Page 20

You've got to be shitting me. I walk the few steps to my balcony and look out.

Half of the terraces are occupied with men staring down, directly in front of my parking space.

A front-row parking space I've had since I moved in.

Renters want it, but no one dares park in it.

But leave it to my disobedient roommate to indeed be floating in two feet of water in the plastic pool we use for chilling beer, propping her damn feet up on my car.

When I told her to go soak up some sun, I meant for her to go to a sorority house or a club or something. Not drag the pool down to the parking lot and use my hood for a fucking footrest.

I take the steps two at a time, ignoring the audience on their balconies, until I come face first with the biggest pain in my ass.

Ainsley is sprawled out with only the scraps of fabric covering her breasts.

Never mind the straw connected to her reddened lips as she slurps at what I assume to be more wine in her tumbler.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I drawl lazily as if her oiled skin glistening in the sun is doing nothing to my dick.

"Can you move a little to the left?" Her voice is bored and slurred. "You're blocking my sun."

I'm going to block something else of hers if she doesn't get her ass upstairs in the next 2.3 seconds.

I stay rooted to the ground, never moving. After a few awkward seconds tick by, Ainsley raises her ridiculously round shades and sighs. "Can I help you, Maverick? Did I leave the toilet seat down or something?"

God, help me. It takes all my patience not to snatch all one hundred and so pounds of her out of the pool and push her inside. "I told you to make yourself scarce." I take a slow look around as if it isn't obvious that the parking lot of the complex is not scarce .

She takes a long pull from her straw. "I am scarce."

An incredulous snort escapes my lips. "The sidewalk is still in the complex."

"You didn't specify the parameters. You only said I needed to be out of the apartment." She grins as if she's won this debate and swipes a hand through the water before letting the droplets drip into her navel. "It looks to me like I'm outside of the apartment."

My teeth grind, and the muscles in my jaw work to keep me from shouting at her. "You're drawing a crowd," I grit, enunciating each syllable.

"Am I?" She feigns concern, and my patience lowers to negative seven.

"Well, we certainly can't have that." The water sloshes as she pulls herself up, her tits bouncing with the waves, and tosses the tumbler at my feet.

My pants are doused with water. It's not amusing.

But then, she extends her hand, and like a fool, I take it, allowing her to pull me closer, nose to nose.

"Tell me something, Maverick." I hum out a nonanswer, trying to keep my eyes from drifting lower.

"Look closely. Do you see two shits or a fuck anywhere in my eyes? "

I rear back at her words. Did she?—

"I don't give a shit that I'm drawing a crowd," she lashes out, shoving me away. "This is my apartment"—she eyes the vacant spot next to my car—"and my complex. I am not moving just because your little friends can't focus on their game of Go Fish."

She wobbles on her float, and I realize she's drunk. And not only that, she's a mean drunk. "How much have you had to drink?"

I snatch my hand from hers and grab the now empty box of wine. No wonder she tossed the tumbler—she was out.

"Get up," I growl.

Her pupils are wide, but her glare is firm. "No."

This cannot be happening.

"Get up. I won't ask you again." I'm not known for my hospitality.

She laughs, a throaty sound that shoots straight to my dick. Now is not the time, dude. "You don't scare me, Maverick. You men can't hurt me anymore. I won't let you! "

I'm going to carve my initials into Tucker's skin until the only thing he sees in the mirror is the horror of my name.

"Is that what this is all about? Fucking Tucker?"

I can feel the weight of the stares on my back.

"Are you honestly drinking yourself into a stupor because cocksucker Tucker upset you? Again. What did he do this time?"

Her eyes turn glassy, and her lip begins to quiver.

"Don't you fucking cry over that asshole," I demand. "He's not worth it." And frankly, I can't take much more crying. Never in my life have I lost so much sleep worrying over someone. And she's only my roommate.

"He proposed to her," she finally mumbles out through tears.

I release a harsh breath and run my fingers through my hair. The game is about to start.

"Get out of the pool, Ainsley."

At my stern tone, she snaps out of her crying and levels me with a look. "No."

I can't very well leave her out here drunk and in a bikini. God only knows what would happen. College guys are creatures of convenience. A pretty girl, wet and crying? Yeah, she's like a bloody heart tossed into a den of wolves. "I'm not going to ask you again."

She turns her face away and slides her glasses back over her eyes. "Leave me alone, Maverick. Go back to your game."

I hear chuckles above me.

That's it. Fuck it. I asked her nicely and look at where that got me—pissed off.

I crack the bones in my neck and take a deep breath right before I stomp on the edge of the plastic pool, sending the water rushing through my legs.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Ainsley shrieks, trying to stop her float—and her body—from going with the current and right into my clenching hands.

"Am I crazy?" I mock. "I'm not the one shitfaced, floating on an innertube in two feet of water out in the goddamned parking lot. "

"It's the sidewalk," she screams, grabbing onto my pants leg and trying to stand. She wobbles and takes two steps back before I've had enough and grab her arm and haul her over my shoulder.

"Put me down!" Her screams don't come close to masking the laughter from the balconies. "I'm serious, Maverick!"

Ignoring her, I make the weighted steps through the front lobby and punch the button to the elevator. I refuse to carry her kicking and screaming up the stairs.

"I'll scream," she threatens.

"You already screamed, but be my guest and do it one more time for the people who haven't seen your ass cheeks yet."

Her wiggling stops. "Is my ass really hanging out?" It's the first time since I found her that she's sounded sober.

I debate lying to her but decide I'd rather she learn this lesson the hard way. "Yes."

She sucks in a breath and pounds a weak fist into my back. "Put me down!"

"No."

I'm not letting her down. She is coming inside the apartment and sobering the fuck up.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Her voice is strained. Battered. Not the badass it was a few minutes ago when she asked me to look and see if I saw two shits or a fuck in her eyes—something in my chest clenches.

"I'm sorry I took it out on you."

I figured she would be eventually. She doesn't like to be mean.

"Apology accepted, but you're still not getting down until you're inside and clothed."

I feel her stomach concave over my shoulder as if she's accepting defeat, and I relax a little.

"Fine. Will you at least fix my bathing suit? I don't want your friends seeing my butt cheeks."

That's one thing we agree on.

I nod, clearing my throat. "Fine. "

But it's anything but fine when my finger skims up the side of her leg, over the wet and scalding flesh.

She's silent, and not even her breathing can be heard when I slip a finger under the elastic of her bathing suit bottom.

Slowly, I pull the material from the middle, my knuckles grazing the soft and supple skin, before letting go.

Her hands relax against me, and she strokes down my back. "Thank you."

I don't acknowledge her. I'm seconds from slamming her against the wall and seeing what the rest of her feels like.

Finally, the elevator dings and opens. I readjust Ainsley and open the door to our—my apartment.

"Get out," I bark at a wide-eyed, grinning Sebastian. He throws his hands up in a placating manner. "I was on my way out anyway."

He attempts to pass by, and I grab his shirt, forcing his eyes from Ainsley's ass to meet mine. "Tonight's game is canceled. Let everyone know. I don't want any visitors."

Sebastian's tongue snakes out over his smirk and wets his lips. "I'm sure you don't."

A noise rumbles through my chest, and it isn't until Ainsley says, "Bye," that I realize I still have a fistful of his shirt. I shove him away, and he laughs.

"See you tomorrow." He winks. "Goodbye, waitress ."

Fuck. He knows.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

I sigh.

So much for keeping her a secret. Now that Sebastian knows, it won't be long before the others find out. I need a plan, and I need one like yesterday. Everyone knows I don't do girls or roommates. This goes against all the rumors. Dammit.

"Can you set me down now?" Ainsley asks quietly. Even she knows now is not the time to press me.

Giving in, I plant her on her feet, holding on to her arms so she doesn't fall.

"Are you steady? "

She takes a minute, shifting her weight from side to side before nodding. "I think so."

"Good. Go shower and change. I'll make you something to eat."

Are you serious, Maverick? Are you going to tuck her in tonight too?

A hint of a smile plays on Ainsley's lips, but she never lets it loose. "Okay."

Yes, okay. Go. For the love of God, go and take that fucking bathing suit off.

When she finally manages to shuffle to her room, and out of sight, I take a deep, cleansing breath.

What the fuck am I doing?

I never show my cards.