CHAPTER ONE - MCKENNA
The wanton moan of a woman wakes me.
Opening my eyes, I peer around the unfamiliar bedroom and bolt straight up, fisting the navy duvet in my hands, until I recall where I am.
Allegra and Derek’s place. My college friend and her rockstar boyfriend generously offered to let me stay at their brownstone after my roommates, Emily and Robyn, got engaged.
As my roommates celebrated their upcoming nuptials with a lot—a whole fucking lot—of sex, it became increasingly difficult to live in the same space as the lovebirds.
After lamenting my need to take shelter at the law school library two weeks after Robyn put a ring on it, Allegra offered up her and Derek’s room in his band’s—The Burnt Clovers—Boston headquarters.
The brownstone where the band started is now a piece of history none of its members can part with. However, I thought all band members had moved on, purchasing mansions in LA, penthouses in New York, and properties on Beacon Hill in Boston, Massachusetts.
“Oh fuck, Mav. You’re a fucking god,” the woman announces. She moans breathily. “Right there. Right fucking there.”
Jesus. I collapse back into bed, my head hitting the pillow.
One band member needs to embrace his independence and economic freedom.
A male—I’m assuming drummer Maverick Tate—groans. The sound of a headboard hitting the wall rings out in a consistent staccato.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The tempo increases, and I drag a pillow over my face, wrapping it around my ears to drown out the sound and muffle my frustrated scream.
I’ve traded one set of sex-ing for another.
“Ride me, babe,” Mav grunts. “Fuck yeah, that’s it.” The sound of an ass slap cuts the air.
I squeeze my eyes closed.
The noises of Maverick and the woman going at it intensify. This version is infinitely worse than Emily and Robyn because at least my friends—fellow 3Ls at Boston University’s School of Law—are madly in love.
Mav probably picked this woman up about twenty minutes before he railed into her from behind.
That’s who Maverick Tate is. Sure, he may be sexy as hell, with bright blue eyes and dirty blond hair. I’ll give him his strong jawline and full lips. He’s tall, which I like, and has two full sleeves of tattoos, which I usually don’t find attractive, but it works for him.
But that’s it. That’s where it ends.
Once you get past his looks, which should happen the second he opens his mouth, it’s clear that Mav is an arrogant, annoying, cavalier fuckboy.
He moves through life riding the success of his band, a band he probably wouldn’t have been included in if his older brother, Jameson, didn’t pave the way for him.
He flirts with every woman he interacts with. Sleeps with most of them too.
Then, he moves on to the next, with zero fucks given. It doesn’t matter if they show up crying, stalk him on social media, or send him death threats. I’ve witnessed all three reactions, and none made Maverick blink twice.
Nope. Once you get past his playful veneer, it’s evident that Mav doesn’t have much of a heart. I’ve yet to see him react emotionally to anything or anyone unless he’s sneering in my direction about what a prissy, no-fun prude I am.
“Ooooh yeah. Right fucking there,” the woman cries.
I grope for my AirPods on the nightstand and pop them in, turning up the volume on a sleep story from the Calm app to drown out the noise. More than most, I need a dose of calm, peace, and tranquility in my life.
Should I leave?
And go where? Back to Emily and Robyn? No, I don’t want to interrupt them. They waited a long time to take this next step. I want them to enjoy this time, wrapped up in wedding planning, without worrying about me.
I know they felt awful when I moved out, but facts are facts. I couldn’t keep tiptoeing around a home I live in, and I can’t afford solo rent in Boston. Even less now than when I was a 1L since I’m acutely aware of my growing student loan debts.
I try to clear my mind, sink into the narrator’s soothing voice, and breathe deeply, but frustration flares below my skin, making me itchy and hot and unable to sleep.
Another thing I blame on Maverick.
I don’t know how long I sleep, but it feels like seconds pass before the loud ringing of my alarm jars me awake.
I silence it and glance at the time. I have an hour before I need to leave for campus and my first class, Intellectual Property.
Dragging myself from bed, I shower, dig into my suitcase for a pair of jeans and a sweater, and pull my long reddish-brown hair into a ponytail. It used to be lighter. A flirty strawberry-blonde shade that I darkened my 2L year when I decided to look more serious. Less approachable.
My phone rings, and I grin when I see Allegra’s name. “Why are you even awake?”
She laughs. “Haven’t gone to bed yet, Kenny.”
“The life of a rockstar,” I joke.
“The life of dating a rockstar,” she clarifies. “But it’s good to be back in LA. I had a girls’ night with Nova and Ivy last night.” Allegra yawns. “And sweet little Stella.”
I grin, thinking of my friend Nova’s adorable baby girl. “Nova’s in town?”
“Yeah. West’s team is playing in LA this weekend. Nova came by with the baby for dinner but left early to put Stella to sleep. Ivy just left like ten minutes ago.”
I glance at my phone. “It’s four in the morning for you.”
Allegra giggles. “I know, right? It was long overdue. We missed you.”
I sigh, a wave of nostalgia bubbling in my chest. The four of us lived together for the first three years of college. Allegra took a leave of absence before our senior year to figure out her future, but we remained close even after she started dating Derek. “I miss you girls, too.”
“And we talked about you.”
I snort. “All good things?”
Allegra chuckles. “Of course. And…about you crashing at the brownstone. Look, I don’t know when he’s going to show, but you need to play nice with Maverick.”
I cringe at his name. “He kept me awake last night with loud, obnoxious sex noises.”
“He’s there?” Allegra asks. “Derek and I sent him messages, but they all went unanswered. I wanted to give him a heads-up about your arrival but assumed he’s still in Costa Rica.”
“He’s back,” I confirm.
“Well, be nice.”
“I don’t get how you and he are friends.”
She laughs again. “He says the same thing about you.”
I roll my eyes. He would say something dumb like that. “Whatever. I’ll be as nice as I can. I appreciate you and Derek letting me crash here until I figure things out.”
“Don’t be silly. Stay through the school year if you want. The room is empty, and you’re one of my closest friends. Do you need anything? I guess with Mav being back, everything is up and running…”
“It’s all good. Everything is perfect. I officially moved in last night and am happy to be your tenant. Please, let me pay something for—”
“Ha! Consider your rent being civil to Mav.”
Another eye roll. But deep down, I appreciate Allegra and Derek’s generosity. I need it more than I let on. “Fine.”
Another yawn. “I’m gonna crash. Love you, Kenny. Have a good day, smartypants.”
“Sleep well, A.” I end the call.
Heading into the kitchen, I’m relieved when I spot the fancy espresso machine. This was definitely a Derek purchase. I make myself an espresso while simultaneously tapping out a grocery list on my phone.
“What’re you doing here?” His voice comes out of nowhere.
I look up sharply, clutching my chest. How did Mav—the ass-smacking, loud-sex moaner—come downstairs without making a peep? “You scared me.”
“I should say that to you.” He lifts his eyebrows. “Breaking and entering?”
I glare at him. He with his bare chest, save for the ink that scrolls over his right pec and down his rib cage. He with the obscene washboard abs. What the hell—who has an eight-pack? Is that even a thing?
On Maverick Tate it is.
He clears his throat, and my eyes snap to his. My cheeks blaze as mortification rocks through me. He totally caught me checking him out. Something I mentally swear to never do again.
“Like what you see?” Mav taunts.
For lack of a comeback—cut me some slack; I haven’t had my espresso yet—I roll my eyes. “I’ve had better.”
He cackles. “It’s cute when you lie to yourself, Mckenna.”
I wrinkle my nose. While Allegra and her crew—the rest of The Burnt Clovers—call me Kenny, Maverick insists on using my full name. Allegra thinks it creates distance between us; I’m convinced it’s to piss me off.
“What are you doing here?” he asks again, reaching across the butcher block island to swipe my espresso.
“Hey.” I lunge for the demitasse cup.
Maverick smirks and downs it like a shot of tequila. He smacks his lips in approval.
“You suck,” I tell him, moving to the espresso machine.
“Morning, babe,” he says, and I look over my shoulder in time to see an adorable blonde clad in yellow boy shorts and nothing else enter the kitchen.
“Oh my God!” She claps her hands over her bare nipples. She may have the perkiest breasts I’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry! Mav said no one was home.”
“Mav’s a liar,” I tell her, turning back to my espresso. She should learn the truth now.
Behind me, I hear his amused chuckle. “I didn’t know Mckenna was crashing here. In fact, I still don’t know why Mckenna is here…”
I don’t say anything, becoming engrossed in making my espresso to give him and the blonde a moment. To ensure the redness in my cheeks subsides. I fumble the demitasse cup, thrown off guard by the blonde’s appearance, by their easygoing interaction.
“I gotta get to work,” she declares. The sound of a kiss. “See you around, Mav.”
The slap of an ass cheek. “Later, babe.”
Her footsteps sound on the stairs again.
“Coast is clear,” Mav says.
I heave out a sigh and turn around. Arch an eyebrow. “You’re not going to offer her breakfast? It seems she gave you one hell of a night.”
He slips onto a barstool and crosses his arms over his chest. “Listening, were you?” His eyes scan me, and I know he finds my appearance lacking by the scowl that pinches his lips.
Not that I care. “Poor Mckenna. Still no man? I can’t imagine any dude wanting to put in the Herculean amount of effort necessary to help you discover your G-spot. ”
I flinch at his vulgarity.
He snorts. “Your G-spot is—”
“I know what a G-spot is! I was surprised by your use of the word Herculean. Big words aren’t really your thing.”
He narrows his eyes. I smile and take a sip of my espresso.
The sound of the front door closing rings out. The blonde departed with no tears or pleas for a repeat. Color me impressed.
“Last time I’m gonna ask. Why’re you here?”
I grin slowly, savoring the moment, as a flicker of appreciation spreads through my chest. My announcement will ruin Mav’s morning. “Say hello to your new roommate, Maverick. I moved in last night.”
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