7. Maverick
Chapter 7
Maverick
This little hazel-eyed devil has the nerve to attempt to look innocent, like she didn’t just drop a bomb the size of Canada on us. I search her eyes for a sign that she’s joking because there’s no way my girl flew across the country and has no place to stay… Fuck, even the idea is giving me heartburn. Throat tight from holding back a barrage of questions, I do my best to lock my shit down, but before I can say anything stupid, Colt beats me to it.
“What the hell were you thinking, Cal?” His normally easygoing tone is nowhere to be found. He’s all business right now, talking down to her like she’s a kid, and from the way she’s toeing up to him, this is not going to be good… for him. It’s certainly going to be fun for me.
“Who do you think you are?” she spits back, any sign that maybe she should have booked a room before showing up nowhere to be found. It’s as if the second Colt opened his mouth, she’d disagree with whatever he says.
Which is his own fault for going after her that way. Callie’s never responded well to authority, and she’s definitely not going to take being reprimanded by him. She’d go down in a fiery grave of her own making before she’d ever admit she’s wrong.
A twisted, hidden part of me wants to see what happens when Callie gives in. When she stops fighting and starts wanting to listen. Would she still have that fire in her eyes as she does what she’s told? What the hell am I thinking? There’s a pole beside me, and I’m tempted to bang my head against it, knock some sense back into myself. I’m saved from my personal downfall when the woman at the counter calls us up.
“Hello, ma’am. Colt and I have rooms, but we’re looking to book another one.” This isn’t the first time we’ve been here, so she recognizes him and me easily enough, printing off our room keys. As she hands them to us, she gives us a customer service smile, while her tone calls me an idiot.
“We’re all booked up. With the rodeo in town and all.”
Of course they are. The entire parking lot’s full with riders.
“If that’s all, I have a line here,” the woman says, already looking at the person behind me.
Entwining my fingers with Callie’s, I maneuver us through the small, crowded space, using my larger frame to make a path, all while she and Colt are still going at it.
I know this place. The next motel’s a county over, and it’ll be as packed as this one. Small towns like this aren’t designed for an influx of visitors. Just a stop on the highway, except for once a year when the rodeo comes to town. My teeth are sharp against my tongue as I run through our options. If we can’t get her a room, she can have mine, and I’ll sleep in my truck. I can already feel the backache, but like hell she’ll be the one sleeping out there. A glance at Colt… never mind, I don’t want him in my truck any more than he already is, leaving his germs all over it.
My fingers drum on my thigh as a glimmer of an idea infiltrates my mind, growing more enticing by the moment. Something I shouldn’t entertain, but it’s impossible not to. She’s set off a possessiveness in me, unique to her, from the second she’d turned back up.
“You’ll stay with me.”
It’s a command, and I expect her to balk at it. Instead, her head tilts to the side, the corner of her lip curling like she got exactly what she wanted.
Colt, on the other hand, is going off.
“The fuck do you mean stay with you? She’s staying with me.”
His voice is several octaves too loud, a vein ticking in his forehead. He’s been working himself up this entire time, going back and forth with Callie, and now he’s about to detonate.
Callie, always the peacemaker, raises her hands between us with a gentle smile pointed at him. “That’s fine, I’ll stay at yours?—”
“Not going to happen.” I stomp on that idea before she can get it all the way out.
I should stop there, but I can’t help but push Colt’s buttons. He’s so fucking easy to push off the edge. It has nothing to do with the thrill I get whenever he confronts me, all that rage focused firmly on me, cracking that perfect image of his is like an addiction. It’s so enticing that I take it way too far.
“You going to bring her into your bachelor pad? Wake her up when you bring back a fucking buckle bunny?”
Callie gasps, and Colt stumbles back, his face contorting with betrayal, and I wish I could pull those words back and swallow them.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been near anyone, and you fucking know it, asshole.” Colt’s hurt shifts to anger, and he’s shoving me hard.
“Fuck. Listen…” I stop, not sure how to go forward. Apologizing to Colt is not something I do, and it’s caught in my throat.
“No, you fucking listen,” Colt says, shoving me back.
I barely move in time and stumble backward.
I have to apologize before this gets out of hand, but Colt’s already on his next throw. This time, I see it coming and dodge out of the way.
“I’m sorry—fuck.”
“That’s enough.”
Loud, sharp, and leaving no room for argument, Callie turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Colt and me to chase after her.
“I’ve got an idea to fix this shit. Give me a minute,” I tell her, and she hangs back, letting me take the lead.
I make my way up the stairs to the second floor of the motel, Colt yelling at me the entire time that we haven’t settled who Callie’s staying with yet, and I better fucking stop… I tune him out, making my way down the hall until I reach the room next to mine.
It takes five bangs on the wood before it swings open, a wiry rookie yelling, “What the hell do you want?—”
He cuts off the second he recognizes me, but I’m not here for fan service. I need something from him.
“Switch rooms with Colt.”
“What? Hell no. I’m all settled in.”
I rest my arm on the top of the doorframe, looming over him, but first, I’ll try the easy way.
“I know you’re lugging your gear around. I’ll pay your season transit fees.”
Transit fees are the cost of having the company pack up your gear for you instead of hauling them around yourself. Normally, rookies wouldn’t get this kind of opportunity. By the way he’s smiling, I hit the nail on the head.
“You serious?”
I nod. “Now, get the fuck out.”
Surprised but happy, he says, “It’s all yours.”
The railing cuts into my hips as I cross my arms, waiting. Colt’s still coming at me with questions, and now Callie’s even getting into it, but they’ll just have to wait and see. I figured this shit out, and they’re going to accept it.
The guy’s stuff is half falling out of his bag as he drags it from the room, handing over his key card and taking a confused Colt’s.
It’s less than five strides from me to the adjoining room doors. I unlock it with a click. The one from the other side’s still closed, and I hand my key to Callie.
“What are you waiting for? Let me in.”
There’s a glimmer in her eyes as her fingers brush mine, taking the card. “You’re a smart one, Kane.”
My brow arches. “You’re just realizing this now?”
“Why the hell are you calling this asshole smart?” Colt jumps in. It’s like he’s compelled by muscle memory more than anything.
Her head tips back, and she shakes it with a laugh as she makes her way into the room. “Boys.”
Within seconds, the door swings open, and Callie’s staring at us, hand on her hip.
“There. Problem solved.” I gesture between the rooms.
“You’ll sleep in there, Colt will take the pullout, and I’ll take the bed in here.”
“Hell no. Do you have any idea how fucking sore I was the last time?”
Callie laughs. “I knew it!”
“You offering to sleep with me again, Sunshine?” His grin’s salacious. A glimpse into his thoughts.
That’s not fucking happening.
“If you’re going to be a pussy, I’ll take the sofa.”
Colt scoffs. “What, so you can say that’s the reason you had a shitty ride? Screw that. We’re both men. We’ll share the bed. Just stay on your fucking side.”
Never in a million years did I think I’d hear those words out of Colt’s mouth.
I’ll dig your grave? Yes. Sleep next to you? Not a chance.
From the look on his face, he’s going through his own personal crisis.
The only one with an ounce of sense left, I say, “Not a good idea.”
“Who’s the pussy now?” he presses, never one to back down, his blue eyes piercing into mine, daring me to push back.
Never could resist him. He has a way of gnawing at me until I’m as immature as he is.
I square up, shoulders back, ready to take him on, when Callie’s laugh breaks through the room.
Colt and I turn simultaneously toward her with matching glares.
She’s practically doubled over, the doorframe the only thing keeping her standing as she snorts, laughing so loud.
“Find this funny, do you?” I’m unable to hide my amusement, and that just encourages her more.
She’s shaking her head no, but her teeth sink into her growing smile.
This fucking girl.
I bend and easily catch her middle with my shoulder, lifting her in the air, one arm firmly bound around her thighs. I walk her through her room and drop her on her bed.
“Stay.”
It’s a miracle she doesn’t jump up the second the word leaves my mouth, but she’s looking at me with so much amusement she damn near steals my breath away. Callie’s bathed in soft evening light, glowing up at me from the middle of a bed.
Jesus Christ… I’m never going to survive this girl.
I turn on my heels before I can lose whatever’s remaining on my mind. Between the two of them, I’ll be admitted by the end of the season.
With her out of the way, the adjoining door clicks behind me, and I crowd Colt.
He doesn’t budge, his smugness fully in place, a challenge written all over him.
For once, I give in. Hope he enjoys it. It’ll be the first and last time.
“Neither of us are in any shape to sleep on that couch, and you know it. And I’ll be dead before I let you sleep next to Callie. You feel the same?” I question, getting right to the point.
“Damn right,” he shoots back, quick as a whip.
“Then suck it up, buttercup, because you’re sleeping with me.” I say it like it was my idea in the first place.
He eyes me up and down, that dimple appearing in his cheek, but he doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, he dumps his bag on the corner of the bed and starts pulling shit out.
He’s bent forward, muscles visibly flexing beneath his thin Henley as he rolls his shoulder, a movement I’ve seen him do countless times before. A reminder of the night he went down and I was crowned Rookie of the Year.
He strides out, clothes scattered across the floor where he left them, some piled on the comforter. It’s like he opened a can of confetti and then left to take a shower.
The reality of what I just did smacks me in the face with instant fucking regret.
I really am an idiot.