He had white hair, a weathered face, and held onto a wooden cane with owl engravings on the top. His button-down shirt was untucked and his khaki pants were wrinkled and worn.

  “Good evening. Can I help you, son?”

  I wiped the back of my neck with my palm. Did he not have air conditioning or an air unit? Guessing by the industrial fan in the corner, probably not.

  “Yes, Sir. I’m looking for a job, and I noticed your sign in the window.”

  He nodded, pointing his finger at me before walking around the counter. “It’s about time. I’ve needed some help for a month.”

  “Well, I’d work hard.”

  He pulled out a pair of old glasses from his shirt and looked at me over the rim of them. “You in school?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He hummed under his breath while he handed me an application. I sat down on a stool and filled it out.

  “You from here?” he asked.

  “Zachary, right down the road,” I said, handing him the paper once I finished.

  He skimmed it. “You’ve got the job.”

  That didn’t take long. I offered him my hand. “Just like that?” I asked.

  He lifted an unruly eyebrow. “You plan on robbing me?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Okay then,” he said sitting down. “You’re hired.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Write down your schedule here, and I’ll get something set up for you. Can you work weekends?”

  I nodded and scribbled down my schedule for him, including football games and practices. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m Artie, don’t call me sir.”

  Dooley noted.

  “I’ll give you minimum wage now. I need help lifting furniture, taking care of the room and honestly just need a break from this place. I’ve been running it alone for over thirty years.”

  “I can do that.”

  He gave me a curt nod. “Okay. Come by tomorrow when you have a chance, and I’ll have a schedule ready for you.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Artie left without another word. Something about his silence and bluntness settled well with me. I liked him.

  When I got back to the apartment, Frankie and Jordan were in the living room playing some video games. “Where have you been?” Frankie asked.

  I tossed my bag and plopped down on the couch beside him. “Job hunting.”

  “Oh, yeah? Did you find one?” Jordan asked. I nodded. “Really? You found an on-campus job this late?”

  “Nah, it’s a small antique shop downtown. It’s part-time, and will give me some income to help Frankie.”

  Jordan frowned. Most of the football players didn’t work, because it was too much, and their parents paid for most of their expenses.

  Frankie gave me the side-eye. “I can get a part-time job to help, Maverick. You don’t have to do everything.”

  I shrugged. “It’s fine, you need to focus on graduating.”

  Frankie frowned but didn’t argue. My gaze traveled to Josie’s door where the light was off beneath it.

  “She’s not home,” Frankie said. “She had to work in the writing center today.”

  I shrugged, which earned me a laugh from both of them. “Tomorrow we’re going to Baton Rouge High School to sign you up.”

  “Mom signed the guardianship papers? How?”

  I didn’t want Frankie to worry about how I got the money. Or the fact that I owed Josie five hundred dollars. I stretched my legs out on the couch and ran my fingers through my hair. “I talked her into it. Be ready at one. After class, we’re stopping by to get my schedule at my job and then to the school.”

  Jordan eyed me. “You got a lot going on, Booker. Are you worried about your classes?”

  Everything seemed easy so far. I’d aced my classes in high school. The hard subjects like math and science were easy for me, it was the writing crap I hated. “I’m fine.”

  The front door opened, and the smell of pizza came with it. Josie walked inside holding three pizzas. I sat up straight, my gaze lingered on her like it’d been years since I saw her.

  Her dark eyes shifted to mine while Frankie grabbed the pizzas and carried them for her. She slid her small pink tongue across her bottom lip and tucked her hair. I hated how badly my body reacted.

  In a pair of loose blue jean shorts and a t-shirt, she looked sexy, even with her natural face and long dark hair.

  “Hey,” I finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Hey, I got pizza for everyone,” she said, excitement in her voice.

  Jordan jumped up. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  He left us alone in the living room, which startled her and she tried to follow. “Wait,” I said, catching her elbow. “You look excited. What is it?”

  She smirked. “I received an email from the art director and he wants me to come by his office tomorrow. He saw my piece and was impressed.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  An awkward silence fell over us, so I cleared my throat. “I—I’m sorry about your lamp.”

  Josie chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s okay.”

  She lowered her eyes to the floor. Slowly, I lifted her chin with two fingers, and I felt my breath leak slowly from my lungs. “No, it’s not. I have—I have many pent-up emotions and I need to deal with them. Taking them out on you, whether I love every second of kissing you or not, it’s not fair.”

  Josie blinked slowly like she couldn’t believe any of this. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it,” she whispered.

  Heat snaked its way up my body.

  “And you’re right,” she said, meeting my gaze. “King doesn’t make me feel that good.”

  Emotions swarmed me. The urge to kiss her, to drag her to my room and never leave taunted me. I stepped forward and my mind swirled at the thought of kissing her in front of Jordan and Frankie, who I could see staring at us.

  Then the door opened.

  Waverly walked inside, without knocking, stopping when she noticed us in the living room. She wore cheer shorts, with a midriff tank top and a smile that sent my irritation into overdrive.

  “Oh, hey, y’all. Smells good in here.”

  When she shut the door behind her, my blood began to boil. “What are you doing here?” I asked, sliding my palm down Josie’s arm to her hand.

  I don’t know why I did it. I’d never held Josie’s hand, but I wanted Waverly to know she was wasting her time. Waverly’s eyes dropped to our hands. “I had no idea you two were … a couple?”

  She slung her purse onto our couch.

  “We’re not—,”

  “What’s it to you?” I asked. “Why are you even here?”

  Jordan walked into the living room with a piece of pizza hanging out of his mouth. “Hey, chill out, she can come over whenever she wants.”

  I swallowed the urge to cuss him out. How stupid could he be? On the other hand, all Jordan saw was a pair of legs to slide between. He didn’t know Waverly—neither did I—but I knew enough to know a snake when I saw one.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said sweetly.

  Josie squeezed my hand and pulled me toward the kitchen table. I knew Waverly had alternative motives, sure, but why hadn’t she already just told King about it? It wouldn’t hurt my feelings to see King upset and know Josie belonged with me.

  Waverly walked past us and sat in Jordan’s lap, whispering into his ear and giggling. I clutched my fingers into a fist, grabbed an entire box, and stood up. “Come with me, Josie.”

  She looked up from her half-eaten pizza but followed me to my room. When I shut the door, she gave me a look. “What’s that about?”

  I put the box down and gestured for her to sit across from me. I sighed. “She’s using Jordan.”

  Josie smirked. “Yeah, she seemed pretty into you at the art thingy. You think she’s trying to make you jealous?”

  “Yes,” I snagged a piece. “But I’m worried that she’ll tell King, or … I don’t know.”

  Josie silently finished her slice of pizza. “Would it be so bad if she did tell King?”

  I watched her dark eyes examine a second slice before meeting my gaze. “You tell me,” I said.

  She shrugged. “I told you before that—I like him but he doesn’t compare.”

  Leaning back onto my elbows, I glared at her. “So, you’re admitting I was right?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “More or less.” I chuckled. “But that doesn’t mean I know what’s going on between us. I—I’m confused, to be honest. I don’t know what to think about this.”

  Truth be told, I didn’t either. “I’m not a label this kind of guy, Josie. You should know that.”

  Josie watched me finish off a slice. “Well, I’m a label this kind of girl, Maverick. I can’t do whatever this is and not know that you’re not going and sleeping with tons of girls and—,”

  I sat up straight. “Just because I don’t know what to call us doesn’t mean I’d go sleeping around with every girl on campus. Have you seen me with a girl since you moved in? You’re the one going out with King.”

  Josie’s cheeks turned red. “That’s because I thought you hated me. You can’t say we were friends before this. This just happened.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “And I want this to continue, and I want you to trust me.”

  Josie swallowed. “What happened?” she whispered. “What changed your mind—better yet, what did I do in the first place?”

  I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to tell her what happened because I knew she didn’t know—or remember—but the images that surfaced strangled my throat.

  Blood. Fear. Sadness. Stars. Noises.

  Before I could stop myself, I’d doubled over, my head between my thighs, trying desperately to catch my breath.

  Josie’s small hands grabbed my biceps and she lifted them above my head, squatted down in front of me, and mimicked a calm breathing technique. “Breathe, Maverick.”

  I tried, but my lungs turned to fire.

  “Breathe,” she said again.

  Slowly the air in the room filled my lungs. Josie sat back on her shins and glared at me. “You need to see someone.”

  I scoffed, shoving the sweat that’d gathered at my hairline away. “I don’t need help—,”

  “That’s not normal,” she said. “You need to see a counselor. Or … talk to someone, even if it can’t be me.”

  It couldn’t be Josie. Not now. Not ever. I treaded thin water just being around her, giving into my attraction. I wanted to say sorry, but I didn’t. I laid back and covered my face with my palms.

  Josie’s quiet footsteps stopped at my doorway. “I’ll break it off with King if you get help.”

  “What?”

  Josie faced me, worry sketched across her pretty face. “I’ll break it off if you get help.”

  Could anyone help me? I wasn’t sure. Had I waited too long for salvation? “Josie, I’m not sure it’ll work—,”

  She shrugged. “How do you know if you don’t try?”

  “Okay,” I said softly. “I’ll seek out a counselor tomorrow.”

  Josie nodded and turned toward the door. I jolted up and stopped her, my palm resting above her head against the door. She slowly turned to face me, only a hairbreadth between our mouths.

  “But,” I whispered. “You’ll break it off with King?”

  Josie nodded. “Promise.”

  I sealed the distance between us and kissed her. Her small hands slid up toward my shirt and she bunched the fabric into a fist. The kiss was hungrier than the others were, even more so than the night before, when I’d been drunk.

  The softness of her moans, and her gasp when I maneuvered my thigh between her own, sent my need into a frenzy. I clasped my palm around her neck, and she bit my bottom lip in return.

  Unable to stop myself, I lifted her to my hips and pressed her against the back of my door.

  Hungrily, I kissed her deep, keeping a firm grasp on the hair at the nape of her neck. She ground down against my waist and mumbled something incoherently.

  I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t care.

  Knock. Knock.

  I kissed her harder, grabbing her bottom in my palm, making her moan into my kiss. She tried to turn her head but I caught her mouth with mine. “Not yet,” I whispered. “I’ve waited so long for this.”

  Knock Knock.

  I hit above Josie’s head, against the door, thinking they’d get the hint.

  They didn’t.

  Knock Knock.

  An unknown feral noise came from my throat and I stepped away, Josie still around my hips while I opened the door. She yelped and hid her head in my shoulder.

  Waverly stood on the other side, holding another box of pizza in one hand, her eyes wide at the scene in front of her. “Oh—we, uh—we saved y’all some—,"

  “Not hungry,” I said, slamming the door in her face.

  Josie groaned in embarrassment. “Ya know,” she said. “I may not have to tell King because I think she may do it for me.”

  I chuckled, carrying her back to my bed, and laid her down against the comforter. “She’s probably got him on speed dial; he is on the football team. She seems to be trying her way down the list.”

  Josie narrowed her eyes at me. “You can’t blame her for wanting your attention.”

  Tracing her bottom lip with my thumb, I watched her. “Why did you let me bully you all those years, Josie? And why stand up to me now?”

  She sighed deeply. “I was scared. You came in like a celebrity, everyone loved you, and you hated me. When I graduated, I knew that I wanted things to be different. I wanted to be different.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Deep down, I never wanted to hurt you. You didn’t deserve it.”

  I saw the questions lingering on her tongue. She wanted to know as badly as I wanted to tell her, but the little boy inside wouldn’t let me.

  He still held onto that day with a vice-like grip. I’d go to counseling for Josie, I’d go because I was tired and my need to live a normal life trumped my need for justice.

  At least, I prayed it did.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Josie

  I’m awake when my alarm goes off. Everything from the night before swirled in my head like a hurricane. I knew I had a quiz in Chapman’s Algebra class today, and I needed the rest, but my body refused to shut off.

  Nothing a giant cup of Joe couldn’t conquer.

  I peeled myself from bed, grabbing my clothes to make it to the bathroom before the boys. Most days they had football practice before class, but with the game only a day away, I figured they had a day to rest.

  I walked past Maverick’s door, listening to the silence. I couldn’t sleep in silence, I needed a box fan or rain sounds to get through the night. I slipped into the bathroom, stripped, and stood in the hot water.

  Thoughts of the night before floated in and out of my reach. Besides the obvious make-out session that still had my blood pumping wildly, I’d witness Maverick have a mini panic attack.

  This wasn’t the person I knew in school. He most likely hid it from everyone. Being the King of campus didn’t come to people who had panic attacks. But why? I bit my bottom lip, washing the conditioner from my hair.

  I needed to know.

  At least he’d agreed to get help, which would maybe—hopefully—turn into him telling me what happened one day. I’d have to work on my patience. I slipped out of the shower, dressed, and brushed my teeth.

  My phone buzzed against the counter.

  King: You got plans this weekend?

  I cringed. The other part of our agreement climbed up my throat. I needed to break whatever this was off with King. He hadn’t done anything bad to me. I hated myself for it. The old me said to get a grip and kick Maverick to the curb.

  I couldn’t.

  Not now that I understood, he held onto something.

  Chewing on my lip, I started my text but stopped when the bathroom door popped open. I squealed. A sleepy Maverick stood on the other side. “How did you get the door opened? It’s locked.”

  He braced himself against the doorjamb with his palm. My gaze lowered to his lack of a shirt, and low-slung sweats. I knew Maverick wasn’t my boyfriend, but I didn’t care, not at that moment anyway.

  Could I openly touch not my boyfriend, as I wanted to? I didn’t think he’d mind, but he’d always been the first to make a move.

  I mentally rolled my eyes. This is college, Josie. You can do whatever you want to do. Who is going to tell you to stop?

  Maverick’s chuckle sent the hair on my arm to attention. “If you look at me like that any longer, I’ll have to lock the door back, with both of us inside.”

  That didn’t sound like too bad of an idea. I slid my bottom lip into my mouth and pressed my teeth against it.

  Maverick stepped forward, shutting and locking the door behind him, he lifted me onto the counter. “You like what you see?” he asked softly.

  I smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I think I already do,” he said, sliding his bent index finger down the center of my throat.

  My phone buzzed again when Maverick maneuvered his way between my parted thighs. “You need to get that?” he whispered against my ear.

  I shivered. “No, I know who it is.”

  He inhaled my scent and licked a line up my neck to my jaw. “Hmm, who is it?” He nipped my jawline and then my bottom lip. His mouth moved against mine like satin, but I realized he was waiting for an answer.

  “It’s King.”

  Maverick’s jaw tightened, and his fingers trailed against my thigh to my waist. “What does he want?”

  Maverick sucked against my neck, making my eyes close and my fingers clutch around the counter beneath me. “To go out.”

  He pulled me closer to him by my hips and whispered against my neck. “I assume you’re going to tell him?”

  I nodded heavily and swallowed. “I am.”

  Maverick pulled back to look at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I made an appointment with the school’s counselor today.”

 

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