Chapter Ten
Macallan
“We should figure out our schedules this week so we can move on to the next portion of our assignment,” Maisie says almost the instant our waitress takes our menus and walks away, having jotted down our orders on her notepad.
“Is that really what you want to talk about right now?” I relax back into the booth, stretching my legs out under the table, nudging her foot with mine in the process.
She quickly adjusts, pulling her feet under the bench as she clears her throat.
“No time like the present.” She fidgets with the napkin in front of her, and I can’t help the smile it brings to my lips—the knowledge that I still have the power to make her nervous, exciting me more than it should.
“Okay. But first, what do you plan to do about your living situation?”
“What do you mean, what do I plan to do? There’s nothing I can do.”
“You’re going to continue living with Lana, even after the shit she pulled last night?” I can’t help the anger that floods my chest. Lana is unpredictable, dangerous even. The thought of Maisie being at her mercy... I try to breathe through the uneasiness the thought causes.
“It’s not like I have much of a choice. Unless the police are able to find the proof they need to charge her, I’m stuck. I’ve already requested a housing change and was denied.”
“When?”
“At the start of the semester.”
“Why would you request a housing change before you even knew her?”
“Because she made it abundantly clear from the very first day that she hated me, and I knew I had to try, otherwise be forced to endure a very uncomfortable school year.”
“You seemed rather chummy at that party a few weeks ago,” I remind her, the memory of how it felt to see the two of them together flooding my system like a toxin that makes me feel physically ill.
“We bonded over our hatred of you.” She doesn’t meet my eyes as she says it, almost as if she feels bad about it.
“Do you really think it’s safe to stay there now, though?”
“I don’t think there’s any chance she comes after me.
One, she doesn’t know I had anything to do with reporting her.
If I start acting weird, she most definitely will.
Two, if she does know, she’d be stupid to try anything while she’s already under a microscope.
You know how seriously the university takes these kinds of complaints. ”
“I still don’t like it.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I don’t miss how her eyes track the movement.
“Well, you don’t have to like it. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” I fight my smile, my lips twitching with the action of trying to prevent it from spilling across my mouth. “Do you have somewhere you can go if things get too uncomfortable?”
“Why? Are you going to offer to let me stay with you?” She crosses her arms in front of herself, an unspoken challenge.
“Would you consider it if I did?” I arch a brow.
“Absolutely not.” She shakes her head, tossing a thick band of curls over her shoulder as she uncrosses her arms.
“Why not? Don’t trust me to keep my hands to myself?” The smile I’ve been fighting finally breaks free. “Or maybe you don’t want me to.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She huffs with a dramatic eye roll.
“Why? When it’s so easy to do.” I chuckle.
“You’re really full of yourself, you know that?”
“You could be full of me too... All you have to do is—”
“Don’t finish that sentence. That is, unless you want this truce to end with me sticking a fork into the back of your hand.”
“Again with the violence.” I tsk, shifting in the booth in an attempt to make the sudden bulge pressing against the seam of my pants less uncomfortable.
“Keep testing me and you’ll see just how violent I can be,” she warns.
“Now I want to do just that.” I lean forward, pressing my elbows to the table as I stare back at her. “You’re quite beautiful when you’re irritated, you know that?”
She tries to hide her reaction to my words, but I still catch the flustered expression that flutters across her face before she has a chance to hide it behind annoyance.
“What’s your end game here?” she finally asks, mirroring my stance by lowering her elbows to the table and leaning forward, only the small width of the table separating us.
“Who says I have one?”
“Because I’ve seen this film before. The ending sucked.”
“Perhaps a rewrite is in order.”
She smiles at that.
“I don’t know. I think you’d be better off scraping the project entirely and starting from scratch.”
“Only if you agree to play the lead.”
She shakes her head, her brilliant blue eyes narrowing in on me.
“Whatever you’re doing, I’m not going to take the bait.”
“Who says I’ve even cast a line?”
“Because I can smell something rotten dangling from your hook.” She runs her tongue across the front of her teeth in a way that holds my focus on her mouth for entirely too long.
I try to remind myself of all the reasons I pushed Maisie away to begin with. My fear of commitment. The issues Lana would inevitably cause. My anxiety over... well, everything. Of giving someone too much power.
But as my gaze flickers up and meets hers, I don’t feel even a hint of those feelings. All I feel is the undeniable urge to pull her across this table and devour her the way I’ve daydreamed about doing countless times over the last two years.
I still remember how she tastes. The silkiness of her skin. The feel of her tight and wet around me. The sounds she makes as she comes. My arousal presses even tighter against my pants, and I shift a second time, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
“You know what I think?” I let the question hang for a little too long and the impatience on her face is unmistakable.
“Don’t leave me in suspense here.” She pulls her elbows away from the table, settling back against the booth seat.
“I think you’re afraid of what might happen if you actually allowed yourself to see past what happened two years ago.”
“Oh yeah?” She snorts out a humorless laugh.
“You’re not nearly as convincing as you think you are.”
“And what, do tell, am I trying to convince you of?”
“That you don’t want to rip my clothes off as badly as I want to remove yours.”
Her breath hitches, eyes widening in surprise. Whatever she expected me to say, this wasn’t it.
“You know, they have medications for that.”
“For what?” I cock my head to the side with a smile.
“Seeing things that aren’t there.”
A deep rumble of laughter bubbles in my chest and spills past my lips before I can stop it.
I don’t miss the way the corners of her eyes crinkle, or how her lips twitch, like she’s trying really hard not to smile, though eventually, she gives in and I’m given a flash of her perfect white teeth.
She opens her mouth to say something but then snaps it closed as her focus is drawn somewhere behind me. I turn my head just in time to see the stunning redhead that is Charlotte O’Malley, one of Maisie’s closest friends, heading our way, her expression a mix of confusion and humor.
I don’t know Maisie’s friends well, but I’ve seen them around enough to know who they are, especially Charlotte, who actually hooked up with one of my roommates freshman year. Not that he told me that. I just happened to be sitting at the kitchen table when she snuck out the next morning.
“Well, well.” She stops at the edge of our table, her gaze locked on Maisie as they seem to have a private conversation without ever speaking a word.
I take a moment to watch the two of them.
While Charlotte is beautiful, there’s no denying that, she is no Maisie Rose.
In fact, I can’t think of a single woman I’ve ever met who even holds a candle to Maisie’s beauty.
She’s so unique in both her appearance and her spitfire personality.
Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I like her so much.
She’s not afraid to go toe-to-toe with me and tell me exactly what she thinks.
For someone who’s spent his life with yes-women, it’s refreshing to have someone who doesn’t immediately bend to my will.
“What are you doing here?” Maisie finally asks, her gaze snagging on the man who steps up next to Charlotte, his hand falling to the small of her back like he can’t help but touch her.
He’s tall, not quite as tall as me but close, with dirty-blond hair and a full beard a few shades darker. His eyes flash to me, assessing. I tip my chin in way of hello.
“We had a late start to the morning, so we decided to cancel our plans today and just spend some time together. I’ve been craving blueberry pancakes.” Charlotte smiles, holding up the takeout bag in her hand, her gaze bouncing to mine for the briefest of moments before going back to Maisie.
“What are you doing here?” She tips her head in my direction, but her focus remains on Mais.
“It’s a very long story.” Maisie blows out a breath.
“It must be if you two are sitting here... together.” A knowing smile spreads across Charlotte’s mouth.
“Have you spoken to your sister?” Maisie asks the man at Charlotte’s side.
Lyric’s brother... Interesting.
“Not today.” He shakes his head.
“Why?” It’s Charlotte who asks.
“Let’s just say, last night was interesting. Lyric can fill you in.”
“Everything okay?” Concern tugs at her brows.
“Yeah.” Maisie nods.
“I wouldn’t say it’s okay. Given that Maisie plans to return to her dorm with a woman who drugged and tried to rape my friend last night.”
If I can’t talk some sense into her, perhaps one of her friends can.
“What?” Charlotte’s eyes widen as she looks back at Mais. “Lana?”
Mais nods.
“A ploy to get back at Macallan,” she confirms.
“What happened?”
“Long story short, she tried to get me involved. I refused, of course. Then, when Mac got there, she tried to say it was me who did it.”
“Who did she drug?”
“Joey.”
“QB Joey?”
“Yep.”
“What did she drug him with?”
“Put a couple Xannies in his drink.”
“You’re shitting me?”
I can’t tell if Charlotte is impressed or appalled. Perhaps a little of both.