Chapter 3

Not long after we arrived, we ran into a mutual friend, Lexi, and a couple of girls Quinn has Econ with. We ended up hanging with them for a while and at some point, a couple guys ended up joining us. I had met one of them before, Harris. I had Lit with him last year. But the other, Max, I’ve never seen before. Apparently, he just transferred to UT this fall. And he’s a junior, like me and Quinn. That’s about the extent of what I’ve learned so far.

“Um, yes,” she disagrees. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night.”

“We’ve just been talking.” I shrug, feeling heat slide up my neck.

In truth, I’m kind of getting a vibe from Max, like maybe he’s interested, but I was worried the alcohol might have me imagining things that aren’t really there. Hard to believe he’d be into me when there’s someone like Quinn sitting right next to me.

“Is that what you call what you two were doing on the dance floor a few minutes ago?” she hollers over the music a little louder than necessary.

“Shut up.” I shove her shoulder, nodding to the bartender when he sets our drinks on the bar in front of us. Reaching forward I take both, turning to hand one to Quinn.

I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had. Not so many that I’m tripping over my own two feet, but enough that my cheeks feel warm and I can’t seem to stop smiling, or shaking my hips to the music.

Quinn turns, taking my free hand before pulling me alongside her through the thick crowd of people. Max smiles at me as we rejoin the group at our table, and I’d be lying if I said the sight didn’t make me feel a little fluttery on the inside.

I mean, come on. How could it not? Max is H.O.T. hot. No other way around it. Tall, broad, muscular. Blond hair, blue eyes, the perfect little dimple in his chin. And don’t even get me started on his smile... Swoon.

I catch sight of a couple of guys I recognize from the baseball team sitting a few tables over as I slide onto my stool. They must have gotten here recently or I would have noticed them already. I’ve kind of been keeping an eye out for Rome. Sucks that I feel like I always have to be on guard.

Thankfully, Rome isn’t with them. And given how late it’s getting to be, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t show at all. He usually doesn’t stay out super late when he does come out. At least, not that I’ve ever witnessed.

“Everything okay?” Max’s voice draws my attention back to him. I quickly scrub my expression as I turn toward him.

“Great.” I smile, nodding enthusiastically.

“Feel up to another dance?”

“Sure.” I take a long pull of my margarita as I stand. “Be back,” I tell Quinn, setting my glass in front of her so that I don’t have to worry about someone messing with it.

“Have fun.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I crinkle my nose at her before turning back to Max, who has his hand outstretched. My smile widens as I set my hand in his and allow him to lead me to the dance floor.

We catch the last half of a fast song and have just found our rhythm when the music shifts and another song, one with a much slower tempo, starts. Max, a good four inches taller than me, kneads his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls me closer, his hands going to my hips as mine drape across the back of his neck.

The slow beat of the music lulls us into what feels like our own private bubble. One that reeks of alcohol and desire. It’s so thick in the air that I can taste it on my tongue. And by the way Max’s expression shifts, he can too.

This isn’t me. I’m not the kind of girl who meets a stranger at a bar and invites him back to her place. But I’m about to. It’s so close to sliding past my lips that I almost hear the words.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Hearing his voice is like being doused with a bucket of cold water. I can feel the imaginary icy liquid slide over my shoulders and down my back, chilling me to my very core.

I turn, ready to tell Rome to go fuck himself, when I realize it’s not me he’s talking to, but Max.

“What?” Max seems taken aback by how quickly Rome is in his face.

“You know what.” He shoves him in the chest, pushing him backward a couple of steps. “Mine.” The word rips from his throat.

Mine?

My buzzed brain spins with confusion.

Max looks from Rome to me and then back to Rome.

“Fuck, Rome. I didn’t know.” He tosses his hands up.

“Well, now you fucking do.” Rome gets so close to his face that their noses almost touch. “Now, walk the fuck away.”

Max nods, sliding past me without as much as a backward glance.

And then my eyes are on him...

On all six-foot-three, two hundred pounds of solid muscle that makes up Roman Danvers.

In a wrinkled t-shirt and gym shorts, he looks like he just rolled out of bed.

His arm muscles tense, straining against the seam of his shirt.

A vein in his neck throbs, like it’s about to burst open at any moment.

His dark, unruly hair, is sticking up in all directions.

And then I finally look at his face.

A face way too beautiful to belong to a man like him.

I’m not above admitting that he looks like he was chiseled from stone. He’s that perfect.

Sharp features.

Cheekbones for days.

And those eyes... A deadly combination of gray and blue that I swear sometimes can see right through me.

But none of this distracts me from the deep-seated resentment I feel for everything he’s put me through. Because no matter how attractive he might be, I know how ugly he is on the inside. He may be fooling everyone else, but he’s not fooling me.

“What the hell was that?” I demand once I find my voice, gesturing somewhere in the vicinity of where Max took off with his tail between his legs.

“What was what?” He seems annoyed and I have half a mind to kick him right in the shin, because that’s the best my brain can come up with in my current state.

“That.” I once again gesture off somewhere in the distance. “With Max.”

“That’s between me and Max and doesn’t concern you,” he snarls.

“Well, considering you just interrupted my dance with him, I’d say it does.”

“Shows what you know.” He shoves past me, his arm knocking into my shoulder.

I turn, screaming at his back, “You’re an asshole.” He stops abruptly, looking over his shoulder.

“And you, little Bex, are way out of your league.” With that, he stomps toward the table where his friends are. I watch, frozen to the spot, as they have a brief conversation before Rome turns and heads for the door.

“What the hell was that?” I jump at the sound of Quinn’s voice, having not heard her approach.

“Roman fucking Danvers doing what he does best,” I seethe, spinning toward my friend, who pushes my drink into my hand. I take it willingly, wasting no time before tipping it to my lips. I drink it dry in a matter of seconds. “Why does he have to ruin everything?” I groan in frustration.

“Because you let him.” She doesn’t try to sugar coat her response. And really, how can I argue with the truth?

“I need some air.” I abruptly turn, setting my glass on a random table as I head toward the exit.

“What the hell did he say to Max?” Quinn is fast on my heels as soon as I step outside.

“Something about him knowing something.” I shrug. “I have no freaking clue.” I look both ways down the sidewalk. There are several people outside, some coming, some going, some just walking by, but unfortunately, I don’t see Rome, or Max, anywhere.

I blow out a slow sigh, my inebriated brain trying to break down what the hell just happened.

“Do you think it had something to do with you?” Quinn asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question.

“How could it not? But I didn’t even know he knew Max.” “I did,” she sheepishly admits.

“You did, what?”

“Knew that Rome knew him.”

“How?”

“They’re teammates.”

“Wait!” I swear my eyes damn near bug out of my head.

“He’s a baseball player?”

“He is. I mean, technically he hasn’t played for the team, yet. But that’s why he transferred here. Lex told me when you two were dancing.”

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“Because you seemed into him and he seemed into you and I didn’t see why it mattered.”

“But you know why it does.”

“No, in truth, I don’t. I thought tonight was about breaking the cycle. Rome doesn’t own every player on the team and he certainly does not own you. If you like Max and if he likes you, Roman Danvers doesn’t get a single fucking say in that.”

“Well, as you can see, he feels differently.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do about it?”

“You can tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Not like it would do me any good. Did you see how fast

Max high-tailed it out of there?”

“Then there’s only one other option. Give him what he wants.”

“Which is what?”

“You.”