Page 74 of Reckless Hearts

Why the hell would he do it? What makes him care so much?

My mind reels, spinning a dozen ways to make sense of what I can’t seem to.

I could chase after him, confront him with the questions that are gnawing at me, but I don’t.

The anger and confusion crash against each other, leaving a muddied wake of something far more unsettling.

“What crawled up his ass?” Curtis shakes his head.

“I don’t know how you haven’t laid him out over the years. He treats you like shit.”

My nerves snap.

“That guy just loaded your truck for you,” I shoot back. “You should worry about your own asshole tendencies.”

“Hey, I was just saying… ’cause I know you two don’t get along, and he just left without saying anything…” He stutters like he just realized he stepped on a land mine.

“Yeah… he’s like that.”

The bottle’s empty when I go to take another sip, and I groan under my breath.

This guy’s right. Maverick does normally treat me like shit. That’s the norm between us. So why did he take a blow for me?

Sparks prickle along my skin, the unfamiliar feeling out of place when thinking of him.

Grabbing the back of my neck, my fingers come back sticky with sweat.

But first, I need to shower.

“Thanks for the beer,” I mutter.

Curtis gestures toward where the parking lot wraps around the other side of the building.

“There’s more where that came from. You helped a lot. I owe you. The rest of the guys are around the back.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got to wash the scum off me.”

My face twists. “I’m fucking disgusting.”

Just thinking about taking a shower has me almost forgetting about my unwanted roommate. Almost.

I insert my cordless earbuds, turning the song up until my mood starts to shift to match the raging beat as I make my way up the stairs to my room.

Nothing saysdon’t talk to melike music at full blast.

Key card lifted at the ready, I hesitate at the door.

The last thing I wanna do is come face-to-face with Maverick until I know what I’m gonna say to him. Thanking him will be like eating sand, and it’s gonna take more than one beer in the shower for me to be up to it.

He didn’t have to take that blow for me. It would’ve been easier, safer for him to just let it happen.

Instead, he jumped in front of me, pushing me out of the way like some kind of fucking hero.

Fuck it.

The lock beeps, and the door clicks open. I take a long, slow inhale, bracing myself, then walk inside.

The room’s small enough that a quick glance is all I need to know I’m the only one here.

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