Fly With Me | ✓

00.3.2 | bonus chapter

"We should probably get going if we want to catch Brendon before he has to line up," Stevie said.

"We get to see him before?!" Roman screamed more than said. They should've had him meet with Maverick's PR person like he'd suggested. Then again, they already had enough on their plate. They were PR for Kingston Maverick after all.

"Yeah, silly goose," Stevie said like Roman didn't look like he was about to pass away. "He needs to see his good luck charms."

"How does my hair look?"

If Everleigh hadn't been staring, she probably wouldn't have noticed the look on Maverick's face. Contemplating how he wasn't the one to say the stupidest thing that day.

"Like a million bucks."

"Come on, Leigh." Seira took Everleigh's arm with hers. "Windsor has an open bar for their VIP."

Perfect. Everleigh could drown herself.

"Why didn't you say that earlier—" Maverick asked.

"Let's go!"

If she hadn't had to deal with Roman since she was twelve, Everleigh might've felt bad about making Roman a problem for Maverick and Rami. But, she had indeed dealt with him for almost eighteen years, and quite fucking frankly, it was someone else's turn. Linking arms with only women and walking toward the bar was the best decision for her mental health and she would stand by it.

As they walked through the door, Stevie beamed. "Welcome to Windsor, besties."

Everleigh looked around, undeniable smile. "This is gorgeous."

"Especially that open bar," Seira said. "Leigh, what can I get you?"

"Not a Ka-Chow," Maverick said.

"Sounds like moonshine," Everleigh said.

"Coming right up."

Seira walked away and Everleigh grinned as she flipped Maverick off, earning an eye roll in return.

"Do we have any tissues around here?" Stevie asked.

"Why?" Rami asked.

"No reason."

Everleigh looked at Stevie and followed her gaze. There was no denying Stevie would stare at him every time like it was the very first night.

There was something about true love that was unable to be explained with any of the words in any of the languages Everleigh knew and probably any that she didn't, either. Because love itself was a word that didn't feel strong enough when it came to Stevie and Brendon. People said that they loved a sport, or they loved books, or they loved their job, or they loved shopping. Love lost its meaning in a terrible translation of what it really meant.

Who could look at Stevie and Brendon and think it was anything other than golden strings of fate tying themselves together? Not tangled. Braided. Woven into something so cosmically meant to be that even past, present, and future were dumbfounded at how they didn't start life intertwined. That love was too often described as red, but it was clearly golden. Like fucking daylight.

Tearing her glance away from Stevie was a mistake. Because how in the hell had she noticed Brendon before Roman had?

"Stevie," Everleigh said, "I need reassurance right now that you love me despite the fact I'm sort of related to him."

"He seems fine—"

Roman nearly snapped his neck to look at what Stevie was looking at. Somewhat smart when he wanted to be. Brendon was on his way over. Everleigh didn't know a signal to give him to tell him to run in the opposite direction.