Fly With Me | ✓

16

"My handwriting is not that bad—"

"Kingston, I work with medical doctors—"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Maverick waved his hands. "Start over. Good morning, Meadowlark, I brought breakfast."

"Good morning, Kingston," Everleigh said, "go to a handwriting tutor."

Maverick took the pillow from Everleigh and hit her in the hip with it. That was also fair. "I thought you watched horror movies. The hell are you doing reacting like that?"

"You're lucky I didn't hit you with the suitcase, Kingston."

Maverick considered this with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. "Call it even?"

"Deal." Everleigh crossed her arms. "What do I owe you for breakfast?"

"Nothing," Maverick said. "Forget it."

"I will literally slaughter the next man who says that to me."

"What?"

"You heard me, Kingston."

"A fiver?" Maverick suggested.

"Tenner and we've got a deal."

"Why did you ask if you're just going to give me a ten—"

"Because that's how it works and you're being difficult." Everleigh dug her wallet out of the pile of clothes.

"What other man took you out for dinner—"

"Here." Everleigh tossed an American bill at Maverick. Probably a twenty, not a ten.

"You know I'm Canadian—"

"Shut up, Kingston."

Maverick looked like he was fighting laughter as he slid his jacket off his shoulders. For a moment, he stayed quiet. As per Everleigh's half teasing request.

"What?" Everleigh rolled her eyes.

Maverick grinned and walked past her. "Nice tattoo, Meadowlark."

Everleigh's eyes widened as she reached a hand to the small of her back.

Strictly speaking, flight attendants weren't allowed tattoos. And while nurses were, there was still a little bit of stigma regarding it. That being said, Everleigh was seventeen once. And stupid. Had big dreams of what she wanted her world to look like and what she was expecting from her life.

A little paper airplane followed by a trail of dotted lines was a simple design that seemed a thousand times more exciting to a teenager who found a shop willing to ink her without her parents' permission.

It felt a little too personal that Maverick was the only person who hadn't seen her naked who knew about her tattoo. Donny didn't matter, Maverick did.

"You... I..." Everleigh stumbled. Very Maverick of her.

"Everleigh," Maverick half-sang, "Relax."

"Why're you not making fun of me?"

"Because you look embarrassed. And that tattoo looks, like, a decade old..."

"Bloody hell, how long were you looking?"

"Breakfast time." Maverick pulled containers of berries and a can of whipped cream from a paper grocery bag.