“What are they doing here?” I ask as we both step in, and Maverick lets the sheet fall back into place.
“I’m not sure. Maybe outdoor seating.”
“Oooh, that’ll be nice.” I picture it—sitting outside studying or chatting with the girls. That makes me think of Sienna not being there, and my heart hurts again.
When I turn to face him, Maverick’s gaze is pinned on me. Like earlier, he smirks, but his eyes are hard and swirl with emotion I can’t decipher. I’m blaming the shirt. This shirt was designed with college boys’ dirtiest fantasies in mind.
“Won’t they be able to see us with the light?”
“I don’t think so,” he says, staring out. From our side, it’s only darkness. “I couldn’t see the guys working yesterday when they were in here.”
“Go outside and tell me if you can see me.”
The sheet makes a crinkling noise as he steps to the other side.
“Anything.” I wave my hands at my side.
“Little bit of movement, but when you stand still, I can’t see anything.”
“What about now.” I step closer to the plastic but keep my hands next to my body.
“No.”
One step closer so that I’m almost standing directly against it. “Now?”
He chuckles. “No. Can I come back in before they spot me standing out here?”
I glance at my phone. “They shouldn’t have left yet.”
“Yeah, well, they’re all going to be anxious to find us and go back and bang.”
“And you’re not? Vanilla might have found another set of abs to go home with by now.”
“I’m coming back in.”
“Wait,” I order. His footsteps outside stop. Curling my fingers around the bottom of my shirt, I roll the fabric up. The breeze buds my nipples, and I smile at the daring move knowing he’s clueless. “Anything?”
His response is delayed, and I panic for a second, thinking maybe he can see me.
“Nah, nothing, babe.”
The light flickers above me, brightening and then dimming again. Quickly, I right my shirt and pull back the plastic separating us. “I think we’re all good.”
Mav and I sit side by side against the library wall. He pulls out a bottle of Mad Dog from his jeans pocket and offers me a drink. Humoring him, I take a small sip before handing it back.
“I’ll never understand why that’s your drink of choice.”
“It’s sweet and sticky.” He winks and caps the bottle, then sets it between us. “Actually, I drink it because it pisses my dad off.”
“Why does it piss him off?”
“It isn’t exactly the kind of alcohol you serve at a black-tie function.”
“Let me guess.” I find myself smiling. “You would sneak it in just to get a rise out of him?”
He doesn’t answer, but his expression says everything.
The wind blows my hair around my face, and I tuck it behind my ears and then hug my knees to my chest. Despite the warm weather during the day, the night air is chilly.
“When are you leaving?” I ask, keeping my voice low in case our friends are now looking for us.
“Not sure.” He bends his legs and rests his elbows on his thighs. “You’re staying all summer?”
“Looks like it,” I say glumly. “I got another ‘so sorry we’ve gone with another candidate’ letter today from an internship I applied for.” The last one. I’m officially out of options.
“There’s gotta be something out there.”
“I’ve tried. I applied all over Arizona, and anywhere I thought my car could make it without breaking down. Either it’s unpaid, or it’s so coveted that they have their pick of the best candidates.”
“You’re the best candidate,” he says.
“Thanks,” I mumble. My grades are good, but since I quit track, the only other selling points of my resume are intramural spikeball champion and working at the Hall of Fame. It’s a great job, but at this point, I could do it in my sleep.
The phone in my hand lights up with a dating app notification. Wyd, sexy?
“I literally cannot.” I groan. It’s the last straw. I swipe the screen angrily and delete the app off my phone.
Mav’s upper body shakes, and he smiles, holding back laughter. “I take it online dating isn’t going well?”
“Every single conversation I’ve had goes the exact same.” I lower my voice. “Hey, girl. What are you doing? Wanna exchange pics?”
“I don’t trust online dating.”
“Afraid of being catfished?”
“Nah, it’s just a vibe when you’re with someone. You can’t know that through a few texts.”
He might be right about that. All I know, I feel nothing for these guys that I’m talking to. “Well, I’m done. Talking to guys is bullshit. Maybe you have the right idea. Hooking up, no feelings, and no chatting about hopes and dreams.” I glance up at him. He’s still staring at me, but he’s not laughing.
“It isn’t really like that.”
“What’s it like?” I humor him. “Tell me all your moves, Johnny Maverick.”
He stares at me intently. A small smile on his lips. Playful. Cocky. Charming.
Reaching out, his fingers push back the hair that’s blown into my face again. My breathing quickens as the calloused pads of his fingers scrape against the nape of my neck. He moves closer, and I swallow. The wind carries the sweet scent of liquor on his breath and something clean and masculine, his soap, I think.
For a split second, I think he’s going to kiss me. He doesn’t, of course. That would be crazy. Instead, he tilts his head to the side, eyes searching my face as his fingers are still on my collarbone spreading warmth across my skin and low into my belly.
The light flickers above us, and I quickly look up. I don’t know why, reaction, I guess. When I drop my gaze, he pulls back, and then Rhett’s voice slices through the night. “There they are. Behind the plastic.”
“They found us.” I’m thankful for something to say that breaks the awkwardness between us, but then Rhett’s words register. Really register. Oh my god. I turn to Mav, and he bites his bottom lip, and his eyes dip to my chest.
He totally saw when I flashed him.
4
Dakota
The following morning, I’m up making my morning smoothie an hour later than normal, thanks to the late-night party.
Life hack, a jug of protein powder, and a tub of peanut butter will feed you for weeks. Also, it’s cheap when you factor in the number of meals for the price.
I’m not exactly destitute, but money is tight. I have student loans that pay for school and the apartment, but my Hall of Fame money has to cover everything else.
Reagan stayed at Adam’s apartment, so ours is quiet. I take my drink to the couch and pick up my phone. Out of habit, I look for the dating app, then remember I deleted it. I toss my phone on the cushion. It is better this way. I was going to end up on one of those TV shows for women who snapped if one more guy asked me if I was DTF after the second text exchange.
A knock at the door gets me up, and I don’t even question who it is. You never know around here. But Maverick is the last person I expected as I pull the door wide.
“Hey. What are you doing here?”
He does a quick scan of me. I’m still in a tank top, no bra, and running shorts, and he isn’t bashful about soaking up every inch of bare skin.
“I have a proposition for you.” His deep voice rumbles down my spine.
I step back to let him come in, then cross my arms over my chest to conceal how much my nipples seem to like his voice and the way he scopes me out.
“Propositioning a girl this soon after one left your apartment is a bold move,” I say as I grab a sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch and pull it on. I sit, and he does too.
“Not that kind of proposition.”
I note that he doesn’t try to deny he took Vanilla home again last night. Whose name, I s
adly learned, is Claudia, and now I feel bitchy calling her Vanilla. Shame. It was so catchy.
I angle my body to face him now that he can’t see my nipples saluting him. “What’s up?”
“How would you like to intern with the Wildcats this summer?”
“The Wildcats? As in the professional hockey team located in Minnesota?”
“That’s the one.” His mouth curves up.
“I tried the Coyotes and the minor league team in town, too. My adviser said those internships get hundreds of applicants and fill up early. The Wildcats have spots still open?”
He runs a hand over his messy, dark hair. “Yeah. They’ve already interviewed a bunch of people, but Blythe said if you sent over your resume this morning, she’d take a look.”
“Blythe?”
“She’s the VP of marketing. Seems cool.”
My lips spread into a wide smile. It’s dumb to get my hopes up, not to mention all the logistics of an internship in freaking Minnesota, but I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach. “Really? You’re not screwing with me?”
“Not screwing with you. She’s waiting to hear from you. They’re a couple of hours ahead of us, so I wouldn’t wait too long.”
“You did this?”
“I just asked. I had to call and get some information this morning, anyway.”
I lunge forward and hug him. “Thank you, Johnny.”
A few seconds pass with me squeezing him before he returns the gesture. I feel his laughter and the words as he speaks them. “You’re welcome.”
I pull back, stunned and giddy at the prospect of getting out of Valley for the summer. I need a change of scenery.
I glance at my laptop on the coffee table. I want to grab it and look up everything I possibly can about the Wildcats and Blythe, but he’s still sitting here, and it feels rude after what he’s done. He must be able to tell, though, because he juts his chin and says, “Go. I have to get to class anyway.”
“Isn’t it kind of pointless to go to class now?”
“Nah.” He gives his head one quick shake. “I mean, yes, it’s probably pointless, but I want to soak it all up before I leave.” His hand falls to my thigh, and he squeezes. “Text me later and let me know how it goes?”
“Absolutely.”
Within five minutes of emailing my resume to Blythe, I get a call from the woman herself.
Reagan’s back home and she smiles at me from the kitchen while I talk to Blythe. I love her. She’s already my hero: twenty-nine and the VP of marketing for an NHL team.
“The internship is eight weeks, working here in the main office. We try to give you opportunities in all areas, from selling tickets to creating content for our social media accounts.” The longer she speaks, the more excited I become.
“It sounds amazing. Seriously, it’s my dream job. I work at the university’s Hall of Fame doing tours now.”
“Johnny mentioned that. He also said we’d be crazy not to hire you.”
My laugh is stilted, and I cringe a little at what all he might have said. “He’s a good friend.”
“It sounds like it, but I also think he might be right. You have all the qualifications and ambitions I was hoping for, and, honestly, I just have a good feeling about you.”
“You do?” My smile widens, and I do a happy dance that she can’t see. Reagan giggles from the kitchen.
“What do you say? Do you want to work for the Wildcats this summer?”
“Oh my gosh. Yes. Yes!”
She laughs. “Perfect. I will let our human resources manager know we’ve filled our last spot, and she’ll send over some information on the dates, housing options, and probably a million other things I left out. She usually does these interviews, but she’s out today, and I wanted to talk to you before someone else pushed through another applicant.”
“Thank you. I am so excited. Truly. This is a dream come true.” I have no idea how I’m going to get there or how I’ll afford two apartments, but I’ll take a bus and live in a crappy budget motel if I have to. Speaking of, she didn’t mention the pay, and I’m embarrassed to ask, especially as she’s congratulating me and telling me that she can’t wait to meet me in person.
When we hang up, Reagan bounces over to me. “You got it?”
“I got it.” I bounce back. “I really got it.”
“I have to go to class, but I want to hear all of it again later.” She starts for the door and pauses with one foot outside. “Don’t forget, we’re moving our stuff upstairs to the new apartment tomorrow.” She hits me with a big grin again. “Ahh! I’m so excited for you. We are so celebrating later!”
The past few weeks have been one celebration after another, but I’m not complaining because this one is all about me.
My excitement lasts through my morning classes and into the afternoon as I lead a few tours at the Hall of Fame. That’s what I do—convince top recruits from all over the country to come to Valley University. I take them around the workout facilities and training rooms, to the field, sandpit, arena, or wherever their sport is played, and then I bring them into the hype room for the pièce de résistance.
The hype room is where we show these epic videos showcasing the current and past players. It’s different for each sport, but the vibe and the reaction are always the same. The setup alone is impressive. The circular space requires a code to get in and out and is completely soundproof. The screens take up every inch of the walls from top to bottom and three-quarters of the way around. The recruit and their family stand in the back, lights dim, and I just hit play. Okay, that isn’t all I do. I am knowledgeable on all kinds of important facts for every sport on campus, but this room has proven to be the deciding factor on more than one occasion.
And, no matter the sport (golf can look badass in a hype video, fight me) and no matter how many times I see the videos when the music starts and it begins to play, even I get caught up rewatching. I’m always a little awestruck by the athleticism and sense of team that these videos capture. Sometimes it even makes me miss the time I was a college athlete. They didn’t have the hype room four years ago when I came to tour Valley University and the track team, but I think I would have signed a lot sooner if they had.
I’m waiting for my last athlete, a tennis player named Natalie and her family, when the email from the Wildcats human resources department comes in.
I open it, barely registering most of the standard contract language, but the word unpaid jars me back to reality. Oh shit. I slow down and force myself to read it more carefully. Each word makes my smile fall and smacks me back to reality.
Eight weeks unpaid. I can’t go that long without a paycheck. I have some savings, but not much. And definitely not enough to do that and cover the housing and basic living expenses.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and force a smile as Natalie and her family walk through the doors. I better get used to it. It looks like I’m going to be right here all summer long.
I know I’m lucky, and I’m genuinely grateful for this job, but the thought of spending the next two months watching my friends fall even deeper in love with their boyfriends while I tag along like a fifth wheel makes me ache for something new and exciting, and all mine.
5
Johnny
Talking to my father is a little like playing hockey without pads. Everyone knows it’s a bad idea, but occasionally you’re fucking around, feeling lucky, and decide a quick no-hit game is fine. Everything is going great, and then all of a sudden, some asshole gets pissed and slams you into the boards, or you take a puck to the knee. You never see it coming, but after when you’re hobbling off in pain, you feel like an idiot for ever considering the idea.
My dad isn’t an asshole. At least he doesn’t mean to be. I don’t think. To be honest, I don’t know him well enough to be the best character reference. Our conversations are few and far between. What I do know? I always hobble away feeling like an idiot.
“Did you get the sample
s?” I hear him puff on the cigar and then the ping of a driver hitting a golf ball in the distance.
“Yeah.” I glance over at the unopened box with the Maverick logo on the side. “It just got here today.”
“Great. Great. I sent some to the Wildcats office too.”
“Cool.” I lean back on the couch. The family business has never interested me. Probably because it was often the reason I was alone. Mom and Dad would be at the office working or at events networking, and I was left home with nannies.
By the time I was old enough to have any interest, I resented it too damn much. Now that I’ve got my own life and career, some of that baggage has lifted, and hey, free shampoo and deodorant.
“I’ll have the company lawyer send the contract to your agent. We’ll need to set up a professional photo shoot once you get to Minnesota.”
It takes a minute for his words to sink in.
“Oh.” I sit forward. “You want to endorse me?”
“Of course we do. Maverick Company has been endorsing you for twenty-one years. Who do you think paid for school and hockey gear? It’s great timing with the new male line. We want to launch in early August, so there’s a lot of work to do.”
There it is. The sneak attack. Puck to the stomach. You’re nothing without me and my money. My first endorsement deal and I can’t even be excited about it. The company’s just capitalizing on their investment.
“Right. Sure thing. I gotta go, Dad.”
“Me too. I’m about to tee off. I’ll set up the shoot with Hugh.” Without a goodbye, he ends the call.
I slump into the leather cushion and let out a breath. Then, push to my feet and open the box to see what the hell I’m going to be endorsing.
I order pizza for the group and go upstairs, taking an armful of the free products with me. I drop them on the kitchen counter and wave my arms around. “You too can smell like me.”
Wild Love (Campus Nights Book 4) Page 3
