Once upon a time, only Maverick was on that list.Maverick-sexual, he’d joked once.It was just so stupid that I actually believed it for a while.
Eventually, August joined the list, and so did Lucas.
Suddenly, the stupid joke wasn’t an excuse, and it certainly didn’t explain anything either.
That was when the worddemisexualfirst came up. The idea that attraction didn’t come as easily to me because it wasn’t supposed to—that it required emotional connection and trust first—felt both validating and upsetting because once that door opened, there was another truth that went with it.
All of the connections that had sparked some kind of feeling inside me had been with men.
Accepting it intellectually was one thing, but sitting with what it meant for the rest of my life was something else entirely. It poked at the decades of expectations and trauma I was struggling to unfold.
So yeah, avoiding was probably the right word for it. It was easier to focus on Aria. It was easier to pour all my energyinto being the father she deserved and the man I was trying to become. It was easier to leave the rest as an abstract instead of stepping out into a world where I’d have to start figuring out what that part of myself actually looked like in practice.Like how I’d explain that to my daughter.
She wanted a mother, and the most I could give her was a step-dad one day. I didn’t know how to tell her that.
My train of thought was interrupted by a dog barking, and I glanced up to see a brown dog barreling down the beach. Sand and spray kicked up as he went.
“Hey!Where the fuck do you think you’re going, you little shithead?” a man shouted—one I very quickly recognized. Looking the other direction, I saw Maverick walking after the dog. He dragged a massive piece of driftwood behind him.What the hell did he need that for?
The dog made a U-turn and hurried right back to Maverick, bouncing around with a kind of energy that rivaled Aria’s. Maverick’s laughter was loud enough for me to hear from where I was parked. I watched when I probably shouldn’t have, but I was so fascinated by him. How free and happy he was. That smile of his was easy, and the tension was gone from his body.
And I realized as I watched him that I was happy for him. He deserved the kind of life where he was untroubled and carefree. Life had taken so much from him over the years. If anyone deserved a good life, it was him.
I sat there long after he disappeared somewhere down the beach, lost in my own thoughts. Little memories from our past had ebbed their way to the surface. For years, I’d packed those memories away like old photographs—something to be acknowledged every once in a while, and that was it. I carried a lot of regrets about Maverick. He deserved so much better than what my family and I had put him through.
So seeing him happy?That put to ease something inside me that I didn’t realize needed soothing.
A knock on the passenger door scared the shit out of me, making me jump in my seat. My head hit the roof, and I groaned.What the hell?Looking over, I saw Maverick leaning against my SUV with a smirk on his lips.
“If you’re going to stalk me, Harley, the least you can do is buy me breakfast,” he said.
“Uh…” I faltered, taken by surprise.
“Do you remember whereThe Boathouseis?”
“I do.”
‘Good. Duke and I will meet you there,” Maverick told me as he walked away. There was no room to argue with him, even if I wanted to. I watched him leave as I tried to justify why this wasn’t a bad idea.
CHAPTER 83
maverick
Inviting Harley to breakfast was impulsive, but nothing in the handbook of being around your ex said you couldn’t invite him to breakfast.Okay, it probably would’ve been if a book like that existed.But Harley and I… we just weren’t like most exes. We’d tried a few different times. The connection would always be there. I’d resigned myself to that.
And if I were being honest, I missed having Harley around—though I hadn’t realized that until I was face-to-face with him again.
After loading up my latest driftwood haul and doing my best to dry off Duke, I drove over toThe Boathouse.Harley’s SUV sat in the parking lot, beating me there, and he leaned against the hood, arms crossed. The flannel from yesterday was gone, replaced by a cream cardigan that felt more like him.At least, the version of him that I knew.Who knew? Maybe flannel and work boots were the new attire at his family’s company.
“This is Duke,” I said as I walked toward him. “He’ll be joining us for breakfast.”
“Since when does Millie allow dogs in her diner?” Harley asked.
“She doesn’t.” As I walked toward the front door, he fell in step alongside me. Unlike most people, he made no move to interact with Duke.Interesting.Maybe Harley wasn’t a dog person. It probably didn’t help that Duke had no interest in him either—not when we were about to walk intoThe Boathouse.“She loves Duke, though. He has his own spot and everything.”
The only person who loved Duke more than I did was Millie, and Duke loved her more than he loved me. He wasn’tjusta dog to her. That was her furry grandbaby. Some days, I wondered whose dog he was.
“Look at my baby!” Millie exclaimed the moment Duke trotted through the door.See? Her baby, not mine.Duke hurried across the diner and behind the lunch counter to greet her, his tail wagging rapidly.
