Maverick

The text message stopped me mid-step—mid-breath. I’d been jogging up the stairs to the apartment after work, and she flashed across the screen. Josie, looking at me over her shoulder, showing me nothing but a skimpy pair of underwear and everything I’d imagined.

Carefully, I texted her back and walked the rest of the way. My blood pumped wildly in my veins at the thought of seeing her in person. I shoved my fingers through my hair as I opened our apartment door.

Frankie looked up from the couch where he had all his schoolbooks scattered. He looked frantic. “Where is Josie?” he asked.

I shut the door behind me, tugged off my t-shirt and wiped the sweat from my forehead with it. “On her way home, why?”

“I need help with my math—,”

“Let me stop you there, bro. Josie and I have plans tonight.”

Frankie scoffed. “I don’t understand this. I need her help.”

Really? I snatched his book from him and glanced over the section he needed help with. Math, I was good at, so I scooted him down and sta