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“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No? Not that you and Bea spent weeks waking up at stupid o’clock in the morning so you could spend hours on the field teaching her to play well enough, with the help of most of the team, so she could beat me at a one-on-one?”
My heart flutters at him calling me Bea. Sure, he’s called me bumblebee, but the moniker seems to have taken on a new life since I’ve arrived. It’s full of hatred and anger, but Bea . . . it’s different. It reminds me of before.
“While you’re correct, Nash and I did do all those things. You left out the important bit,” I say, willing myself not to shrink into the chair as all heads turn toward me. Maverick’s eyes glitter with amusement as he raises a brow. “You had been a little bitch since you made the team. Banging on about how you were the best of the best and no one could beat you ever. So, it wasn’t formeto win, justyouto lose. And you did, by the way. I totally kicked your ass out there.”
He chortles to himself, shaking his head at me, and my heart races at the sight. “I went easy on you. What can I say?”
“That’s bull and you know it,” I argue, my lips twitching as he watches me. For a moment, it’s just the two of us in this garden. Two old friends, reminiscing. But we’re brought back to the present when a ball is tossed to the ground and Gray wears a smug smirk.
“This is something I’m going to have to see, the great star quarterback, losing to a girl.”
As if something jolts him from the reverie, Mav rises, his eyes narrowing. “Nah, I’m good. Beatrice has a habit of destroying everything she touches these days, it’s not worth the risk.”
He turns away, stalking over to the cooler, and while his words sting, a stronger feeling overtakes it. Determination. I don’t know whether it’s the way we fell back into who we used to be, even if for a moment, or the ease of being here tonight, surrounded by people who I can imagine calling friends, but a stark realization hits me.
I want to be here.
I want to be around these people more . . . andhim. I want my life back, and I want Maverick to be a part of it.
Maverick
Nash finds me smoking a joint on the front steps. Laughter from the garden follows his footsteps, and I tip my head back, blowing smoke into the air.
“You good?” Dropping down next to me, he grabs it from my hand, bringing it to his lips before he takes a steady drag.
“Yeah, I just needed some air.”
He looks at me then, a knowing smirk on his face. Air? As if we haven’t been outside breathing in the fucking air all night. But it’s better than to admit I needed to get away—from her.
Beatrice being here, slipping easily into my friend group after only a few hours, is a complete mindfuck. It’s easier to hate her. To look at her and remember that day—and all the ones after—that changed my life forever.
“You ever wonder what it’d be like?” Nash asks, his gaze far off in the distance. “You know, had some choices not been made back then.”Only every day of my life.“What you’d be like, you and her?
“Bit late for the what-ifs, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs, passing the half-smoked joint back to me. “Or maybe not. She’s here, you’re here. It’s a fresh start, Mav. What if this is the chance to finally get the girl you always wanted?”
“Is that what this is all about? Bringing her here tonight? You trying to play Cupid?”
“Who says I’m trying to play anything?”
“I’ve known you my whole life, you’re always up to something.”
He laughs, stands up, and turns to me. “Nah, not this time. I just wanna bang her friend. But it is nice having her back. I know shit’s been heavy for the last couple years, for everyone, you especially. But have you ever taken a moment to ask what it’s been like for her?”
Strolling back to the garden, he leaves me alone, the joint dead on the ground. His words pinch something inside me, something I long thought gone. I’ve never asked the question, never needed to. Our hometown is ripe for gossip, my own parents feeding it back to me while I was stuck inside. Beatrice has been fine over the last two years, happy even.Hasn’t she?
My phone buzzes, pulling me from my head as I glance down at my sister’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey, big bro,” she sings down the line. A grin breaks free at my lips as she pushes her dark hair from her face while coming close to the camera. “I heard it through the grapevine that a QB I just happen to know won his first game of the season today?”
“The grapevine being Mom and Dad?” I chuckle.
“Actually, no. Nash has been texting me nonstop with updates of what happened. I don’t think he realizes it’s not exactly fun to getliveupdates after the game has been live.”
“Oh, he realizes,” I tell her, brushing my hand over my face as I laugh at her annoyance. “He just knows how much you hate football, so it makes it way more fun for him.”
