand. "Be my guest."

Everleigh pulled a lollipop from the dish, popping it into her mouth. Something to focus on that wasn't her academic career and the potential to ruin it. "Thank you."

"You've got a bright future. We'll see you soon when you apply to graduate, okay?"

Everleigh nodded and stood up, walking out of the office. She tried to ignore the skip in her step. How the lolly was a horrible raspberry cough syrup flavour but somehow tasted like ambrosia, nectar of the gods.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she undid a couple buttons on her blouse, regaining the ability to breathe as she dialled. As it rang, she pressed the phone to her ear.

"How'd it go?"

"Can you come pick me up, please?"

Maverick, for once, was at a loss for words. When he managed them, they formed a question. "Do I have to buy ice cream first...?"

"I really want to be out of this shirt."

"On my way," Maverick said. "I found a sick shirt at the store you can change into when you're in the car."

"Thank you."

"Are you okay, Everleigh?"

"Can I tell you in the car?"

"I—yeah—okay. Be there in five?" Maverick said. "I don't... I don't think I went far? I wanted to stay around the corner..."

"Drive safe."

"Do you need me to stay on the line?"

"No, it's okay."

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

"I'll be outside." Everleigh ended the call and jogged down the stairs to leave the campus, fighting a small smile. Valedictorian? She thought she was lucky to be passing. Holy shit.

It was a cloudy day in London, wrought with greys that weren't quite ready to turn into rain. Not brisky enough for a jacket. That was a win. Everleigh looked around, ready to see her piece of shit car while Maverick kept his eyes on the road trying to find the campus. She crunched her lollipop, dropping the stick when she was finished into a bin nearby.

When the car eventually came around the corner—ten minutes later, not five, classic—Everleigh gave Maverick a small wave, urging him to pull over. Before Everleigh could get in, Maverick jumped out of the car.

"What the hell happened?"

"I—" Everleigh couldn't fight it. The smile broke through, her hand covering her mouth for a moment before she buried Maverick in a hug; his arms wrapping around her like it was instinct.

"Is this good or—"

"I might be valedictorian."

"You little shit, Everleigh—"

"I'm sorry."

Maverick pulled away, hands on her biceps. Grip tight, but not too tight. "You had me thinking you were expelled—"

"I wanted to tell you in person."

"Don't," Maverick said, almost laughing with relief. "I never want you to tell me anything like that in person ever. I want you to spoil things on the phone. Always."

Everleigh didn't mean to laugh. "Okay."

"I mean it."

"I got it."

"Valedictorian?"

"Potentially." Everleigh smiled, pressed her knuckles to her lips. Trying to contain her excitement. Nothing was confirmed, yet. She needed to stay calm. "I have a 4.2."

"A 4.2?"

"A four-point-fucking-two."

"Oh my God." Maverick hugged her again. Kissed her cheek. "That's incredible. You're incredible."

"I graduate after fall semester."

"You're amazing." Maverick hugged her tighter. "That's amazing."

"Thank you for picking me up."

"In your car? With your gas? Oh, any time." Maverick laughed. "Here you were thinking you weren't going to be a university's wet dream."

"I was worried, okay?"

"Here, here." Maverick pulled away, opening the door to the backseat and pulling a card out. "For you."

Everleigh took it, ripped the envelope open. A picture of a golden retriever stared back at her on a printed card. She raised an eyebrow at Maverick as she opened the card. Maverick's handwriting was still terrible, but there was no denying what he'd written. "School sucks—"

Maverick's eyes widened and he tore the card from her hands. He leaned back into the backseat. "Nope, not that one."

Everleigh laughed as he stood up, handing her another card. "This one for sure?" she asked.

Maverick nodded. "For sure."

Everleigh opened the card, the same golden retriever looking at her. Her smile broke itself into a wild laugh as she read. "Congratulations, I knew you could do it."

Maverick gave her a big, awkward smile that took up most of his face. "It's true."

"That's why the consolation card existed, right?"

"The consolation card existed because you told me nothing and I have a panic disorder, Everleigh."

Everleigh wrapped her arms around his neck, forearms resting on his shoulders, fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm so sorry."

"You're forgiven, but please know I wouldn't have been late if you had told me what was going on," Maverick said, smiling. "I was buying cards."

"Fine," Everleigh said. "You can blame that one on me."

"It was literally your fault."

Everleigh wrinkled her nose at him. "You're not really known for being on time, darling."

Maverick laughed. "This time I was going to be."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"I was literally around the corner, but I had to hunt down a corner store."

Everleigh laughed as her eyes darted to the backseat. "Have you bought ice cream too?"

Maverick scoffed, then laughed, then scoffed. Chuckled. Scoffed. "You gave me no information, Everleigh—"

Everleigh could've gotten used to kissing him in the middle of sentences. Smiling as she pulled away. "Thank you, you dork."

"You're welcome," Maverick said, "valedictorian Meadowlark."

Everleigh trailed her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "What're we going to do when we're on opposite sides of the world?"

Maverick kissed her again. "We'll figure it out."