At that, I smile. Brian is really handsome and obviously a decent guy. Maybe he’ll be the one I finally lose my virginity to. Not that I’m in a huge rush. Okay, maybe I’m in a bit of a rush, but not enough to just sleep with whomever. I have a checklist. He has to be handsome, have nice breath, good hygiene, not burp in front of me like it’s no big deal and then laugh about it, be nice but maybe not too nice. Admittedly, my list kind of sucks, but it’s the only thing I know to stay away from or look for based on my limited experience. I hang out with as many guys as I do girls, but my guy friends haven’t given me any indication that they’re good boyfriends since the majority of them have never been in long relationships either.
Maverick dated a girl in high school, Madison, for two years. She was beautiful and smart and so nice, and he completely broke her heart when he broke up with her and they went to separate colleges. Not to say Mav wasn’t hurt by it as well. He was, but he moved on pretty quickly. He started dating Monica and then Tina and then Carissa. I still follow Madison on social media and she seems really happy now, but it took her a while to get back on her feet. I could tell. According to Mav, she’s been dating a guy for a little while, but they still text back and forth. I don’t know what that means. Part of me thinks if given the chance, he’d get back with her in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t blame him. Lord knows I would if I was in his shoes. She was a real catch. Not that I’m not, but it’s obvious he doesn’t see me that way, so that’s a nonstarter.
I continue sipping my tequila and ignoring them as they talk about hockey and their next game and how they’re going to beat Stanford.
“No way. Are you going over there or playing them here?” That’s Leyla.
“We go up next Thursday,” Colson says.
“So do we.” Leyla grins, looking over at me. “It is next Thursday, right?”
“Yep.”
“Well, shit, maybe we can hang out after the game,” Brian says. “I wonder if we’re sharing transportation.”
“There’s no better way of getting to know someone than sitting beside them on a long flight or bus ride,” Leyla adds with a wink. “Trust me, I know.”
“I bet you do.” I laugh and finish off my drink, setting it down on the bar.
“You wanna get out of here?” she asks me. “Peyton texted about a party.”
“Sure. Why not?” I shrug.
“You’re just going to leave?” Mav sidles up beside me.
“You’re with your boys. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“So? You always hang out with us.”
“I know and I was just thinking about the fact that we need to hang out less.”
“What?” He turns to me fully now, completely blocking everyone else from my vision. He really is a freaking powerhouse of a guy. “Why would we do that?”
“For starters, we already live together. We can hang out at home. And no one wants to talk to me when I’m with you, and the ones who do, you don’t let.” I purse my lips. “Like Brian, who had to ask me out when we were away from the table.”
“Brian?” Mav chuckles. “He’s not even your type.”
“My type? What even is my type?”
“Well, you dated that guy Mike with the surfer dude vibe.”
“Mike.” I shake my head with a laugh. “We literally dated for two months. I can’t believe you even remember him.”
“And Danny. He was nice enough.”
“Another guy I only dated for a month.”
“That’s your thing though.” Mav shrugs. “You’re a short-term dater. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“A short-term dater?”
“Yeah. You date a guy, he doesn’t make you happy, so you cut your losses and move on. It’s smart.”
“That’s . . . ” I shake my head. “Okay.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I take a breath and start walking over to Leyla.
I’ve never really thought about it in those terms, probably because that’s not what happens at all. What normally happens is that I start dating a guy, he wants to move way too fast, and they start acting uninterested. Sometimes they break up with me, other times I cut it off before they get a chance to. It’s never a case of me moving on because they don’t make me happy.
“How are you going to give me lessons in what girls want if we don’t hang out?”
“You clearly do not need my help in that department.”
“We can help each other.”
I laugh. “How would you help me?”
“I can tell you what guys want and you can tell me what girls want.”
“Guys want sex. Easy.”
“Some guys want more than just sex.” He says this with the most serious expression on his face.
“That’s all you and Colson ever want.”
“Because I haven’t met the right girl.”
“What about Rebecca?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Well, maybe I’ve met the right girl but haven’t made my move yet.” He sighs heavily. “I need to know what I’m doing wrong.”
“For starters, you’re not asking anyone out on actual dates. You’re just taking them home and fucking them and then ghosting them. I can’t imagine anyone would take you seriously after that treatment.”
“Fair.” He flinches. “That’s why I need help.”
“Stop taking girls home that you don’t think have potential.” I shrug.
“Fine.”
“Okay. That’s step one.” I reach up and he instantly lowers his face so I can kiss him on the cheek. “See you later.”
“Be careful. Call me if you need me to go pick you up or whatever.”
“Okay, Dad,” Leyla says, rolling her eyes. She links her arm with mine as we walk away. “I swear he hasn’t stopped looking at you tonight. It’s almost like he can’t fathom that you’re this hot and just sitting right under his nose.”
“Maverick?” I shoot her a look. “You’re insane. He sees me as a little sister. Don’t you see how he’s acting because Brian asked me out?”
“Like a jealous man.”
“Or an older brother.” I raise an eyebrow.
“How would you know? You don’t have an older brother.”
I nod. Very true. Maverick is the closest thing I have to an older brother and he’s definitely not that, at least not in my mind, at least not anymore. Freaking hormones.
Chapter Five
Maverick
“She is so hot. I can’t believe you have never introduced us,” Brian says. “Or maybe I can. I guess if you want a piece of that.”
“Don’t.” I shoot him a glare that makes his eyes go wide. “Don’t talk about Rocky like that. She’s not a piece of anything.”
She’s the whole damn thing, I want to say, but don’t. It would make me look like I’m cockblocking or interested and I’m not. I’ve had a crush on Rocky for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never let myself entertain the thought that maybe there could be more than friendship there, not because I’m not attracted to her or think she’s the coolest girl in the world. I just don’t want to mess with our friendship. That was a decision I made when I was fifteen years old and stick by even now. It would complicate everything. I love her parents. She loves mine. Mine loves hers. I mean, we’ve spent holidays together. We’ve gone on trips together. I’ve stayed over at her house and vice versa. If her father found out I was interested in his daughter in that way he’d have my head, and as much as I love Mike, I’d never disrespect him like that. Or his daughter. I can’t deny that the thought of her dating one of my teammates hurts though. Brian’s a cool guy, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Rocky. She’s worth anyone’s weight in gold.
“Yo.” Colson hits my chest. “You wanna ride?”
“Where?”
“A party.”
I look over at Brian, who’s texting on his phone. “Are you coming?”
“Sure.” He doesn’t look up from his phone. “I’ll follow you.”
<
br /> “Why don’t we just invite them to the house?” Colson says, looking at his own phone. “It’s Laura, Mel, and Kayti. They’re with some other friends. We have Brian and Chase.” Colson frowns and stops walking. “Did we lose Chase?”
“I don’t know how the fuck anyone would lose the giant.” I look around and spot Chase in the back by the bathrooms talking to a blonde, and tap Colson so he looks where I’m looking.
“Yeah, he’s not leaving,” Brian says. “Unless he brings her along.”
“We’ll meet at our place,” Colson says. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Let me call Mitch, he might have a keg.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and call my brother.
He and his friends always have an extra keg, and if they don’t, they always know where to find one. He answers fast and sounds out of breath.
“I don’t even wanna know,” I say, shaking my head.
“What? I was running.” He chuckles.
“Running. Right.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. Mitchell is the exact person who would answer the phone when he’s fucking someone without a care in the world. I know because it’s happened and I still haven’t gotten over it.
“Whatever. You can ask Misty if you want.”
“Oh, you’re with Misty? Then I know you’re definitely not running.”
“Fuck you.”
I laugh. Misty is a girl he dated back in high school and still hasn’t gotten over. With good reason. She’s the three Fs: hot as fuck, smart as fuck, and funny as fuck. She’s also never giving him the light of day again, apparently. He’s been trying and failing to hook up with her for five years. Now they’re hanging out because of some assignment or something and they’re spending more time together than ever, but I can tell my brother’s balls are bluer than a damn Smurf. It would be funny if I couldn’t relate, living with Rocky and all. Not that Rocky leads me on. Or touches me. But sometimes, she looks at me with these bedroom eyes and I swear my heart stops beating all together.
“What do you want?” he asks, still obviously bothered.
“I need a keg.”
“Or two,” Colson says beside me.
“Hell no. Last time I hooked you up with a keg you destroyed that hotel room and I felt responsible.”
“I paid for it.”
“No, Dad paid for it.”
“I paid Dad back every cent.”
“How?” Mitchell sounds genuinely curious. “You don’t have a job.”
“You know I have side hustles.”
He’s quiet for a long time. “You’re not selling drugs, are you?”
“What the fuck?” I stop walking for a second. “Why in the world would I be selling drugs? You want Mom to kill me or something?”
Colson laughs beside me, shaking his head. “Momma’s boy.”
I bring my hand up and show him my middle finger. “Can you get us the keg or not?”
“Give me fifteen minutes.” Mitch sighs heavily into the phone. “This is for your house?”
“Yeah.”
“You need to keep it in the yard. And not destroy that fucking house. That’s an original Craftsman home from the thirties. Mom would—”
“Mitchell, can you shut up and just get what I asked and go to my house? We’re not savages.”
“Right.” He scoffs. “Except you kind of are.”
“We will not destroy anything.” I take a deep breath before I hang up the phone. “Invite Misty.”
“I take it that’s a yes?” Colson asks.
“Yeah, he had to give me a whole speech about not destroying anything.”
“Fuck that. Your parents will kill us if anything gets destroyed. Again. We need to keep everyone in check.”
“That’s what happened last time,” I say.
“Don’t invite Reuben.”
“So we can hear him bitch about it for the next week?”
“I don’t care. You want Reuben in our house?”
“No.”
I don’t even want Brian in our house, but that’s for a different reason and I refuse to go down that road.
Chapter Six
Rocky
I’m almost home when I finally look at my phone and find a text and missed call from Maverick.
Mav: Heads up: we’re having a party at the crib
“I hate when people say crib,” Leyla says beside me. “What is this? The year two-thousand?”
“Stop reading my texts.” I roll my eyes and put my phone away. “They’re supposed to consult me before they throw parties.”
“Oh, come on, Barnes, it’s just one party.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”
She sets her head against my shoulder. “Totally drunk. You should be drunk too.”
“Someone needs to stay vigilant.”
“If I ever have a daughter, I want her to be like you.” She sighs. “Such a good girl.”
I roll my eyes, but smile. Most of the time, I hate being called a good girl. I hate being the one who never gets drunk or high or walks on the wild side. I hate being the prude and Goody-Two shoes who has virtual dates with her parents on Sundays at the movies. I didn’t always hate those things about myself, but being here, where I see my friends let loose and do all of the things they won’t be able to do later in life, I realize that I’ve been missing out on so much. The problem is, the good girl thing isn’t an act and it’s tough to shed. I think that’s why I’m so good at soccer. I immersed myself in it from early on and leave everything out on the pitch. I exhaust myself in training, in practice, in games, so that by the time I get home, I just focus on studying and getting rest. Mom doesn’t like it. She says I definitely need to live a little. Dad has always been strict, so he obviously loves the way I am.
When the Uber pulls up in front of my house, my mouth drops. Leyla picks her head up from my shoulder with a gasp.
“Oh my God,” we say in unison. “What the hell?”
“I’m going to kill them,” I say under my breath as I exit the Uber and hold Leyla’s hand to make sure she doesn’t fall.
“I’ll help you,” she says. “I cannot believe they didn’t talk to you about this.”
We stay frozen on the sidewalk, on the edge of the lawn that is always meticulously kept, thanks to the landscaper that Maverick’s mom hired. The house is a huge old-school Craftsman, with a porch and thick wood columns painted white. The house itself is a mix of gray rocks and white wooden planks. It’s dreamy and right off Franklin Street, which makes it extremely coveted. Before I was accepted here, I had no idea what a gem this was, but after a year of being here, when Maverick’s old roommate moved out and he asked me if I wanted to move in, I jumped at the chance.
The bars are here, the Greek life is here, every single rich parent who’s an alumnus comes back for home games and has fancy barbecues on their fancy lawns. Basically, it’s a dream, and it currently has at least forty people spilling out of the house and onto the lawn. If it’s this crowded here, I can’t imagine how it is inside or in the yard. My heart speeds up. My room. I grab Leyla’s hand even tighter and start marching up the walkway, shouldering past people as we walk into the house. The living room is crowded, the lights are completely off, and there’s a freaking DJ with a smoke machine and strobe lights. I shut my eyes for a second and try to stop the impending meltdown I feel coming on. This is Colson and Maverick’s house as much as it is mine. More, really. Mav’s parents own the place and are letting us live here rent-free, despite Colson and I trying to pay them. It’s not my place. I’m just happy to be here. I repeat those things on loop and take a deep breath as I open my eyes. If they want to have a party, that’s fine. It doesn’t mean I have to partake.
“You good?” Leyla asks beside me.
“I’m good.” I glance over at her. “Are you staying?”
“I’m tired.” She yawns. “We have practice in the afternoon tomorrow.”
“You can crash in my ro
om.”
“Nah. I think I’m going to grab a water bottle and head out.”
“I’ll walk with you.” I walk beside her to the kitchen, dodging dancing guys and swaying girls.
As we walk into the kitchen, I spot Mitchell. There’s a group of girls swarming around him, but he’s hard to miss, with his height and wide smile. He’s wearing a backward baseball cap, his wavy hair brushing against his neck. I always thought he was the hottest Cruz brother of the three, with his piercing green eyes and caramel complexion. The three of them are hot, I mean, the oldest, Jagger, is super-hot, but there’s something about Mitch that always stood out to me. Even before the three of them had that crazy growth spurt in high school that shaped them into what they are today, I always thought he was the cutest one. That is, until this stupid crush on Maverick started. I beeline over to Mitch, shouldering through the girls. He lowers the beer bottle in his hand and quirks an eyebrow at me. Seriously. Hot. And another Cruz family member who only sees me as a little sister.
“Damn, Little One.” Mitch eyes me up and down. “You’re looking . . . not like yourself tonight. What’s the occasion? Hot date?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “Where is your idiot brother?”
“Out back.” Mitch chuckles, then turns serious. “Did he not run this by you?”
“He did not.”
“Oh shit. I’ll take you to him.” Mitch walks away from the girls, not even bothering to say anything as he leads the way to his little brother. “I would tell you to go easy on him, but he needs to be held accountable for something.” He chuckles.
The Cruz brothers are super close. When Jagger was still going to school here last year, before he signed an NFL contract, the three of them were inseparable. Always at dinner together, at bars, at parties. On the rare occasion they weren’t together, they were still keeping up with the others’ whereabouts. I’m an only child, so hanging around them is the closest I’ve ever gotten to having siblings, which is another reason I shouldn’t be thinking about how hot either of them are. At six foot six, Maverick towers over most of the crowd. Colson is the only one who stands at his height, and he’s a few feet away, his tongue down some girl’s throat. Mav has a finger hooked into the belt loop of the jeans of the girl gazing up at him dreamily and he looks like he’s about to meet the same fate as Colson. She’s pretty, too, dark blonde hair, great body, easygoing smile. I watch as he leans down and kisses her gently. It makes my blood boil, but I try not to show it.
The Rulebreaker Page 3
