“I wonder why.”
I open my mouth and shut it a few times.
“Goodbye, Maverick. I love you. I’ll pray for you.”
I laugh. “Love you, Mami.”
She hangs up and I stand there, staring at the cup of water in front of me. I love Rocky, but she’s my best friend. If I lose her friendship, what will I really be left with? I decide this is probably a better subject to talk to my brothers about. I love my mom, but what does she know about relationships? She’s been married to the same person for like thirty years. I look at the time again. Nine-thirty. Jagger’s definitely awake, but he has a game today, and I’m not going to be the reason my professional football-playing brother is distracted, so I’m definitely not calling him. Mitchell is definitely not awake yet. Not on a Sunday. It’s really the only day we sleep in. Except for me, apparently, today. I need to keep busy and not call Rocky just yet. She’s always my go-to when it comes to things. Unfortunately, I can’t really talk to her about this without disclosing my feelings and I don’t think I can do that just yet.
Chapter Sixteen
RockY
I shoot the crumpled napkin into the wastebasket and wait to make sure I made it in before turning and walking toward the theatre. I already spoke to my parents, who are also getting ready to watch Mortal Kombat. This was definitely not my first choice, but Dad was really excited about it when he saw the trailer, and Mom and I went along with it because we’re usually the ones picking the movies and Dad never complains about it. My phone buzzes just as I sit down in the top middle row. The good thing about catching a movie right when they open on a Sunday is that the only people who are there are parents with small children and me and a lot of the time it’s just me. I pull out my phone and see a text from Maverick.
Mav: What movie are you watching?
I frown, then type, Mortal Kombat. What are you doing up?
Mav: What theatre? Number 2 or 4?
Me: 2. Are you here?
I wait for a response, but it doesn’t come. Instead, I see a really tall guy wearing a backward baseball cap walk in and head up the stairs until he reaches my row.
“What are you doing here?”
“Watching Mortal Kombat.”
“You hate the movies.”
“I like popcorn.” He shrugs a shoulder and sits beside me. He has a huge bucket of popcorn in one hand and a matching soda cup.
“You don’t even drink soda.”
“It’s water in a big-ass cup.”
“Oh.” I frown. “I hope you didn’t pay for that.”
“Are drinks free?” He sets it in the cupholder opposite of me.
“When it’s water from the machine.”
“Damn.”
I shake my head because how does he not know that? The lights dim low and the previews start playing. I stretch out my legs as Maverick fiddles with his seat, setting it to recline like mine.
“Who picked Mortal Kombat?”
“Are you seriously going to talk during previews?” I glance over.
“It’s just previews. It’s not the actual movie.”
“I think I know what previews are, Mav.” I roll my eyes. “How am I supposed to know whether or not I want to watch a movie if I don’t see the previews?”
“You can watch them on YouTube.”
“Are you trying to be offensive?”
“No.” He chuckles. “I’m offending you?”
“Yes.”
“You got a problem with previews on YouTube?”
“I got a problem with you talking during the fucking previews.” I narrow my eyes. “Why are you here? You never answered.”
“To see a movie.”
“A movie.” I shake my head. “You didn’t even know what movie I was watching until you got here. How’d you know I was even here?”
“It’s one o’clock on a Sunday. Where else would you be?”
I sit back in my seat and look at the screen again. It’s interesting to me that he doesn’t even think me going home with Brian and still being at his place is a possibility and for some reason that pisses me off. He probably had Rebecca at the house and got rid of her this morning and then got bored and for some wild reason decided to come here. I swallow.
“I went home with Brian. I could’ve still been at his place,” I say and hope he doesn’t hear the massive lie in that statement.
“You stayed at the frat house?” Mav asks after a moment.
“Yep.”
“Hm.”
“How was your date?”
“It was great. We really hit it off and connected. We’re going out again soon.”
“Hm.” I cross my arms.
“Why is it that every time I bring her up you act like you don’t like her?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I swallow, squeezing my arms just a little tighter across my chest before uncrossing them all together and setting a hand on the armrest between us.
Maverick doesn’t say anything to that and I begin breathing a little easier as I watch the rest of the previews. Maybe he’ll leave it alone. I probably shouldn’t have told him that I stayed with Brian last night. It’s not like he doesn’t have ways of finding out, considering they play on the same damn team. Dammit, Rocky. That was dumb. Oh well. The movie starts and I completely relax and let the thoughts of Brian and Rebecca and Maverick drift away as I focus on the screen in front of us.
“You think we’ll have the theatre all to ourselves?” Maverick whispers after a while. “That’s wild.”
“The fact that you’re still trying to have a conversation with me is wild.”
“Sorry.” He picks up his bucket of popcorn and starts eating, then sets the bucket in front of me. “Want some?”
“No, thank you.”
As the movie continues to play, we start laughing and Mav keeps his commentary to a minimum now that he’s invested. I’m completely engrossed in the movie when Maverick sets his hand on mine. It’s so sudden and unexpected that I jolt and sit upright.
“I . . . ” He takes his hand away and sits upright as well, the movement setting us front to front, much closer than we were before. I search his eyes. He searches mine. My heart is pounding uncontrollably.
“You what?”
“I don’t know. I just . . . I don’t know,” he says, his voice low.
He looks as nervous as I feel and he never looks nervous, which in turn makes me feel even more nervous. I swallow and lick my lips. His eyes drop to my mouth and he inches forward. There’s nothing in this world, no movie, no popcorn, no person, that can make me look away now, and as I take the initiative and get closer to him and our breath dances between us, I don’t know how I’ll find it in me to pull away from this. I don’t want to.
“Rocky.” His voice is a rough whisper that scrapes through me, tearing me open. I shift so that I’m on my knees now, facing him, the armrest the only thing keeping me from pouncing on him right now.
“Just fucking kiss me already,” I whisper, practically begging, because my mother taught me never to take initiative but damn it seems like such a dumb idea now.
His lips finally touch mine and if I thought my heart might beat out of my chest before, I was wrong, because it’s beating so fast and hard, I can barely breathe. I open my mouth to welcome his tongue, shivering when I feel it, moaning when one of his large hands comes up and cups my face to take control of this kiss, his other hand exploring the side of my arm, bringing goosebumps all over my body. It deepens quickly, this mistaken kiss that feels so right in spite of itself. I hook my leg over the seat and Maverick pulls me so that I’m straddling him, my stomach flipping at the feel of him between my legs, large and hard, and too good not to rock against.
“Fuck. Rocky.” He moans against me and breaks the kiss briefly, breathing heavily against me.
For a second, I think he may stop, but both hands grip my waist and he rocks against me, his mouth on the side of my neck, his tongue explo
ring. I grab a handful of his curls and continue moving against him as I lean forward and kiss his neck all the way up to the shell of his ear, licking it and tugging it into my mouth, eliciting another deep groan from him. He makes me feel wild and uninhibited, completely at odds with who I normally am, what I normally do. It’s terrifying and electric. Completely all-consuming.
“You need to stop, Rock. I can’t take it.” His voice is strained as he grips my hips so that I’m no longer grinding against his erection. We’re both panting now.
“But I don’t want to stop.”
“And I don’t want to fuck you in the back row of a movie theatre.”
“Why not?” I frown, pulling back slightly. “If I was Rebecca or Tina, Carissa, or Mauve you would.”
It’s embarrassing that I know the names of most of the women he’s fucked but it doesn’t matter right now because right now it feels like he’s turning me away after I was so ready to do more and . . . I shake my head, exhaling as I climb off his lap and go back to my seat.
“Rocky.”
“No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to finish watching the movie and go about my day and pretend that never happened.”
“Rocky.” He reaches for me.
“Stop.” I yank my hand and shoot him a glare. “Maybe you should learn to take a hint. I’m staying at Leyla’s for a reason. I come to the movies by myself for a reason.”
“Okay.” He pulls back, blinking slowly. After a moment, he grabs his popcorn and drink and stands up. “Enjoy your movie.”
I don’t watch him leave because my heart can’t handle more destruction right now, but once I’m sure he’s gone, I bury my face in my hands and start to cry.
“What’d you think?” Mom asks me when she calls me after the movie is over.
“It was whatever.”
“That’s what I said. Your father loved it, as expected.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I loved it, I said it was good,” Dad says. “Hi, Rocky.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothing,” I say, even though I know I definitely sound like I’m pouting.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Is it soccer?” Dad asks. “Is it your teammates?”
“What? No.” I scoff. “My teammates are awesome.”
“Is it a boy?” Mom asks, a knowing tone in her voice.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What boy?” Dad asks loudly, his Jamaican accent suddenly clear and pronounced.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”
“Well, you better start telling me his name so I know whose ass I need to knock.”
“Dad.”
“Mike. Stop.” That’s Mom. “Sweetheart, you do you. If you wanna talk about this, call me later.”
“Sure.” I sigh. I’ve been parked outside of the theatre for twenty minutes and I don’t know what to do next. I can’t go home and I don’t want to keep hiding out at Leyla’s, but I just might have to.
“Talk later then. If he hurts you, he’s dead,” Dad adds.
“Okay, Dad.” I laugh. “I love you guys. Bye.”
They say their goodbyes and I hang up the phone and head back to Leyla’s.
Chapter Seventeen
“There’s a party tonight and before you say no and tell me we already went to one last night, this is a mixer of sorts and Coach wants us to go.”
“Coach? When did she say this?”
“She emailed a little while ago.”
I look at Leyla. “Where is it and why? I feel like we’ve been to three of these mixers already.”
“I have no idea what to wear to this mixer,” Ashley says when she walks out of the room. “Do you know what we’re supposed to wear?”
“Little black dresses?” Leyla asks. “That’s what we wore last time.”
“You wore a black suit and converse,” I remind her.
“Right, because that’s my version of a little black dress.”
“Do you have to go home to get yours?” Ash asks. “We can do our makeup at your place on our way there.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea.”
When we step into the house, the new J Cole album is on at full-blast and Colson is walking around in nothing but his underwear, which, with the huge bulge, leaves very little to the imagination.
“Colson, what the hell? We have rules about this!” I shout.
“Yeah, Colson, what the hell?” Ashley raises an appreciative eyebrow and zones in on his dick.
“Ashley.” I nudge her.
“What?” She laughs.
“Sorry, you’re not my type, Ash.” Colson chuckles.
“I’m not your type? Everyone is your type.”
“None of Rocky’s friends are my type. I like to fuck and leave and that’s kind of impossible if you’re always hanging around my roommate.”
“Why are you parading around the house half-naked? We have rules about this,” I say.
“Mav told me you were staying with your friends, so I figured it was safe. How was I supposed to know you were coming home?”
“Can you lower the music?” Leyla shouts.
“I would, but it’s not my music. Mav is in his room with . . . someone, and I guess he doesn’t want us to hear what he’s doing.” Colson winks.
“Ew,” Ashley says.
“Gross,” Leyla adds.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter as I stomp to my bedroom, knowing my friends will follow, but not caring at the moment.
The rage starts in my chest and blooms as I get my things ready for the party. By the time I shower, I’m more upset than I was when I started. The music is off though, which means he’s done doing whatever he was doing. I think about the movie theatre just earlier today, about his lips on mine and his hands on my body, and I feel like vomiting when I envision him doing those things with someone else. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I shouldn’t have straddled him or let him touch me. I definitely shouldn’t have because at least before all of this I wasn’t sure about my feelings for him but now they’re clear. I’ve completely fallen for my best friend and I feel like a complete idiot for it. It’s not like I can escape him. I can’t stay at Leyla and Ashley’s forever. There’s no room for me there. Looking for another place isn’t an option. I don’t have the time or money to do that right now. I berate myself for the kiss again, and again, until I decide that there’s nothing I can do about it now except move forward and past it and leave it behind. Leyla and Ashley help me with my hair and makeup, Leyla straightens it, which I rarely do because it takes so much work to make my otherwise curly hair completely straight unless I go to a hair salon that’s equipped to handle it and I don’t have time or money for that either. Leyla’s good at this though. She was blessed with similar curls and raised with four sisters.
“Damn,” Ashley says, looking at me in the mirror. “You look fucking gorgeous, Rocky.”
“Look at how long your hair is! You should let me do this more often,” Leyla says, nodding her head slowly in appreciation. “You always look good but this is just . . . ” She lets her words trail and does a chef’s kiss.
“Thanks. I really do love it.” I look at myself in the mirror and don’t even see myself looking back at me.
I don’t even bother with coyness, because dammit, I look amazing. My makeup is completely overdone with the smoky eyes and fake lashes, but it looks so good. I feel sexy in my little black dress that’s tight and definitely way above my knees. My toned, muscular legs look extra defined in the sky-high heels I’m wearing, too—Jimmy Choo’s I borrowed from Ash.
“I feel like we’re going to need an after-party to go to,” Leyla says, looking at the three of us. “We look way too good to waste it on people we see all the time.”
“Agreed,” I say.
“Totally,” Ashley adds. “Reese—baseball Reese—is having a party at his place. The softball girls are going.”
“Fuck yea
h, sign me up for softball girls,” Leyla says, smiling wide. “Are you down, Barnes? Or are you going to be a Party Pooper Rex?”
I think about Maverick again and hold my head high. “I’m absolutely down. I’m so down that I’m getting drunk tonight.”
“Oooohhh,” they both say, making the three of us fall into a fit of laughter.
“Has one drink, gets drunk, the end,” Ashley adds.
“Fuck you. I can handle two drinks.” I laugh.
“We shall see.” Leyla takes a selfie of the three of us quickly and we walk out of my room.
“You took ten hours,” Colson says. He’s dressed in a black suit, black button-down, no tie, and black high converse. “But holy shit y’all look good.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
“Dude, your hair’s long as hell.” He walks over and touches it lightly. “So silky.”
“Thanks. My work here is done,” Leyla announces.
I hear a group of guys talking nearby and glance over to see Maverick, some of his teammates, and his brother Mitchell standing around the television where two of them are playing FIFA on the PlayStation. Maverick looks over, his eyes widening when he spots me. I feel my heart quicken as his eyes caress every inch of my body. When he meets my gaze again, I see the clear lust in his eyes as he licks his lips and says a quiet, “Damn.”
“Let’s go.” Ashley pulls my hand and I tear my attention away from Maverick and back to my friends.
“You sure you don’t want a shot before you go?” Colson’s pouring tequila in a slew of glasses and small plastic cups.
“I’ll take one.” I walk forward.
“Uh-oh, she wasn’t kidding about the drinking,” Leyla says.
“I told you.” I raise an eyebrow, take the glass from Colson, and the four of us take a shot together.
I shiver as the liquid runs through my veins and laugh when the three of them start poking at me about the drinking. I shoot one last glance in Maverick’s direction and find that he’s still staring at me, before I turn with my friends and leave. I should probably talk to him and apologize for earlier. I hate arguing with him and not clearing the air about things, but I’m also hurt right now, so I decide to sit with my feelings a little longer. At the end of the day, Maverick and I will always be in each other’s lives one way or another, but these emotions I feel for him are too strong to deny and too terrifying to name. I need to know what I’m going to say the next time I’m able to talk to him seriously so that I don’t hurt either one of us.
The Rulebreaker Page 7
