Chapter 31 Maverick
maverick
Silas leans over the table beside me, resting his head in the crook of his elbow.
“What’s the matter, Milly? Date keep you up last night?”
“Not mine,” he mumbles into the fabric of his sweatshirt. “I passed out early last night, but woke up when I heard someone leave around ten.” He stretches his arms overhead.
“Early? Eight p.m. is your normal bedtime, who are you trying to fool?” I ask, ignoring his roundabout way of saying he knows I had someone over.
After cleaning Chloe up last night, she quickly threw her clothes back on, and to my disappointment, found the exit. I’m not sure if she was flustered, or she left because she thought I would expect that, but for the first time in my life, I wanted someone to stay. I wanted her in my bed with me.
“Speaking of early…” he yawns, “I’ve noticed I’ve not been the only one up before the sun this last week.”
I grab a pen from the cup on the table between us, for no other reason than to have something to do with my hands. I balance the end of it against the tip of my finger before flicking it around my thumb once, and thankfully, Noah arrives.
“Boys.” He pulls the beanie off his head and unzips his black jacket. “It’s warm in here,” he says, looking around the arena meeting room like it personally offended him.
I follow his gaze around the room where everything from the walls to the chair cushions are decorated in Lion’s green with the exception of the gold mascot painted on the wall.
The rest of the team must have been waiting outside, because one by one, they make their way through the doors and find an empty chair. It isn’t until Coach Alvarez and Coach Sage enter that I start to feel the heat that Noah was referring to.
We have an away game tonight, so a team meeting before we leave isn’t unusual, however, it’s been radio silent regarding the fall out of the last game from both the school and my development coach.
I like to think Coach Alvarez is a good enough guy that if I got a permanent suspension he wouldn’t tell me in front of the entire team, but that would affect them too, so while they don’t deserve it, maybe I do.
I drop my elbows to the table and run my hands over my head, using the little prickles of hair as a sensory distraction to my racing thoughts.
“Alright, boys. Big game tonight.” Coach holds a manila folder in his hand as he addresses us from the head of the room. “A game you all could have easily missed out on.”
Various heads nod back and forth.
“You all know the rules,” he continues. “We keep it clean. No fighting.”
“Yes, Coach,” the room echoes.
Coach nods, running a hand over his mouth, and if I didn’t know any better, I would think he was trying to hide a smile.
“Alright. So, after meeting with the refs, the officials, the head of the athletic department, and the dean of students, they decided that due to the mass altercation and the difficulty determining specific instigators on our side…” He pauses with emphasis on the words our side.
“No individual student discipline will be issued.”
A collective sigh fills the room, and even though I heard the words myself, I still feel like I’m holding my breath.
Coach gives a quick pep talk and before I know it, Noah is standing and the rest of the guys follow suit, clapping each other on the back. Someone lets out a low whistle, but other than that, they file out the room as if nothing happened.
I push in my chair, give Silas a nod that tells him I’ll meet up with him, and drag my feet to the front of the room.
“Coach.”
He looks up at me, and as if he can already read the question on my face he says, “I relayed the message to your development coach, Hall.” He claps my shoulder.
“Take this as your one get out of jail free card.
Next year in Toronto when you're out from under the university's rules, you can go buck wild, but for the rest of this season, we need to keep it clean.”
“So, you know then.” I tap my knuckle on the edge of the long table.
“What’s that?”
“You know I hit that guy.”
He crosses his arms. “I know that you stood up for Parker.”
I drop my head, looking down at my shoes.
“I know that as soon as Kingston was on you, you stopped.”
I know he’s saying this to make me feel better, but it still just feels like a reminder that even though I held back, in the end, I still couldn’t make the right choice.
“And I know what everyone else in that room knows,” he continues. “There were too many bodies and your arm wasn’t the only one swinging. I wasn’t going to let them punish one guy without punishing the whole team. They chose the team.”
I swallow, and nod my head, still keeping my eyes on the floor. “Thank you.”
“Let’s go take care of business.”
I squint, finally looking up at him. “Aren’t we playing Leo’s team tonight?”
“Sure are.”
“Do you ever have mixed feelings about that?”
He purses his lips with a shake of his head. “I’m Leo Alvarez’s number one fan all the time. Except for when he’s playing my boys.” He winks at me, taps me with the folder he’s been holding, and heads toward the door.
When it shutters closed behind him. I let out the breath I’d been holding.
The last time I was at this door, I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. And the last time I saw the girl on the other side of it, she watched me come undone.
Tonight, I plan to return the favor.
Chloe opens the front door and her mouth parts into a perfect little O. Her eyes momentarily drop to my forearms as I grip the knot of the tie at the base of my neck and give it a little tug.
“I like your outfit,” she says.
My gaze travels down her little pink T-shirt, over her sliver of skin that's peeking out above her sleep shorts, and down her toned legs. “I like yours better.”
She drops her head, trying to hide her smile before holding her arm out, gesturing for me to come in.
A small lamp hovers over a candle on the entertainment stand, acting as the only light in the otherwise dark apartment.
“How was the game?” she asks.
“We lost.”
“Oh.”
I turn to face her, shrugging off my suit jacket. “They were better.”
She twists her fingers, cracking her knuckles, but she doesn’t look away. I can tell she’s nervous, and when she doesn’t say anything else, I say, “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
She strums her bottom lip, eyes falling to the floor between us.
“I wanted to apologize,” I say.
She looks up, sharply. “Don’t apologize.”
A slow smile spreads across my face.
“I mean… I—I wanted to…I wanted you to,” she fumbles for the words, and I take a step closer, because even though she’s cute when she’s flustered, that's not what tonight is about.
“Okay, well, that was last night,” I say, sliding my hand between hers, and lacing our fingers together. Her shoulders relax instantly, like just the touch of my hand is enough to fix things. I turn, pushing open the door to her bedroom. “Tonight, let's do something I want.”
There are no candles or light from a TV in her room. Only the moon shining through the wall of widows, basking her in its glow. I stop when she’s standing at the edge of her bed, and she looks up at me.
“What do you want?” she asks.
I run my fingers through her hair, cupping her neck at the end, and she shudders when I drop my lips to her ear. “You.”
She swallows hard, and her eyes flick back up to mine. I guide her backward toward the bed, feeling the subtle pull of her hand against mine.
Once she’s seated, I let my hands slide to her waist, and the warmth of her skin seeps into my palms. I lift them slowly, inch by inch, pausing only when I reach her breasts and feel nothing but bare skin.
I look into her eyes, a silent question, one she answers by lifting her arms above her head.
I peel the fabric away, tossing it blindly over my shoulder, never once breaking eye contact.
She bites down on her bottom lip, nervous in a way that somehow only makes her more beautiful.
Her fingers twist together in her lap, and whether intentional or not, the movement causes her breasts to press together.
They’re a generous handful, and her pebbled nipples are the exact shade of pink I imagined them to be.
“Lie back.”
Without hesitancy, she sinks into the mattress. Her hands hover over her chest, not completely covering them, but not quite brave enough to let them fall away either.
“Arms up,” I murmur.
Her pink tipped fingers trail across the sheets, disappearing under a pillow above her head.
The stretch pulls her long beneath me, opening her up in a way that nearly steals the breath from my lungs.
I let my eyes take their time, moving over her slowly, letting her feel the weight of my attention tracing over every inch of her.
“Are you always this good, Chloe?”
Her thighs press together, just a fraction, small enough that if I wasn’t watching her so closely I might have missed it.
A slow grin curls at the corner of my mouth because of course she likes being praised.
I brace one arm onto the mattress beside her and guide the hand resting on her chest into mine.
My lips find her shoulder first, and as I pull her hand away, I feel the hitch in her breath before I hear it.
I shift my weight, letting my mouth follow the curves of her body, and press a kiss to the top of her breast.
A soft sound escapes her lips, and I circle her nipple with my tongue—once, twice—before taking it fully into my mouth. Her back arches beneath me, and I give a little nip of my teeth, before soothing it with another slow sweep of my tongue.
I use my fingers to trace her inner thighs, letting her heat guide me closer to where I want to be.
I dip into her shorts, and my thumb grazes the fabric of her underwear for half a second before her free hand closes around my wrist, stopping me short.
I lift my head, meet her eyes, and watch a deep blush creep across her face.