“Hands on the table,” he says to me, jerking his chin toward my fingers on Jackson’s leg.
“What the hell is your problem?” Jackson snaps, shooting to his feet.
“Sit down.” Maverick’s dark tone leaves no room for argument. He’s kind of scary, to be honest. I mean, he doesn’t have the tattoos or the don’t-fuck-with-me attitude most guys here in the Falls do. Instead, he has something else, something more intimidating.
Entitlement and power.
He doesn’t do the dirty work. Others do it for him. He knows he’s more powerful than everyone on this side of town combined. They both are, and it shows in his smug little smirk when Jackson finally sits down.
“Good boy.”
Jackson shoots back up and I put a hand on his arm. The point of contact seems to help because he slowly lowers himself back down, though he remains stiff.
One of these days, I hope someone punches Maverick in the face. He deserves to be taken down a notch for treating my friends like subordinates. Let’s be honest—if the others were here, this would go down differently.
“Why are you here?” I ask them.
A slow, knowing curl tugs at Noah’s mouth before he turns to Rain. The blood drains from her face as she struggles to meet my gaze.
What’s going on? I try to catch her eye again, but she clears her throat and lowers her head toward the table.
“That’s a good question.” Noah’s focus narrows to Rain. “What could possibly bring us to the Falls, hmm? I wonder what?”
Err? What’s going on? The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. Sure, that’s expected when the heirs of the founding fathers show up, but this is something else entirely.
Beside me, Jackson is locked in a silent staring match with Maverick. Across the table, a flush creeps up Rain’s neck beforeshe abruptly pushes back her chair and excuses herself.Okay? What was that about?
Noah watches her slip toward the restroom. I know that look. He’s checking her out—nothing new or surprising. Men do it all the time. Hello, it’s Rain we’re talking about. But the way his dark gaze slides down her body reminds me of how Kane looks at me sometimes.
“Why are you really here?” I ask.
He turns that territorial gaze on me. “We were in the neighborhood.”
Bullshit. Did Kane put him up to this? Is he checking on me?
“Where’s Kane?”
His lips tug to the side. “Why? You miss him?”
My pulse spikes. He can’t say shit like that around Jackson. He’ll get me into even more trouble. But Jackson isn’t paying attention to us because he’s still scowling at Maverick, who looks like a fox that slipped into the henhouse. That little grin of his? Arrogant as ever.
Sighing, I wish I could take Summer home, but I’m not leaving Rain and Jackson here with these two. I don’t know what their deal is. Don’t care. But I also won’t sit by and watch them start trouble.
Noah stands up. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything, Mav?”
“I’d like a stiff one,” he drawls.
Next to me, Jackson tenses, clenching his fists on his thighs.
“I don’t think they sell alcohol here, man.” Noah sounds bored as he types a message on his phone.
“Just get me whatever.”
I look from Maverick to Jackson to Noah, who’s walking away. “Did Kane ask you to come here?”
“Believe it or not,” Maverick says in a disinterested tone, “not everything is about you, princess.”
This isn’t the Maverick I spent time with last night. This is a darker version of that guy.
