Page 13 of Five Things
“Yo, I’m out of here,” Nash says, his hand over his mouth. He rushes away, pushing through the bathroom door at the end of the hall, and I shake my head, a bubble of laughter coming out of me.
Though I can’t really blame him for the dramatics. My head is tender as fuck, my stomach threatening to rebel at any moment, and keeping my eyes open is a struggle as the lingering hangover continues to wreak havoc on me.
“I think he’s got the right idea,” Gray grumbles behind me, the cap over his head shielding his eyes. He wears a black hoodie and sweats, looking every bit as shit as I feel right now. “Back to my original plan, let’s bail. Jenkins can’t bench us all, we’re his stars.”
“Or we don’t,” Beck says, an appreciative whistle following his words as he looks toward the lockers on our left.
Following his gaze, I spot a pair of long legs leading to a perfectly round ass clad in short black-denim cut-offs. When my eyes continue upward, two braids come into view and my dick twitches, not getting theoff-fucking-limitsmessage for the millionth time in days.
My eyes narrow, my pulse skyrocketing as her head tips back, laughter falling from her lips at something the girl next to her said. I try to peel my eyes away, to see who she’s standing with, but they won’t fucking move.
Not when her back straightens—as though she senses me watching—or when she presses against the locker, her head dropping for a moment. And especially not when she turns so fucking slowly and those green eyes I know too well widen in shock as they take me in before she dips her gaze to the floor.
Her chest heaves up and down, her hands twisting at her sides, and without conscious thought, I move forward, ignoring Beck and Gray as they call out behind me.
Beatrice stays locked in place, her eyes lifting as they land on my chest. The toes of our shoes touch first, and she sinks against the locker as I crowd her. My hands press against the cold metal either side of her head, caging her in. Her tongue sweeps across her lower lip, those forest-green eyes darkening as her pupils dilate.
She gasps when I lean closer, my mouth hovering just over hers.
I can feel the tension seeping from her, soaking into me, but it’s not enough to stop this. Her mouth gapes, and she studies my face before settling on my chest. Her breath shortens as she opens and closes her mouth in quick succession. Her fingers tap against her thigh, a rhythm I don’t recognize.
The hallway disappears from around us, and she’s the only person I can see as one of my hands leaves the wall, curling around a strand of hair that’s slipped free from her braid.
“Hey, Bumblebee.” She pulls in a shuddering breath, her eyes snapping up to mine. “Long time no see, huh?”
Chapter Six
Beatrice
Bumblebee...
God, how long it has been since I’ve heard that nickname and that voice. It’s deeper than I remember, huskier but richer too. Where once he would have said the moniker with warmth and joy, now there’s anger and hurt laced within it.
Maverick crowds me, overwhelming every one of my senses until the world around us dissipates. He smells of fresh soap and mint, but underneath it is like a warm spring day, welcoming after a long winter . . . but that’s not right.
There’s nothing welcoming in the way his eyes turn to steel as they linger on mine, or the way he cages me in with one arm locked at the side of my head and his free hand fiddling with the loose strands of my hair.
The backward baseball cap he wears hides most of his dark hair, though a few strands slip past, dipping to his brow, and the hoodie he wears is oversized, covering the muscles I know he sports underneath.
My heart constricts, my throat burning as I try to swallow over the lump lodged there. Maisie squeaks beside us, but I can’t force my eyes away from his long enough to reassure her.
Shadows come either side of Maverick’s frame, but he pays them no attention, keeping his gaze solely on me.
“Nothing to say?” he murmurs, his mouth hovering over me. The mint on his breath tickles my nose, the warmth fanning over my cheeks. “Probably for the best, though, right? Since the only thing you can do when you open your mouth is lie.”
“Mav—” I breathe, my voice cracking as his finger tugs at the hair wrapped around it. Despite the frustration and annoyance I feel rolling off him, his touch is as gentle as it’s ever been where I’m concerned.
“Did you get my message?”
“That was you? Why?”
“You showed up to my school, Beatrice,” he says, sliding his hand to the back of my head and tugging it backward until I’m looking up at him. “You don’t belong here. You’re not welcome here.”
Maverick was always one of the tallest guys around at six feet four, he’s broader now and more imposing than ever as he towers over me, his words wrapping around my heart.
“I di-n.” I cough, pulling in a shaky breath as I count to ten in my head, composing myself enough to speak clearly. “I didn’t know you went here.”
He laughs, but it comes out dry and distorted. Nothing like the Maverick I once knew.