Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

Chapter Ten

  Delaney

  Me: Did you see tonight’s episode of Game of Thrones? OMG.

  He-Man: Yep. Now I want a pet dragon.

  Me: Would you settle for a cat?

  He-Man: Only if you come with it.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this party,” I mutter to Skye Friday night as I walk next to her up the sidewalk as we make our way to the baseball frat house near campus. It isn’t really a frat at all, just a huge colonial brick house donated by one of the former players from Waylon who went on to play major league baseball.

  “Well, you need to get out of the house. Plus, that outfit is amazing and we can’t waste it.” She eyes the black asymmetrical knit mini-dress I’m wearing. I spent my free time this week piecing together and sewing it. Made of jersey, it’s formfitting with a band of thick cream lace on the bottom, giving it a flounce. The neckline has little hearts cut out of the fabric while the back is cut into strips, creating a peekaboo effect.

  “You’re so talented,” she murmurs. “Instead of being a graphic designer, you should consider fashion.”

  I laugh. “Ha. Me?”

  “You’d rock a nerd girl line. Think about it: cute little up-cycled dresses, shirts with books on them…the possibilities are endless.”

  I shrug. Skye is sweet, but I’m not sure I’m fashion material. I just like being different and wearing something no one else has.

  “Oh my God, I’m having so many epiphanies tonight.” She grabs my arm and stops walking. “Text your He-Man and see if he wants to meet you there!”

  Yes, I ended up telling her about him one night this week when I’d had a few glasses of wine.

  I nibble on my lips. “I kinda like not knowing who he is. It’s…freeing.”

  She thinks. “True, but wouldn’t it be great to have a guy with you in case Alex is at the party?”

  “He probably will be.” The jocks tend to stick together.

  My brain mulls it over, part of me scared. He-Man and I have such great conversations. What if it’s not Maverick—the person I really want it to be—but some pimply-faced water boy?

  Skye sighs. “You know what, stop thinking about why you shouldn’t. Just do it.”

  “Fine.” I pull out my phone and type: I need you, He-Man.

  Ten seconds go by and I don’t see him replying, so I send another text.

  I’m still single, in case you were wondering.

  Still nothing.

  I’m headed to the baseball party. Do you want to meet me there?

  “What’s he saying?” Skye asks.

  I shake my head. “Nothing. He’s playing hard to get.”

  She takes my phone, reads through the messages, and before I can stop her, she’s typing out another one.

  I’m a little drunk, a lot horny, and all alone. Come with me to the party, and I mean really COME.

  She hands it back to me in triumph.

  “I don’t think that message is quite slutty enough,” I say with a smirk.

  Skye laughs then shouts as the three little dots appear. “Well it worked—he’s replying!”

  Already here, Princess Leia. Remember the first night we texted? The fantasy of us at a frat party?

  My heart flutters.

  Yes, I text back. It’s never far from my mind.

  Meet me upstairs in the bathroom in an hour and we’ll make it come true. I dare you.

  Excitement steals my breath at the thought of seeing him for real, but are we really going to hook up? I swallow. How will I know it’s you?

  I’ll be the only badass athlete waiting for you in the bathroom.

  My hands are trembling as I tuck my phone back in my clutch and look at Skye. “Shit. He’s here and we’re going to meet in the bathroom.”

  Skye claps, giddy for me. “You’re going to have sex,” she sings.

  “It doesn’t mean that,” I say, trying to shush her as we approach the door to the house, but I have to admit the exhilaration is making my steps light as we make our way inside.

  I get to see He-Man!

  The room is packed with groups of people talking and drinking or making out in corners. Loud music blares from the sound system, and I estimate the drunk factor is already at a five on a scale of one to ten.

  Tyler calls out from the hallway where he’s chatting with some other baseball players, his hand waving at us to come over. Skye gives me a questioning look. “Want to come with?”

  I shake my head. “You go on. I’ll find the bar.”

  She heads off toward Tyler, and I watch as she jumps at him. He catches her in his arms and lays one on her.

  Bobby Gene calls out my name, and I look up to see him standing upstairs. He’s looking handsome with a ball cap on and his arm tossed around the redhead from dance class. “Delaney!” He tips his beer at me.

  I tilt my head toward his beer. “I need one of those—stat.”

  Someone jostles into me from behind, and I turn to see Maverick. He runs his eyes over me, lingering on the cutouts on my chest.

  Goose bumps pop up on my skin. I’m hyperaware of every single nerve ending in my body when he’s near.

  “So are you always bumping into people or is that just me?” he says.

  “You bumped into me,” I retort with a grin. “It’s like you were waiting for me.”

  Was he?

  He shrugs, those broad shoulders shifting with an animalistic grace. He’s wearing a fitted orange and blue Wildcats shirt that hugs his chest, the sleeves tight around his hard biceps.

  I get distracted when my eyes go past him and I see Alex with Martha-Muffin trailing along behind him. He looks annoyed, and her eyes are red as if she’s been crying. I study them more intently, taking in the sad expression she wears as she stares longingly at Alex. I don’t really want to know what’s going on between them, but it’s apparent she really likes him.

  I inch in closer to Maverick, needing to get away from them. “Why don’t you show me the bar in this place? Isn’t it in the back room?”

  As if reading my mind, he tosses a glance over his shoulder and sees Alex. He looks back and gives me a nod. “Done.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Maverick

  We’re sitting on a couch in the back room. People come and go past us, mostly on their way outside where the fire pit is, yet it feels like we’re alone. She’s all I can see right now, and I’ve been counting down the days until I can go to a damn salsa lesson with her again. Fuck me, I want Delaney Shaw.

  I never imagined I’d be this…intense about wanting a girl, but here I am. Something about her has me worked up, has me wanting everything I never thought I did.

  She smiles at me, her ruby lips curving. “So, let’s go back to freshman year—why exactly did you kiss me?”

  “Because of the legend. The first person you kiss at your first bonfire at Waylon is the one you’ll never forget.”

  She leans into me. “But you did forget about me. You went home with twins.”

  “Whom I barely remember.” I exhale, thinking back to how I was at eighteen. “The truth is, I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Plus, the accident had just happened a few months before. My head wasn’t in the right place.”

  “And it is now?”

  “I’m not perfect, but I know what I want.” My eyes go heavy as I run my gaze over her, taking in the way her breasts push against the fabric of her dress. “You’re the one that got away, Delaney, the opportunity I missed.”

  My hand goes to her back and strums across the bare skin of her shoulder. Her skin feels like silk, soft and velvety.

  “And you think you can just sweet-talk me into giving another football player a chance?”

  I grin. “Yes.”

  A little laugh comes from her. “Sometimes I’d like to just slap you.”

  I smirk. “That means I have an effect on you.”

  “You drive me crazy,” she murmurs, her eyes going low.

  Our faces are closer n
ow, and her scent washes over me, light and fresh, like lemons.

  I touch her face, tracing the line of her jaw.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice whisper soft.

  “I’m going to prove that this heat between us…it’s got to be dealt with,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t sit by you in class one more day without doing something about it.”

  Just before I’m about to press my mouth to hers, someone barks out my name.

  Chapter Twelve

  Delaney

  He’s going to kiss me…until he doesn’t, his head turning sharply at the sound of his name.

  Anger clouds his face, and I look over to see Alex and Ryker and several other football players striding toward us. Suddenly the room seems full of people swiveling their heads in our direction. Maverick stands, and I do the same. Martha-Muffin is here too, huddled in the corner with some of her sorority sisters, her eyes darting from me to Alex.

  I stiffen my shoulders and tilt my chin up as he stops in front of us, his eyes bouncing from me to Maverick. Ryker trails behind him, a worried expression on his face as he looks at Maverick.

  “Everything okay here?” Alex says, his chest rising rapidly. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

  Maverick towers over Alex, his body coiled like a snake, his face tight. “She’s fine. Why are you asking?”

  “One of the freshmen said you were getting cozy with Delaney,” he snaps. “That isn’t cool—not at all.”

  Maverick scowls and takes several steps away from me, forcing Alex to move backward. In a matter of seconds, the space between us has been filled by other players surrounding them, waiting to see what’s going to happen.

  “You aren’t dating her. What’s the problem?” Maverick bites out.

  “The problem is I know you aren’t Delaney’s style, and I wanted to check on her. Besides, it’s a shitty guy that hits on a teammate’s ex.”

  I’ve pushed my way through the throng of people and I see Alex crossing his arms. His face is red with anger.

  Shit. This is escalating fast.

  Maverick inhales a deep breath, his fists clenching. “That’s up to her. She can make up her own mind.”

  Ryker steps in between them, his voice low. “Hey, hey, look, this is just a little misunderstanding. No one is angry here. Everything is cool.”

  Some of the other players grumble out an agreement, but neither guy seems to be listening.

  Maverick’s eyes have narrowed in on Alex. “There’s no misunderstanding. I was sitting with Delaney. Everything was fine until he showed up.”

  Alex puffs up his chest. “She still cares about me, and you’re just getting in the way.”

  Maverick bristles and leans his face into Alex’s. His index finger pushes at Alex’s chest, forcing him to take a step back. If a fight is about to happen, it’s clear who would win. “Stay out of my way, kicker, or you’ll regret it.”

  Alex pales and is fumbling for a response when Maverick spins on his heel and stalks out the back door into the yard. I exhale, watching him go.

  I should let him cool off.

  But I don’t. I head out the door, chasing him to the back gate that connects to the front drive.

  “Maverick! Wait.”

  He halts and flips around to face me, his jawline taut with repressed anger. There’s about ten feet between us, but I can read him like a book. He’s coiled like a tiger, ready to spring.

  His gaze brushes over me, and I think I see a flash of regret flicker across his face.

  “Delaney…go back inside.”

  I lift my hands up. “Why? Where are you going?”

  He exhales slowly as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “I just need to cool off, okay?” His eyes flick back to the house. “I can’t go back in there. I’m on the verge of kicking Alex’s ass, and I can’t do that.”

  Oh.

  I get it—he wants to flirt with me, but I’m not quite important enough to go against his teammates for.

  Fine. Football is king, and nothing else matters.

  Disappointment hits me. “So you’re just giving up?”

  His lips flatten and he doesn’t meet my gaze. “Later,” he says, and then he’s walking away from me.

  I stalk back into the house, my hands clenched, disappointment churning. Part of me is…hurt. Just when I’d been softening to the idea of a football player, he goes and blows me off.

  It’s been almost an hour, so I decide to go upstairs and meet He-Man. Careful to avoid Alex, I head upstairs to the hallway to wait outside the bathroom while a myriad of people come and go.

  I’m anxious to see He-Man, but when he’s fifteen minutes late, I’m starting to look like a bathroom stalker. I pull out my phone.

  I’m here and you’re not. Are you standing me up?

  No reply.

  You suck, I send, typing the words.

  I can’t make it, he replies. Sorry. Something came up.

  My stomach drops as I suck in a breath. Why is everyone letting me down?

  Feeling more devastated than I should about a guy I’ve just been texting with, I shove my phone back into my clutch.

  Alex is a cheating dick, Maverick ditched me, and now He-Man is a no-show.

  All men are jerks.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maverick

  “I’m sorry I had to call you to come get him,” Mick says as I march up to the counter of a local bar, aptly named Mick’s. It’s a rather seedy, dusty place that plays old country songs, and it’s my father’s favorite, even though he’s been kicked out of it at least half a dozen times that I know of.

  My hands clench. I didn’t see Mick’s voicemails until two hours after he left them because of football practice.

  “What happened?” I ask, looking around and assessing, not seeing Dad or Raven. It’s a Monday evening and the place is dotted with a few worn faces.

  His head nods to a back booth and my eyes follow, landing on my father. “He’s been here drinking since six. He fell pretty hard and hurt his hand. Nothing too serious, I don’t think, but Jackie played nursemaid back in the office.” I see the large white bandage. “He begged me not to call you, but I knew you’d want to know.”

  Anger curls inside me. “Where’s Raven?” I ask, my eyes scanning the room once again.

  “In the office with Jackie.” Mick sends me a sympathetic look. “Look, I know things are busy at school, but something needs to be done.”

  My entire body tightens. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  What I don’t tell him is that I’m driving out to the trailer multiple times a week to take care of her, even though it’s half an hour from campus. In a perfect world, I’d just move back in with Dad and Raven, but Coach Al requires us to live in the dorms.

  I deal with my dad first, walking over to his booth and shaking his shoulder. “Dad!”

  He reeks of bourbon and stale cigarettes, making bile rise up in my throat. It’s a smell I recall from my early days as a kid, coming home from school to see him passed out on the couch.

  “Mav,” he slurs, raising his head up as spittle slides out of his mouth. “I’m sorry…didn’t mean to…all my fault.” The words are low and barely decipherable through the whiskey.

  “I can’t believe you brought Raven here,” I snap, my gaze brushing over the patrons at the bar. “Anything could have happened to her.”

  “Didn’t have money for a sitter.” His eyes blink up at me, bloodshot and runny with a wetness I don’t want to decipher. I don’t care, I tell myself.

  “You’re a son of a bitch,” I mutter as I lean down and pull him to the edge of the booth so I can swoop him up in my arms.

  His chin falls down to his chest.

  I brush past the bar and carry him out the front door. Ryker is waiting for me, his arms crossed against his chest. Same as me, he’s dressed in workout clothes, and he straightens up from leaning against my truck. Normally I wouldn’t hav
e asked him to come down here with me, but he was with me when I listened to the voicemails. I motion for him to open the door so I can prop Dad up in the backseat.

  He watches me with a grim face, his gaze brushing over my father. “What the hell? Shit,” he mutters.

  With a withering glare at my dad’s lowered head, I head back inside with Ryker following me.

  Mick ushers me to the back office and we sweep inside. Raven is sitting in a recliner watching Family Feud, her face pale and her cheeks stained with tears. Jackie is sitting at the desk working on a laptop, and she gives me a soft nod and a pat on the shoulder. “She’s okay, love, just feeling out of sorts.”

  “Mav!” Raven lights up as she rushes over to me.

  She bursts into tears as she jumps toward me, her thin arms wrapping around my shoulders. God, I need to do better by her.

  “I’m sorry. I never dreamed he’d bring you here.”

  Cupping my face, she searches my eyes then gives a little knock to her head. “I…have…headache.”

  I kiss the top of her head. “Come on, Rav. I got you. Let’s get you home.”

  * * *

  Later that night as Ryker and I drive back to campus, my head is wrecked, riddled with worry and trying to come up with a solution. Only one thing is certain: I want Raven out of my dad’s trailer.

  The problem is, I don’t have the money to fund it. I can’t ask for a loan from Coach or anyone at school, and I can’t have a job that pays over two thousand dollars; those rules are in place to prevent bribing and payouts. My dad has zero credit, so he’s out as well.

  Ryker keeps shooting me careful looks and I know he’s worried about me, which is funny considering this past weekend he was worried I was causing trouble for the team with Delaney. Obviously, I have bigger issues right now.

  Once we get back to the dorms, I give him a brusque good night then go into my bedroom and dig around in my nightstand for the number the casino owner gave me.