Maverick

There she stood. All five foot three inches of the girl I remembered from high school. The girl that scared me beyond all the beautiful eighteen-year-olds that fallen into my bed over the last two years.

The only difference with Josie Lee was that she wasn’t standardly beautiful, but quirky and shy, which made it hard to hate her. But—oh, did I hate her. And she had no idea why.

I watched her small frame walk toward the front door of our apartment and fear laced its fingers around my neck as I grabbed her wrist in my grasp. She swung around to face me, meeting me with a look that I didn’t remember from before. The side of her lip rose, and damn myself to Hell, if it didn’t send heat through my veins.

“You don’t want to be my roommate, Lee? You afraid?” I asked, knowing she didn’t. Knowing she hated me, and knowing I wanted her there more than anything else in the world.

Her gaze jumped over my shoulder to Jordan, who I assumed was confused with our exchange, and I wouldn’t tell him. I wouldn’t tell anyone the reason I hated Josie Lee. Because telling would mean to bare my soul and I spit on the idea of anyone knowing more about me than they needed.

“Afraid of what?” she almost hissed. “You? Not anymore.” She tried to pull away but I tugged her closer, bringing her fresh linen scent closer to me.

I searched her face for any kind of bluff that she tried to hide. Noticing suddenly how the slant in her eyes made the point of her cheekbones sharper.

“Prove it,” I said.

The challenge traveled across her face and landed on the corners of her mouth in a frown. Deep down, I wanted to say something that would make her stay, but ultimately, I knew that wouldn’t happen.

Every time I tried to say something nice, I thought about the reasons I couldn’t let her get close and they all fumbled down my throat and landed in the pit of my stomach.

She scoffed, this time when she pulled away I let her. Josie wrapped her palm around her wrist and stared at me for a few good seconds. “I’d rather eat nails than live with you.”

Jordan cleared his throat, drawing Josie’s attention. I didn’t look, I wanted to get a good look at her, and she looked different. It’d only been one summer since senior year yet she looked like a different person.

“I can see this isn’t ideal for either of you,” Jordan said. “I had no idea you two—whatever this is—so you can leave, Josie. Sorry it didn’t work out. I know you really needed a place.”

Questions of why filled my head. If Josie had been anything in school, it was prepared. She wouldn’t have showed up to school without a place to stay or a plan.

Josie sighed deeply, a wrinkle formed in the center of her forehead, before she straightened. “It’s fine, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere else to go.” Her dark eyes drug to mine and held. “And I’m sure you’ll find a roommate that can tolerate … this,” she said, gesturing toward me.

Before I could chuckle, or try to hide the way it made me feel, she turned on her heel and walked out of the front door.

Jordan whistled, drawing me out of my stupor. He glared at me when I turned around, his long arms stretched wide beside him before dramatically slapping them against his thighs. “What was that? I mean, do I even want to know? Did you screw her?”

I wished.

Instead of giving into my desire to let the past escape from my lips, I chuckled. “Nah, we went to school in Zachary together.”

Digging my phone from my pocket, I pulled out my text messages from Coach about practice. “Coach called for practice at six,” I said, sliding the ancient phone into my pocket.

Jordan watched me walk to the kitchen and open a bottle of water that I downed. I needed something to cool me down after that encounter with Josie. Knowing she’d grace the halls at LSU felt bittersweet to me.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“That’s all I’m going to get?” he asked. “You went to school together? Because it looks like you slept with her mom, or killed her puppy.”

“Not much to tell,” I lied.

Jordan cocked an eyebrow, not believing me for a second, but knowing I wouldn’t indulge him any further. “Right, well, this should be an interesting semester.”

Interesting … we’ll go with that.

***

The steam of my morning shower rolled over my sore muscles from a summer full of football Hell. I knew it’d be brutal, especially compared to football at Zachary. It’d definitely lived up to my imagination.

Jordan’s alarm clock went off as I pulled my practice jersey over my head and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. It was surreal to stand there in the colors that I once thought I would avoid.

Getting far away from Louisiana was the plan, especially when I accepted Alabama’s full-ride scholarship. Then I thought of Frankie—my little brother. I couldn’t leave him with my mother—being the shell of the person she used to be—I decided to stay close to home.

Bang. Bang. “Hurry up!”

Jordan grumbled something when I opened the door. To say he wasn’t a morning person was an understatement.

I made myself a protein shake, and grabbed a banana before heading toward my room. Being early was a requirement for freshman, which I didn’t mind. There was something nice and surreal about an early morning sunrise.

The silence of the world before everyone woke, when vehicles littered the roads, and people screwed it up. I slung my practice bag over my shoulder and took the stairs two at a time to get to the parking lot.

The humid Louisiana morning greeted me with instant sweat and a slap of moisture in the air. The parking lot looked empty along with the streets adjacent to us that would take me to the Huey P. Long Field House for morning drills.

I slung my bag into the back of my pickup and stalled.

I took three steps backward and stared at the bare foot sticking out from the cracked backseat window of a familiar Honda Civic. Her toes wiggled in the growing wind as I approached.

Josie laid in the uncomfortable stained backseat of her vehicle, one leg stretched up with her foot hanging out and the other bent at the knee. Something hit my chest at the sight of her sleeping in her hot car, sweat built around her upper lip and hairline while she breathed heavily.

It was August in Louisiana. This is what she’d rather do than be my roommate. I understood—but it pissed me off. I debated on what to do, seeing her door was unlocked—which was stupid—I jerked the car door opened, and her leg fell with a plop.

“Ouch!” she screamed, sitting up straight, she searched through heavy-lidded eyes at me. “What in the crap,” she said.

I bit back every slew of curse words I wanted to call her, and glared, my jaw hurting from clutching my teeth together tightly. “What are you doing?” I finally managed to bite out.

She curled her foot inside and rubbed her eyes with her fist. “I was sleeping. What time is it—,” she searched her floorboard for her cell phone and sighed when she turned it on. “I’m not late—,”

“Get up.”

Josie glared at me with confused eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I felt my anger rising. As much as I hated her, and wanted her to understand why, I felt pissed that she’d sleep out here with the door unlocked. Anyone could have robbed or better yet raped her.

“You’re an idiot,” I said, grabbing her wrist and hauling her out of the backseat.

She stumbled out, her bare feet hitting the asphalt and her arms wailing to steady herself on someone’s van parked beside her.

I slammed her door, feeling adrenaline soar through me. My eyes dropped to her peaked nipples against her thin white t-shirt and I felt my blood rush wildly.

She noticed my gaze, and wrapped her arms around her tits. “Go upstairs,” I ordered. “You’re not sleeping in your car like a hobo. Someone could have attacked you.”

Josie’s hazel eyes looked bewildered for a few seconds. “Why the hell do you care what happens to me?” she asked. “You never have before.”

That was true. In fact, I’d been her tormentor. The person that made sure she had a shitty day—every day. Nothing felt different. I still hated her.

However, her torment would be at my hands, not someone else’s.

“Go upstairs. Jordan will let you in. You’ll take the room until you can find something else.”

Josie huffed, tucking her wild black hair behind her ear. “I’m not going—,”

Anger floored me. Bending down, I opened her door, grabbed her bag and slung it over my shoulder. The backseat smelled like her, and even when she protested and tried to grab the strap—I hated her.

She wouldn’t sleep in her car. I bent down and picked her up, tossing her small frame over my shoulder. Her pajamas were drenched in sweat, and I dug my fingers into her thigh as I walked her up the stairs.

She wailed and kicked but I didn’t care. I went to open the door but Jordan stood in the doorjamb, ready for practice with his mouth hanging opened. “What in the donkey crap,” he mumbled, opening the door for me. “Dude, I don’t think she wants to be here—,”

I tossed her on the couch, watching her get up and glare at me with heated eyes. I wanted that hate from her because it fueled the hatred I held in my soul. However, in the midst of that hate—something sick—something that shouldn’t be there lingered.

Want. I wanted Josie Lee for reasons I shouldn’t.

“Take a shower and get ready for class,” I said, surprised at how calm my voice sounded. “We’re leaving. You'll take the spare room. You can have it until you find another place. If I come back and you haven’t moved your stuff in ... you’ll regret it.”