Breaking The Rules

Chapter 20

There was no way I had heard him correctly. Did Maverick just suggest that he and I...

I was left in a daze, jaw hanging open as my brain failed to compute. Thankfully, I didn't have time to consider a coherent response. Easton had chosen that moment to join Maverick and I by the island, effectively snipping the invisible string that was pulling the two of us together. A spell that––I hated to admit––was more like a chokehold. Suffocating.

The daze I was under lessened as Maverick wordlessly excused himself from the conversation, leaving me to decipher what he meant with my unknowing friend by my side.

How had his disingenuous offer gotten so far under my skin?

Part of me wanted to blame the three tequila shots and the one drink that Booker had whipped up for me. But, while I may have been slightly buzzed, I sure wasn't anymore.

Easton led me over to the couch, hand in mine as we passed through rings of heat-inducing bodies. My birthday-party-turned-house-party was in full force. The deeper we ventured into the living room the more my chest vibrated. After safely securing a seat he handed me a bottle of water. I greedily took a long sip, chaos unfolding around me.

"I told Booker this would be a bad idea," Easton muttered with a sorry smile.

I waved away his concern, screwing the lid back on. "What? No, I'm having a great time."

"Are you?" Easton raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Yeah," I gushed, beaming at him as if I wasn't completely losing my mind. "This has been so fun. Thank you."

My response seemed to appease him. He leaned back against the thick cushions, arm resting on the back of the couch. Laughter echoed from every corner, and the energy in the room was infectious. But I couldn't focus on any of it—not really. My eyes kept drifting back to the center of the room, where Maverick was holding court.

Women were all over him, as usual. It was like a revolving door—one girl would flirt, flash a coy smile, and then another would swoop in, giggling and batting her eyelashes. And Maverick? He handled it all with that signature grin of his, smooth and easy. Like this was just a regular, every day occurrence.

But the most fucked up thing about it? It bothered me.

I wasn't sure why. He hadn't confessed his undying love for me in the kitchen.

I had no claim on him. But every time I saw another girl touch his arm or lean a little too close, the unmistakable twist of jealousy settled in my chest. I caught myself. This wasn't me falling for Maverick. The man had less redeemable qualities than a PopTart. These misconstrued thoughts had to be alcohol induced bad ideas. I steeled my spine, taking another sip of water once I'd reached some clarity.

But yet, my mind still wandered.

Was he really this 'sex god' that all these girls swooned over? With the way they practically threw themselves at him, they made him out to be. I wasn't oblivious. Maverick was attractive. More than that, he had this raw magnetism that drew people to him, like he was the center of some unseen gravity. It was hard not to get caught up in it.

Hell, I had gotten pulled into his orbit less than twenty minutes prior.

That's when a truly scary realization came to mind. If Maverick and I weren't housemates, perhaps I wouldn't have been so opposed to his teasing. My last relationship led me to realize that I wasn't ready for another one. Definitely nothing serious. But if Maverick was as good as these women led me to believe, then perhaps I wanted a go as well.

I wanted to know what sex was supposed to be like when it wasn't with a selfish prick.

I shook the thought away, embarrassed. Clearly, I needed to get myself to bed.