by M. S. Parker
They were so busy talking that they didn’t notice when I passed it on without drinking anything.
I didn’t mind a drink—actually, would have liked one—but I did mind sharing a bottle with people I didn’t know. It was kind of gross.
Still, it wasn’t enough to ruin my mood.
Summer was here, but the real heat hadn’t quite descended on us yet, and I was enjoying the thought of a couple of months of no school—no stress from my parents—sleeping in and doing whatever the hell I wanted.
“Hey.” My best friend Caitlyn sat down next to me and bumped me with her shoulder. “You still look so stressed, Maya. You need to chill out…relax.”
She held out a little box and I eyed it, then shrugged. “I’m good. I’m going to get a drink in a bit.”
“You just said no to some of the best damn scotch in the world.” She laughed, a sound that was bawdy and rich and lush, the kind of laugh that turned heads everywhere she went—and tonight was no exception.
Everybody looked our way.
Including Maverick.
But his eyes caught mine and it was me he smiled at. Me, not Caitlyn.
I loved her, really.
She was my best, and had been for the past two years, ever since the summer before we’d started our senior year in high school. But she was also the one who tended to catch more attention. I was vain enough to admit that a guy glancing my way every now and then would be nice.
And Maverick had.
His eyes lingered on my face, dipped down to my mouth, and I blushed.
“Oh…he’s so into you.” Caitlyn pressed her lips to my ear as she said it, keeping her voice low enough that only I could hear it—but still, I blushed even more.
I was probably bright red now, even though my skin—naturally a soft gold—didn’t betray a blush that easily.
“Come on. Take some. Loosen up. Then…see where things go.”
I looked down at the box she held out and almost pushed it away; then decided what the hell.
I’d had a solid year, only having trouble with a couple of classes. Despite what my folks thought, I was not wasting my time partying. I deserved to lighten up and relax a little, didn’t I?
Maverick leaned over, and the warm scent of him washed over me, making me feel a little giddy.
“You gonna share?”
I grinned at him. “Should I?”
“This shit is messed up. This is my best friend’s house and I can’t find a damn room?” Maverick muttered.
We’d slid deeper into the house, looking for some privacy, but so far, every room we’d come across had been…occupied.
He caught my hand and tugged me toward another door, but I dug my heels when I saw what was on the other side.
“No. No way.” It was a closet. I wasn’t having sex in a closet…was I?
No, I told myself. Then I sounded the word out…it sounded funny. “En—oh. That spells no, Mav. We’re not doing it in a closet!”
He slid a hand up my skirt, cupped my butt in his big hand. He had nice hands, nice and warm and I wanted to feel them all over me.
“Then where can we do it, beautiful?” He ran his lips down the line of my neck, already walking me backward, toward the closet.
“No, no, no…” Catching his hand, I started to walk myself in a different direction, glad when he followed.
We ended up outside again, on the broad, curving pathway that led to the house, and I stared at all the cars in front of us. An idea hit me, and I spun around to face him.
“Where’s your car?”
He blinked, looking confused, although it might have been from the coke we’d been snorting. I was still buzzing from it, my skin tingling and hot, every part of me aching and hungry for just…more.
More of everything.
More of life.
“My car?”
“Yes.” Biting my lip, I moved toward him and caught the front of his shirt in my hands. “We can do it in your car. On your car. Whichever.”
He laughed as he cupped my face in his hands. “Pretty little college school girl…you look so nice and sweet, and you want me to fuck you on the hood of my car?”
“I am nice.” Miffed, I sniffed up at him, not sure what sex and not being nice—or being nice—had to do with each other.
“Then why do you want to do it out here instead of inside?”
Pressing myself against him, I smiled. “Because it makes sense. Too many people inside, no rooms. No people out here…plenty of cars.” I kissed him then, felt the heat of his penis against me as he picked me up. Wrapping my legs around him, I added, “And now we’re both out here. Can you think of a better reason?”
“Hell no.”
It wasn’t his car that we ended up in, but I wasn’t going to complain.
The bed of the truck next to his car was bigger—and apparently, he knew who owned it, because he unearthed a blanket from inside the cab. Now, with the cool, late spring air on my skin, I trailed my lips down the hard muscle of his chest, smiling up at him all the while.
“If you’re going to keep teasing me…” He tangled his hand in my hair and guided my head lower. “You better follow through.”
I laughed, thought about teasing him some more, but decided against it. He was fun. Sweet, even, compared to a lot of the guys I’d met over the past year.
We’d already been eying each other off and on for the past few weeks.
Why tease either of us anymore at this point?
His belly was warm and his hands urgent as he guided me down. I opened my mouth and took his cock inside, slowly. After all, I was done with the teasing, but that didn’t mean we had to rush. Of course, Maverick wasn’t in the mood for slow and easy.
He groaned and arched up. I eased back, eyes watering, and he grimaced. “Sorry, baby… I just…”
“It’s okay.” I went down on him again, easing deeper and he rocked up, more careful this time.
His cock was hot and smooth, and I felt the pulsation against my tongue.
Pulling away, I evaded his hands and threw my leg over his hips.
“You don’t get to have all the fun.”
“I’ll show you fun,” he said in a mock growl.
I whooped as he flipped me over and spread my thighs. The entry was rough, more than I wanted really, but I was wet and he was, too, thanks to my mouth, and after a few awkward twists, it felt better. I smiled up at him. “In a hurry?”
“Only because you’re trying to drive me nuts.”
He kissed me, and it was nice. Sweet, almost.
Curling my arms around his neck, I pressed my face to his skin, breathing in the warm scent again, shivering a little. “More, Mav…”
He didn’t have to be asked twice, and he thrust into me, breaths coming hard and fast.
“Are you going to come?”
The words, like it was something I could do on command, startled me out of the fog of pleasure that had been slowly washing in.
“Ah…”
“Here.”
Here…?
Then I blinked, surprised, then heat flooded through me when he slid a hand down between us, circling my clit. That was…nice. Better than nice. If he’d just… Biting my lip, I covered his hand with mine. “Like this…”
“You got it, baby.”
Moments later, I was breathing just as hard as he was, my skin feeling too tight, the pleasure too big, and it exploded out of me just as he jerked out and came all over my belly.
I cried out, frustrated, and he slid two fingers inside me to finish me off. “Sorry, Maya. No rubber…I…”
I was blind and deaf to the rest. Coming like this wasn’t as good, but it was better than nothing.
Besides, if I thought about the words rubber too hard I wouldn’t float down from my high.
I’d crash, and hard.
It was nice, at least. Not as nice as it had been, but nice enough…still.
With the way my hands were shaking and m
y head spinning, it took a lot longer than I’d expected to get myself back to together. We’d fumbled most of our clothes out of the way, so at least I didn’t have to explain awkward stains on my blouse.
I’d used my panties to clean myself up the best I could.
Maverick had taken them with a sly smile and tucked them into his pocket. I was blushing, just thinking about it.
Blushing…and shivering.
I knew why I had the shakes. I didn’t do coke that much, but coming down off a high sucked. Maybe that was why I didn’t do it all that much. I loved the buzz, but coming down was awful.
Teeth chattering, I wrapped my arms around myself and turned to find Maverick waiting at the foot of the truck, the tailgate down so I could slide out.
I smiled at him.
He really was a sweet guy.
“You ready to go back inside?” I asked hopefully. I wanted to warm up. And maybe Caitlyn would have something to smooth the edges of the crash. She usually did.
Frowning at the thought, I ignored my gut telling me I was taking the easy way out. In the morning, I knew I’d still have to pay the piper, but in that moment, I just didn’t care.
I was cold and shaking and needed something.
“Nah,” Maverick said, stretching his arms over his head before giving me a huge smile. “This place…it’s about played out. I got a friend, though. Someplace we can go. There’s always a party there. You wanna?”
I glanced back at the house. Thought about Caitlyn.
A shiver raced through me, and Maverick came up to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me. “Poor baby. You’re cold. Come on. We can sit in the car and talk about it. You wanna maybe call your friend? See if she wants to come?”
“You’re so sweet.” Nodding, I let him guide me around the car, and I climbed in. It wasn’t much warmer in there, but I was out of the wind. Maybe it wasn’t that cold. Maybe it was me.
Maybe it was the drugs.
But Maverick let me curl up against him, and he played with my hair and talked about his friend and nothing and everything all at once.
“So you wanna go?”
Looking up at him, I smiled.
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Slow down!” I shouted at Maverick even as a giggle escaped me. His car clung to the roads like a spider, moving fast and certain, and I had an image that it was a spider—we were a part of it and were all but flying down the dark streets.
A pair of headlights appeared in the black ahead of us.
I sucked in a breath. “Okay, now you really need to slow down.”
He swerved to the right, one hand coming to rest on my thigh. “I got this, baby. My reflexes are—”
The car veered over into our lane.
I tensed.
“Maverick!”
He slammed on the brakes and it threw me forward, my weight driving me against the seat belt I’d put on out of instinct—all because my mother’s voice had nagged me time after time after time: Always wear your seat beat, Maya. I don’t care how pretty your dress is or how badly you don’t want to wrinkle that skirt. Wear the seat belt.
I heard thunder and screaming—the metal.
It was the metal.
And Maverick.
He was screaming, too.
Then he wasn’t.
When the door opened and my parents rushed in, I started to cry.
I couldn’t help it.
The doctors wouldn’t tell me anything about Maverick or the other car. The nurses wouldn’t tell me anything.
And then with my mother and father there, everything exploded out of me and I held up my arms for Mom.
She sat down next to me and wrapped her arms around me, rocking me in her warm embrace.
“Baby. You’re okay.”
I shook my head, sniffling.
“What…are you…honey, what’s wrong? The doctors said you were just bruised and banged up,” she said, pulling back and studying me.
“They…they…” I had to gulp to get the words out. “They won’t tell me about the others. Maverick. The other driver. I want to know what’s going on.”
She sighed, the faintest lines on her pretty face deepening ever so slightly. “Your father and I will find out. We needed to see you first.”
She eased up and my father took her place, hugging me, and I pressed my face to his side, breathing in the scent of peppermint and his shaving cream. It reminded me of home, of curling up in his lap while he told me a story. I wanted to go back there. Just for a minute. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry…”
“It was an accident,” he murmured.
But then the door opened. There was a short, perfunctory knock, but no chance to respond, and my dad stiffened at the rudeness of it. My dad was old-school gentleman propriety. People knock and then they wait for an invitation to enter.
But maybe nobody told the cops that.
I swallowed, fear beating inside me at the sight of them.
They caught sight of my dad, then my mother and nodded.
“We need to speak to your daughter, sir.”
“I already said I’m sorry!” I shouted.
My head was spinning.
Maverick had been thrown from the car. His leg was crushed. They were talking about possible amputation—I swallowed in horror because I knew what that meant. He was a football player, already had pro scouts talking to him.
But not now.
It was all over now.
“This isn’t about you being sorry,” my father replied, voice calm. He’d moved past the anger. James Cruz was a passionate man—my mother loved to make sure I knew that—but he was also a man in control of his emotions, especially ones like anger.
She also liked to tell me that I was so much like him…except for the control part.
Right now, I felt like I was flying out of control, and I wished I had even a tenth of his reserve. A hundredth.
“What else do you want me to do, then?!” I asked, dashing at the tears. I felt guilty and angry and scared. The cops wanted to arrest me. “The drugs weren’t mine, Dad!”
“They were in your purse.”
I wanted to scream. Caitlyn. She’d told me she didn’t want to carry anything into the party that wouldn’t fit into the tiny little pockets of her skinny jeans, and I’d let her put her wallet and other things in my purse. It had been locked in the trunk. There was no way I could prove the cocaine wasn’t mine.
“Daddy…”
“I’m going to handle this.” He held up a hand, his handsome face looking haggard and tired.
The guilt stabbed at me even more, and I curled my arms around my middle. I went to nod and say thank you.
They always took care of me.
“But you won’t see Caitlyn again.”
I jerked up my head.
“That’s not fair.”
“A boy is in the hospital. His entire future is in shatters. Caitlyn is innocently claiming she knows nothing about the cocaine you say she put in your purse. You and Maverick are looking at drug charges. There are a lot of things in life that aren’t fair,” James Cruz said, staring down his sharp, straight nose at me. “Wake up and accept that fact.”
I flinched. It was like he’d reached across and slapped me.
It pissed me off so I threw my hair back—and immediately, I wished I hadn’t. I hurt all over from the wreck. The seatbelt had kept me safe, but it was still sore, and my neck was killing me. Still, after I’d sucked back the gasp of pain, I glared at my dad. “I’m nineteen, not nine. You can’t tell me whom I can and cannot see.”
“True.” He gave me a thin smile. “But here’s one thing I can do: I can take your car. I’ll contact the school and let them know you’ll have to find another way to pay for the upcoming school year, because I’m not financing you—and it’s a little late to apply for scholarships.”
“You can’t do that! Mom!” I turned to her, but she was staring out the window, not looking at me. I sincerely
doubted there was anything out in the hospital parking lot at four a.m. that kept her so fascinated.
That meant…she was okay with this.
They’d already discussed this.
“Daddy…”
“No.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what it did to us, baby, getting that phone call. It could be you lying in a bed while the doctors try to figure out if they can save your leg or not. It could have been you who was scraped up into a body bag.”
The other driver had been drunk. And he was dead, his little toy car folding around him like so much plastic.
“You’re lucky you weren’t driving. You’re lucky you were able to give a clear statement to the cops. My friends at the DA tell me it’s possible that Maverick will only get sentenced to rehab and parole, since he wasn’t the one on the wrong side of the road. But one life ended tonight. Another is in ruins—and I’m not talking about yours.” He took a few steps closer and said, “And if you hadn’t been high, you wouldn’t have been in that car. Maybe he wouldn’t have decided to leave and go look for another party. Maybe none of this would have happened.”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault.” I blinked back the burn of tears.
“Some of it? Yes.” He gave a decisive nod. “You let Caitlyn have too much control over you, baby. And it’s going to stop. If you decide to continue your relationship with her, then you’ll be…” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Completely on your own. You’ll have to move out. Find a new place to live, a way to pay for it. Your mother and I can’t do this.”
I laughed brokenly. “Wow. Talk about tough love.”
“If we didn’t love you, we wouldn’t be here,” Mom said gently. She turned and looked at me. “After all…Caitlyn isn’t here. The cops had to question her at home. Even when they told her you were in the hospital.”
I sucked in a breath.
“Caitlyn…” Now I really felt lost.
Lost and cut adrift.
“No. She’s not here. And neither are Maverick’s parents. They said they’d be in once the decision was made about surgery.” My mother offered a thin smile. “I shouldn’t know any of this, of course. But…”
She lifted a shoulder and looked away. My mom had her ways. She always found things out.
