Page 73 of IOU

“You’re rather bor—” She sighs, stopping herself. “When I was little, I wanted to be a marine biologist and work with the sea lions. They’ve always been my favorite animal.”

I assumed.

“You don’t now? Want to work with sea lions, I mean.”

She turns her body to face me. “It’s too late. I’m a psychology major now.”

She says it like it’s a death sentence and not something she’s excited to embark on in another couple of years as a career.

“You can change your major.” I don’t see the problem here.

She scoffs like I’m a complete fool. “Do you know how hard it is to get into the marine biology program at Havemeyer?”

I shrug. “I’m guessing hard when you don’t know the right people.” Or have them owe you favors.

“It’sreally, really hard.”

I sit my plate down on the coffee table, exhaustion creeping up on me. “So what, your grades weren’t good enough to get you in?”

She bows her head. “My grades were perfect. I even had a scholarship at another school.”

I feel my eyes widen, fighting the fatigue. “And ...”

“And Tucker got into pre-med here where there were no openings.”

I shift. “You’re telling me that you gave up your dreams so he could pursue his?” I leave off the part about “with another woman” because, obviously, she knows that.

“No!” She stands, her face red and eyes watery. “I was realistic and cared about him. You wouldn’t understand since you care about no one!”

At that, she throws the remote at my chest and storms off, slamming her bedroom door.

Wow. That went sideways fast. I didn’t expect her major to be such a sore spot, but I didn’t know she gave it up for Fuckface.

Shaking my head, I turn the TV off and leave my half-eaten plate and her empty one on the counter before making my way to my room, pausing briefly at the hall closet.

“Ugh,” I moan.

Leave it alone, Maverick. Stop the proverbial bleeding. Let this girl go. You don’t have the time, and she doesn’t have the space. Fuckface did too much damage.

I can’t help it, though. I grab a pillow and blanket, taking it back to the couch and laying it down. And for shits and giggles, I tuck the damn sea lion under it before walking away.

Something—or someone—is hovering above me.

Again.

For the sixth time tonight.

“Stop checking on me.” I groan, snagging the hand on my chest and tugging her entire body across me so she’s wedged into my side before I place her hand back on my heart.

“Now, go to sleep,” I order.

And we do.

Together.

Side by side, making a mess of our contract.

Rumor has it she beat him with a bat.

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