Page 86 of Where You Left Me

Me

You need to check your receipts because it’s your girl who’s doing the hurting.

Rosie

Then why was she the one crying her eyeballs out at my café today instead of your pansy-ass?

Me

Because real men don’t cry.

Rosie

That checks because I just saw you cry last week.

“Toss me a beer,”Maverick commands after stepping into my garage.

“What the fuck? Get it yourself. I’m not a bartender in here,” I bark out.

“Damn, Cammie warned me you were in a mood, but you don’t have to be such a prick. Especially not to your best friend.”

I glower at Maverick from where my head is shoved underneath the hood of my truck. He shuffles toward the small fridge in the corner of the garage and snatches a beer.

“What’s wrong with the truck now?” Maverick asks after sucking down a drink.

“Not sure. It’s making a ticking sound.”

“You sure you’re not just tinkering around out here so you can avoid what’s going on in there?” he points toward the door with the beer can in his hand.

I shake my head and exhale a whistled breath.

He tosses me a beer. “Guess your“not-so-secret”secret is safe with me. But I should warn you, if you don’t go into thebar and at least show your face, Cammie will come out here and check on you herself.”

“Can’t you just go back in there and tell her I’m fine.”

“I could…”

I narrow my eyes at him and adjust the ballcap on my head. “Don’t be an ass.”

He glares back. “You don’t be an ass.”

“You’re such a dillhole.”

“Takes one to know one,” he fires back.

I glare at him and his ridiculousness.

“I can do this all night.”

I take a swig of my beer. “You know I can’t go in there.”

Maverick leans against the back counter. “Well, you can’t avoid her forever.”

“What day is it?”

Frowning, he replies, “Sunday.”

“So not forever. Only for three more days. She leaves Wednesday.” I force a faux cheesy ass grin.

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