Page 63 of Tainted Tempos

“Maverick,” Jameson snaps.

I open my eyes and from his expression, I realize he must have been speaking to me. “Huh?”

Jameson sighs. “Let’s leave the writing for a bit, okay? Why don’t you go shower and then we’ll go eat.”

“It’s fine.” I shake off his offer. “I’m not really hungry for dinner. I’ll just?—”

Jameson’s eyes flash. “It’s breakfast, Mav. Hell, it’s almost lunchtime.”

Surprise rolls through me. Have I really been in the studio the entire night? After Mckenna told me she needed time and space, I wandered aimlessly for a few but then I came here. I glance around the space and realize I haven’t left in hours.

“Come on, man. Go shower. I’ll wait for you.” Jameson’s tone is gentle.

I look at him and for a beat, I see Pop.

Kind eyes and the patience of a saint.

“Okay,” I mutter.

“Okay.” My brother nods.

I go through the motions. Stand beneath the steaming stream of water and wash my hair, scrub my body, towel off. I get dressed and fix my hair.

But I can hardly meet my eyes in the mirror. When I do, I wince at how awful I look. Exhausted, depleted, fucking broken.

At the very least, I thought Mckenna and I could be messed up together. That our relatability, our mutual understanding, our history, would help us heal together.

But again, I’m on the outside looking in. I’m still the sucker hoping for a different outcome than the one Mckenna presented me with.

I’m just like Big fucking Jim. The only difference? I haven’t taken off.

Yet.

“You’re going to get through this,” Jameson says, blowing on his coffee.

We’re at The Grind and I flip my chin at Lia when I see her spinning around the place like she’s running the show. Hell, most days, I think she is.

“I fucking hope so,” I mutter.

“You will. Things with Mckenna have been happening at breakneck speed. Maybe you guys need a bit of space, some time, to figure it out. Isn’t that what she asked you for?”

Time and space.

Fuck off.

“Yep,” I say instead.

“Eat the pancakes, Mav.” Jameson points at my untouched plate.

I pick up my fork and do as he says. I’m too tired to argue.

“Later today, go to the hospital, bring her some coffee or dinner, and see if you can’t talk things out. She’s been through a lot; she needs time to process. To heal. You can’t keep secrets from a woman who’s had the rug ripped out from underneath her too many times. All it does is push her away.”

I lift an eyebrow. My brother is never forthcoming on his history with Amelia, but I know it must be really fucking big if he’s still with her. “Speaking from experience?”

Jameson sighs. “Just trust me, Mav. You want to do right by Mckenna? Then be honest with her. She needs that from you.”

I shovel a forkful of pancakes into my mouth, hating the truth in his words. Despising that deep down, I know Jameson is right.

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