Page 9 of Wild Love
“What are they doing here?” I ask as we both step in, and Maverick lets the sheet fall back into place.
“I’m not sure. Maybe outdoor seating.”
“Oooh, that’ll be nice.” I picture it—sitting outside studying or chatting with the girls. That makes me think of Sienna not being there, and my heart hurts again.
When I turn to face him, Maverick’s gaze is pinned on me. Like earlier, he smirks, but his eyes are hard and swirl with emotion I can’t decipher. I’m blaming the shirt. This shirt was designed with college boys’ dirtiest fantasies in mind.
“Won’t they be able to see us with the light?”
“I don’t think so,” he says, staring out. From our side, it’s only darkness. “I couldn’t see the guys working yesterday when they were in here.”
“Go outside and tell me if you can see me.”
The sheet makes a crinkling noise as he steps to the other side.
“Anything.” I wave my hands at my side.
“Little bit of movement, but when you stand still, I can’t see anything.”
“What about now.” I step closer to the plastic but keep my hands next to my body.
“No.”
One step closer so that I’m almost standing directly against it. “Now?”
He chuckles. “No. Can I come back in before they spot me standing out here?”
I glance at my phone. “They shouldn’t have left yet.”
“Yeah, well, they’re all going to be anxious to find us and go back and bang.”
“And you’re not? Vanilla might have found another set of abs to go home with by now.”
“I’m coming back in.”
“Wait,” I order. His footsteps outside stop. Curling my fingers around the bottom of my shirt, I roll the fabric up. The breeze buds my nipples, and I smile at the daring move knowing he’s clueless. “Anything?”
His response is delayed, and I panic for a second, thinking maybe he can see me.
“Nah, nothing, babe.”
The light flickers above me, brightening and then dimming again. Quickly, I right my shirt and pull back the plastic separating us. “I think we’re all good.”
Mav and I sit side by side against the library wall. He pulls out a bottle of Mad Dog from his jeans pocket and offers me a drink. Humoring him, I take a small sip before handing it back.
“I’ll never understand why that’s your drink of choice.”
“It’s sweet and sticky.” He winks and caps the bottle, then sets it between us. “Actually, I drink it because it pisses my dad off.”
“Why does it piss him off?”
“It isn’t exactly the kind of alcohol you serve at a black-tie function.”
“Let me guess.” I find myself smiling. “You would sneak it in just to get a rise out of him?”
He doesn’t answer, but his expression says everything.
The wind blows my hair around my face, and I tuck it behind my ears and then hug my knees to my chest. Despite the warm weather during the day, the night air is chilly.
