Breaking The Rules

Chapter 25

While my mood had lifted, Maverick's seemed to curdle like sour milk. I didn't know what had caused the shift. I stalked up the steps of the Hockey House behind him, his shoulders stiff beneath the leather of his jacket. Perhaps I was thinking too much into it. Months of being with Miles had me programmed to assume that something was always wrong––with me being the root cause.

Maverick wasn't that much of a man-child. I was sure he would communicate if something was wrong. If I did something wrong.

Right?

As soon as we stepped through the door, Maverick muttered something about grabbing a quick shower and bolted up the stairs. I stayed on the front carpet for a prolonged moment, taking my time with my shoes. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little deflated watching him disappear so fast. The events over the last few days had me thinking that we might actually be becoming friends, but the speed in which he was running away from me made me consider otherwise.

I shrugged it off, heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water to ease my dry throat. Maverick didn't warn me how dusty wreck rooms could be.

Conversation drifted towards my ears as I made my way down the hallway. I didn't pay it any mind until I made note of an unfamiliar voice that didn't resemble that of a man's. As I stepped into the kitchen the two people in the living room came into view.

Hendrix was sitting on the couch next to a pretty blonde with soft features. I tried to weed through my memory of the birthday bash the guys had thrown for me. Had she been invited?

"Hey," I chirped, getting the attention of both Hendrix and his guest.

"Hey, Celeste," Hendrix said, clearing his throat.

I poured the water into a glass, looking at him expectantly.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and I could have swore his cheeks flushed with the faintest shade of cranberry. "This is Ella—my girlfriend. Ella, this is Celeste, our housemate."

"Nice to meet you, Celeste," Ella said with a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you too." I returned the smile before bringing my glass to my lips.

Hendrix seemed a little stiff, like he was trying too hard to keep things casual. It made me wonder how long they had been seeing eachother. From the awkwardness, I had the feeling it was pretty fresh. He was probably still adjusting to how he should be acting.

"How long have you two been together?" I asked, bringing my glass of water into the living room. I perched on the ottoman in front of them.

Ella and Hendrix exchanged glances, as if my question had caught them off guard.

"It's been a while now," Ella started.

Hendrix offered her a stiff nod. "A few months now."

"Oh," I said as I adjusted my hold on my drink. "I had no idea. Are you a Fenton student or are you visiting?"

Ella's hazel eyes left Hendrix's face. "I'm a pre-law student here."

"Pre-law," I acknowledged with a nod. "I guess that's why I haven't seen you around. You must be busy."

Ella laughed, but it was Hendrix who responded.

"We've been keeping our relationship quiet," he said. "It's no secret that I haven't been having the best start to the season. I didn't want Coach to think that our relationship had anything to do with that."

I blinked at them, Hendrix stiffly throwing his arm around the back of the couch, inches from Ella's shoulders. "Why would he think that?"

"You haven't met Coach Miller." He rubbed his hand over his beard before turning to peer at Ella. "Do you want me to grab you a jacket or something to wear?"

She shook her said, blonde waves bouncing. I took that moment to notice the back off the shoulder sweater and denim skirt combo she had going on. "No, I should be fine. If we aren't in the bar, I'll be in your truck. I should be fine."

I assumed she was talking about the weather outside.

"Yeah," I agreed. "It's not too cold out."

As long as you're not riding on the back of a motorcycle.

"Alright," he said, voice smooth. "Let me know if you change your mind."

I couldn't help but smile at the tenderness that came along with Hendrix. I wasn't sure if this is what people meant when they talked about southern charm, but he was as sweet as anyone was going to find on this side of New York.

I had once been an Ella. I just wished she appreciated it, because it sucked once it's gone and you're left crying alone in the apartment you share.

With the mix of emotions waging a war inside of me, I was grateful when Maverick's voice boomed down the stairs. "Heading out!" he called, the sound of his footsteps heavy as he jogged down.

Before anyone could respond, he was gone, the front door slamming shut behind him. Not too long and muffle sound of his motorcycle revved to life, the engine rumbling as he sped down the street.

Hendrix raised his brow. "Where's he headed off to?"

"He's meeting up with Mila," I responded, taking a sip of my forgotten drink.

The cowboy in front of me didn't seem impressed. But Hendrix was a man of few words, so I wasn't surprised when he didn't elaborate on what he was thinking.

"We should probably start heading out too," Ella said, smiling at her boyfriend before directing it at me. "Some of the guys from the team are meeting up at this bar by campus. You should come along if you're free."

Grateful for the offer, I shook my head. "Thanks, but I have to watch a film for class with Easton tonight. Raincheck?"

She nodded. "Of course. Have fun with your movie night."

I returned her smile, watching as Hendrix helped her to her feet––hand on her lower back as he led her to the front door. A picture of care and attentiveness. It was refreshing. Hendrix was one of the good ones. A real gentleman.

The kind of stuff I was convinced was reserved for fairytales.