The Second Summer

Ch. 3 - Fearless

Eve sat stoically in Maverick's large office chair, staring at the wall behind his desk and stroking the plush upholstery with her finger tips in an effort to self-soothe. She was suppose to be composing an email to the returning staff with the staff training details, but her mind had other ideas. Instead, she was ruminating on the latest pitfall of long distance dating. 

Austin stood her up. 

Again. 

But this time, he'd gone too far.

Eve had skipped lunch to sit in her room, cursing the time difference, until thirty minutes turned into an hour of waiting for Austin's call. Eve eventually caved and reached out to him, admittedly numerous times, but she only got sent to voicemail after a few rings. Finally, two hours past the time she gave up on waiting, a standard "in a meeting" text came through from Austin. This was suppose to be their 'thinking ahead makeup date', as Austin had sheepishly called it, knowing he would be out of the country for an international conference during Eve's actual birthday at the end of the week.

"At least he isn't dead," she reminded herself out loud, "...not yet."

Maverick had stepped outside to take a call from Lennon and she was curious to see what their fight would be about tonight. Eve stopped being the center of those spats months ago, once she and Austin had fallen in love she was no longer a threat in Lennon's eyes, but it didn't fix a damn thing in their relationship. Well, Maverick referred to his on-again-off-again shit show as a "situationship", but Eve simply called it the definition of insanity. He continuously did the same things and expected better results, leaving himself wide open to be wounded again. She frowned as an upsetting new idea revealed itself to her very own wounded heart.

"And now I'm doing the same thing," she lamented inwardly, "expecting something different and knowing better."

On the heels of that idea came a sickly cold feeling of revelation.

"He's ghosting me slowly," Eve whispered to the blinking cursor on Maverick's computer screen, "that rat bastard."

Austin left for Arizona, left her behind with zero hesitation, and ever since he'd slowly become a boyfriend in title only. He was disconnected from Eve in every way that mattered, and, Maverick was right, the stress was taking a physical toll on her. Her clothes didn't fit the same, gaping in the waist or swallowing her shrinking form, and she constantly rocked dark circles under her eyes from sleep deprivation. She'd often be waiting up until all hours of the night for calls that didn't come or skipping meals to be available for FaceTime dates. She really was withering away. She'd lost her fire and found herself directionless, floundering in uncertainty and wishing desperately for her late twin brother, Asher, to tell her what to do. He'd know what to do, he always did, but his words of wisdom were locked away in his casket.

"Goose?" Maverick's baritone unexpectedly rumbled close to her ear.

Eve let out a loud shriek and caught Maverick in the ribs with her elbow, pressing her hand to her racing heart while he clutched his side.

"Damn it," he cursed, "I forgot about the swing zone."

"You know I don't have flight in me, Matthew!" Eve sniffed back the tears she didn't realize she'd been shedding, "I'm all fight and you scared the hell out of me!"

Maverick motioned wildly around his office.

"I live here..." he trailed off and took a painfully slow visual inventory of her face, not stopping at her collarbones and sweeping the entire length of her tense body, "what's wrong?"