Page 13 of Where You Left Me

“I’m sorry I never told you guys,” I say, hoarsely.

He hunches a shoulder. “Well, it’s out now. So the question is, what are you gonna do about it?”

I draw my brows together. “What do ya mean? What is there to do? Mia already aired out all our fucking dirty laundry.”

Maverick shakes his head. “Not that. How are you going to get over this?”

“I don’t know,” I exhale the words.

“For starters, I think talking about it will help. Cammie and I may not have been there for you eight years ago, but we’re here now. I’m sorry, man, that you went through that. No one should have to deal with that shit alone.”

I force a small smile and nod. “Thanks.”

The door that separates my apartment from the bar creaks open and draws our attention. Mia stands there wide-eyed, dressed in my Maple Ridge Rams sweatshirt from my old hockey days and looking caught. The sweatshirt, while big on her, still barely covers her ass and I can’t keep from letting my eyes trail up and down her body.The betraying bastards. She has her own clothes tucked underneath her arm and her shoes pinched between her fingers. Blush creeps into her cheeks.

“Oh, hey, Maverick. I didn’t know anyone else would be down here,” she says softly, tugging the sweatshirt down.

“Morning,” Maverick says, amusement flashing in his eyes when he swings his attention from Mia and back to me.

I groan and run a hand over the back of my neck.

Maverick stands. “I was just leaving. I’ll catch you two later.”

“No, it’s okay, you stay.” She rushes toward us. “I was just leaving too.”

I quirk a brow in her direction, heat filling my limbs. “Not fucking dressed like that,” I say with a growl.

She stops and glances down at herself, fidgeting with the hem of the sweatshirt. “About that, how’d I get in your sweatshirt?” She narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t remember getting undressed.”

I grunt. “Not surprised.”

“Okay, see ya.” Maverick hurries out of the bar.

“Jones?” she says my name sternly and it causes my dick to twitch. It’s fucked up, but I miss her and the confidence she used to have with me. She never had a problem telling me exactly what she wanted me to do to her to make her fall apart.

“Did you undress me?” Mia asks once Maverick is gone, approaching the bar.

I lift my palms in surrender. “I swear I didn’t look.”

“Ha. Bullshit.”

I can’t tell if she’s mad about this, or if she’s teasing me. And I don’t like it. I fucking hate that I don’t know her well enough anymore that I can’t tell the difference.

“You got puke on your dress. What was I supposed to do?”

“How aboutnotundressing me while I was unconscious?” she quips.

I glare at her, my skin heating. Sheismad. “I wasn’t about to put you in my bed like that. So, I carefully, without fucking looking by the way, undressed and dressed you. So, you’re welcome. Fuck.” I stomp past her and snatch my keys off the counter.

“Where’re you going?”

“Taking you home.”

“Don’t bother.” She waves a hand nonchalantly in the air. “It’s like two blocks away, I think I can manage walking.”

“And like I said, dressed like that? I don’t fucking think so,” I growl.

She glares at me. I glare back. And suddenly we find ourselves in a head-to-head staring contest.

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