Page 27

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Rumor has it he likes wearing women’s clothes.

Maverick

“ T his is escalating, Maverick. I thought the last time we spoke you had everything under control?”

I watch as Ainsley paces the small ER room, on the phone with Fuckface. He had an extra shift open and knew she needed the money. She doesn’t, but I felt like I couldn’t interrupt since Dr. Kallay has been in my damn face for the past ten minutes.

“Maverick?”

This is all such a mess.

“Everything is under control,” I promise, noting and discarding the disbelieving gaze of my cardiologist.

“So this was random? You haven’t had any stress or lifestyle changes here recently?”

I almost bark out a laugh and ask him to see Exhibit A pacing my hospital room animatedly. “No.”

“So, what do you think triggered the tachycardia if not from your usual stressors?”

Uh, let’s see.

I had a great time with a girl last night playing a stupid fucking game that wasn’t poker.

I might have been pissed off that I allowed her to see the real me.

Then, I might have been so mad that I reacted and told Mike just to find her somewhere to stay ASAP, agreeing I would cover the additional rent just as long as she was gone sooner rather than later.

But then she had to slide that fucking five hundred thousand IOU under my door. Fuck, what did it say again? Oh yeah, IOU too many favors to count—consider my life yours. Do with me as you wish.

I read that damn IOU fifteen times before I finally realized the pressure in my chest was mounting.

Not even a run after she left soothed it.

Not that she caused the tachycardia. I’d been battling it for a few days now, but after last night—the night I realized I wanted Ainsley James and not just for the semester but for longer—that’s when all hell broke loose.

For the first time since all this happened, I wanted to be selfish.

“Have you continued working?”

My gaze snaps to my doctor. Speaking about work is a no-go zone. “N?—”

“Yes, he has,” Ainsley interrupts, apparently finished with her call. “All the time. He’s on his laptop all the time.”

My dick twitches, and this is so not the time.

Is she seriously ratting me out again?

I’m fucking speechless and not that it matters because I can always squash what she thinks with a few well-placed rumors, but how?

How does she know? Better yet, what does she know?

I’ve never given her an opportunity to see the truth of what I was doing.

Granted, she’s seen me on my laptop, but I could have been fucking around on the internet. How does she know I’ve been working?

The monitor I’m connected to starts beeping faster.

Dr. Kallay frowns. “I thought you were going to tell your grandfather about it. We discuss?—”

“I know,” I cut him off. “He had a setback. I promise I’ll tell him.”

Like when I graduate, and it no longer matters.

“Maverick, listen, I know you’re trying to protect him, but you’re killing yourself. He wouldn’t want you to do this.”

A quick look at Ainsley shows she’s listening to every word Dr. Kallay is vomiting out. She’s not even trying to hide it .

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I sigh, a deep, weighted type of sigh.

Dr. Kallay gets the hint. “Get some rest. I’ll be back later, and we’ll finish this conversation.”

Can’t wait.

I nod tightly, considering leaving against medical advice as soon as he leaves.

When the door closes, I make it a point not to look at Ainsley. The ceiling is good. It’s nice and plain and not gorgeous or concerned about me.

“How are you feeling?” The bed shifts under her weight. So much for ignoring her. “Can I get you anything?”

“No.” The answer is rude considering all she’s done for me today, but I feel exposed, and that’s not a place I like to be. I mean, why now? Why did she come into my life now instead of two years from now? I’d have my shit together by then.

“How do you know about my job?” I probe, redirecting the conversation to something more productive than my health.

She stands, folding her arms, and shrugs. “You left your laptop open in the living room.”

Bullshit. No way does she know enough from me leaving it open. It’s locked. Who told her? Sebastian? But he wouldn’t dare speak to her outside of my presence. He’s crazy but not stupid. I cock a brow for her to continue.

“No, sir,” she scolds, appearing quite cute with a dainty scowl on her face. “You are in no position to demand. We’ll negotiate.”

I scoff, but she ignores it.

“For every one of the answers I give you, I get one in return.”

No is right on the tip of my tongue, but so are other words like thank you and come— “Fine. What’s your question?”

“Were you scared earlier when they gave you the medicine?” She looks down at her hands, wringing them tightly. “The one that stopped your heart for a moment . . .”

It was a weak moment on my part and exactly why I stay with contracts and IOUs. I don’t do owing people anything, especially explanations. And especially explanations to Ainsley.

“Yes.”

I’m not explaining. She was there. I reached for her hand, for fuck’s sake.

No way am I talking my way around that one.

I was fucked-up when they gave it to me.

“It was the first time they’ve ever had to convert my rhythm with medicine.

” Hence the reason I’m here for longer and not already back home, pouring beer through the deck of the balcony.

“How did you know about my job?” I ask again.

She grins smugly. “I didn’t. But I tried to silence your notification earlier, and I may”—she drags the words out like she’s proud of herself and finally has something on me—“have read the preview of an email you received about IRAs, CEOs, and such. Are you like The Wolf of Wall Street guy?”

I let out a sigh of relief. Good. She doesn’t know everything.

“Is that your question? Am I like The Wolf of Wall Street ?” I want to laugh so bad, but I hold it in, maintaining her seriousness.

She nods, never moving her arms. Weird.

“No, I’m not. I’m not a stock trader. My grandfather owns an investment company that I help out with from time to time. You could say I’m a part-time broker.”

Partial truth and her eyes narrowing to slits tell me she knows it.

“My turn.” I can already feel my mouth twitching at the corner. “What’s going on with—” I tip my chin in the direction of her folded arms.

“With my arms?” she suggests.

Yep, that’s exactly what I mean. Let’s get off the topic of me. “Yeah, your arms. You cold?”

A faint puff escapes her lips.

She won’t give me the satisfaction of admitting why she’s standing there, suddenly stiff and awkward when she had no problem bossing me around earlier.

“I’m fine,” she lies .

I nod, feeling a tiny, baby grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “You can turn the air up if you’re cold. The thermostat is on the wall.”

She won’t, though, because then she will have to drop her arms.

“Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’m fine.”

My eyes never leave hers. “Did you hurt your arm fanning the smoke detector earlier?”

She can’t contain the eye roll. “Funny. But no. I just happen to find this position comfortable.”

She shrugs, but it’s forced and still blocked with her folded arms.

“Really?” I challenge, the monitors going off again.

Settle down, Maverick. No one needs to come in here and realize the reason the monitors are going off is because your roommate is turning you on.

She cranes her neck to look at them. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Answer my question.”

Now isn’t the time to admit that bantering with her excites me.

“I did. I told you it’s a comfortable position. You should try it. You might find it’s more comfortable than keeping that scowl on your face all day.”

A hearty chuckle bursts from me. “Is that so?”

She nods. “Yep. It must be hard forcing a frown all day.”

“How do you know it’s forced?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Science. It’s been proven you use more muscles in your face frowning than you do smiling. You would know that if you went to class.”

Again with the class attendance. “I go to class.”

She nails me with an annoyed look that makes me laugh.

“Sometimes,” I amend. “Happy? I go to class sometimes .”

“How do you get away with that?”

Easy.

“Maverick shows up.”

It’s not actually that hard. Most professors do not care what body calls out “here. ”

Her mouth drops open in an O. “Who would voluntarily go to class for you?”

I arch a brow. We’re wading into forbidden territory. “Who says they volunteer?”

She gasps and covers her mouth with her palm, leaving her chest in plain view.

“I knew it! That’s what you use the IOUs for! So you can work during the day but still attend classes!”

Fuck her and her astute reasoning.

“Is crossing your arms as comfortable as me holding a frown?” I bring her attention back to her chest and off my life.

“Oh my God!”

She will never learn.

“Fine!” she admits almost shamefully. “I don’t have a bra on and”—she takes a breath—“I thought you were sleeping and didn’t think I would be going out tonight.”

Suddenly, being trapped here, vulnerable in her presence, feels much better.

I drag a finger lazily around my lips. “I see. So you came home and took off your bra?” I just want her to elaborate.

“You were supposed to be sleeping! I thought you were sick!”

My oh my. How this day has perked up, literally.

“And here we are. Me shirtless and you braless. Oh, the rumors that will be spread tomorrow.”

Not that I care. I just want her to know that whatever rumors are created around me will now include her. Yes, she and I have a contract, but I’m not sure I have enough IOUs to keep her quiet about all of this.

I’ve never had this happen.

Sebastian and Rowan know the truth about the favors, but they profit from my deals by collecting interest. I don’t need the money. I just want the IOU. But Ainsley won’t profit. There’s nothing to stop her from getting mad at me and spilling everything she knows about my IOU operation .