There was no way I had heard him correctly. Did Maverick just suggest that he and I...

I was left in a daze, jaw hanging open as my brain failed to compute. Thankfully, I didn't have time to consider a coherent response. Easton had chosen that moment to join Maverick and I by the island, effectively snipping the invisible string that was pulling the two of us together. A spell that––I hated to admit––was more like a chokehold. Suffocating.

The daze I was under lessened as Maverick wordlessly excused himself from the conversation, leaving me to decipher what he meant with my unknowing friend by my side.

How had his disingenuous offer gotten so far under my skin?

Part of me wanted to blame the three tequila shots and the one drink that Booker had whipped up for me. But, while I may have been slightly buzzed, I sure wasn't anymore.

Easton led me over to the couch, hand in mine as we passed through rings of heat-inducing bodies. My birthday-party-turned-house-party was in full force. The deeper we ventured into the living room the more my chest vibrated. After safely securing a seat he handed me a bottle of water. I greedily took a long sip, chaos unfolding around me.

"I told Booker this would be a bad idea," Easton muttered with a sorry smile.

I waved away his concern, screwing the lid back on. "What? No, I'm having a great time."

"Are you?" Easton raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Yeah," I gushed, beaming at him as if I wasn't completely losing my mind. "This has been so fun. Thank you."

My response seemed to appease him. He leaned back against the thick cushions, arm resting on the back of the couch. Laughter echoed from every corner, and the energy in the room was infectious. But I couldn't focus on any of it—not really. My eyes kept drifting back to the center of the room, where Maverick was holding court.

Women were all over him, as usual. It was like a revolving door—one girl would flirt, flash a coy smile, and then another would swoop in, giggling and batting her eyelashes. And Maverick? He handled it all with that signature grin of his, smooth and easy. Like this was just a regular, every day occurrence.

But the most fucked up thing about it? It bothered me.

I wasn't sure why. He hadn't confessed his undying love for me in the kitchen.

I had no claim on him. But every time I saw another girl touch his arm or lean a little too close, the unmistakable twist of jealousy settled in my chest. I caught myself. This wasn't me falling for Maverick. The man had less redeemable qualities than a PopTart. These misconstrued thoughts had to be alcohol induced bad ideas. I steeled my spine, taking another sip of water once I'd reached some clarity.

But yet, my mind still wandered.

Was he really this 'sex god' that all these girls swooned over? With the way they practically threw themselves at him, they made him out to be. I wasn't oblivious. Maverick was attractive. More than that, he had this raw magnetism that drew people to him, like he was the center of some unseen gravity. It was hard not to get caught up in it.

Hell, I had gotten pulled into his orbit less than twenty minutes prior.

That's when a truly scary realization came to mind. If Maverick and I weren't housemates, perhaps I wouldn't have been so opposed to his teasing. My last relationship led me to realize that I wasn't ready for another one. Definitely nothing serious. But if Maverick was as good as these women led me to believe, then perhaps I wanted a go as well.

I wanted to know what sex was supposed to be like when it wasn't with a selfish prick.

I shook the thought away, embarrassed. Clearly, I needed to get myself to bed.

"When are you going to stop ignoring your teammates?" I asked Easton, shaking the foot that hung over my other leg.

Easton's brown eyes dragged their way over to the beer pong table that had been set up in the kitchen. "Come with me?"

I laughed at his pleading expression. Out of each of the Falcons it was clear that Easton was the most out of his element when it came to these kinds of social gatherings.

I shook my head. "I think I'm going to make my way to bed. I have an orange tabby upstairs that has weeks of cuddling to catch up on."

Easton threw his head back with a little groan. "Fine, abandon me."

I grinned, patting his knee before standing. "Goodnight!"

If I was being honest, there was no way I would be able to fall asleep with the chaos happening on each floor of this house. But I also needed to put myself away before I had any more stupid thoughts about a certain tattooed hockey player.

I was halfway to safety, a mere few feet from the stairs when a voice cut through the crowd, and every muscle in my body went rigid.

"Celeste!"

I didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. That voice was ingrained in my mind. I started moving, heading toward the front of the house, hoping I could disappear into the sea of partygoers before he caught up to me.

Too late.

"Celeste, wait up!"

I cursed under my breath, my pulse quickening as I turned to face him. Miles stood there in a pair of dark washed jeans and a polo. His brown hair had been slicked back with gel. Not too much, but not too little. It was just the way he knew I liked it. Well put together. Just like the first day we met.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, like he was trying to sound sincere. "How have you been?"

When I didn't grace him with an answer he continued. "Do you think we could talk for a minute?"

When he moved to put his hands in his pockets, I caught a glimpse of the black leather bracelet I had bought him soon after we became official. He hadn't worn it in months. My eyes darted back up to his face. Was this his poor attempt at a white flag?

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. Deep down I was one of those shivering autumn leaves outside.

Miles stepped closer, his eyes softening, as if he were trying to pull me back in with that charming act he used so well. "I completely understand if you never want to get back together with me. I just want to be friends, Celeste. We had something good, didn't we? I miss you. I miss us."

The brittle laugh I had been preparing for a moment like this died on my lips leaving me with a bitter taste. I knew exactly why he missed me. It wasn't because he cared about me. It wasn't because he wanted me back in his life. It was because he'd realized how much I did for him—how much I'd put up with. I had been like his personal maid, his emotional crutch, always there to take care of things while he did whatever the hell he wanted.

"Living with just Sean isn't the same," he continued, with a sad smile. Then a look of realization hit him. "Oh, I found this back at the apartment and thought I would bring it to you."

Out from his pocket he pulled a mini polaroid photograph. He held it out to me, so I could see our smiling faces staring up at us. Sand on our skin, sun in our eyes. It was from that spring break trip that sealed everything for me. I felt a pang of nostalgia at the memory, but it was fleeting.

I couldn't allow the good memories to erase every poor choice he made when it came to me. Maybe once upon a time he could. But I wasn't that girl anymore. I wasn't the girl who believed his lies, who thought she could fix him or make things work if she just tried harder.

His hand was still between us, picture untouched.

"Miles, I—"

Before I could finish, a body pressed into my side, a firm arm wrapped around my shoulders. I glanced up to see Maverick standing beside me, his eyes locked on Miles with a look that was anything but hospitable.

"Hey," Maverick said, his voice dripping with faux enthusiasm. "Did you want a matching set?"

Miles straightened up, puffing out his chest a bit. "Do you want to get kicked off the team?"

Maverick's toxic smirk didn't waver. "I promise you, it will be worth it."

There was a tense moment where I thought Miles might push back, but then he shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he turned and disappeared through the front door. A gust of brisk air snuck in as he left, causing me to shiver. I let out a breath, my body relaxing with his absence.

"Thanks," I uttered, peering up at Maverick.

He dropped his arm, putting some well needed space between us. "I wasn't expecting him to have balls to show up here, I'll give him that."

Either Miles had no regard for his safety or something about his appearance tonight was sincere.

"Where you headed?" Maverick asked.

"To bed," I stated.

He offered me a curt nod, an unreadable expression on his face as he gave me a once over. As if he were doubt-triple checking that I was fine.

"Lock your door once you're up there." The demand was throaty. Feral. It did something to my core that I had never experienced with another man.

Before I had a chance to respond, Maverick was already making his way through the crowd, disappearing into the overflowing kitchen. I clinked the water bottle that was still in my hand as I made my way up the stairs, two steps at a time.

When I reached my room, I did what he asked, pressing my back to the door for good measure. These post-break-up hormones were really fucking with my head.

A little mew caught my attention just in time to see Oliver hop off the bed, landing on the floor to stretch.

"Sorry, buddy. Did I wake you?" I cooed, scooping him up in my arms. "It's been a crazy day. Let's get some sleep, okay?"

And with that, I got ready for bed, omitting my regular routine and using a spare pack of makeup wipes in my room. I couldn't trust myself.

Lock your door once you're up there.

Was that warning about Miles... or himself?

A flash of heat scolded my skin as I shook my head, hair flying around me. I had to stop. Slipping into the cool cotton sheets, I was sure that would be the end to the wild thoughts that continued to play in my head like a merry-go-round that I couldn't get off.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Like I had suspected, sleep evaded me, leaving me tossing and turning as the thumping continued from downstairs. I was left to picture Maverick's smolder every time I closed my eyes. At one point, I realized it might have been safer to keep them open. So I did. I laid awake, staring up at the ceiling, Oliver curled against my side.

I was stronger than this. I knew better than to jump out of a relationship with one man and into the arms of another. Regardless if my needs were purely physical.

But when the party finally died down. I found myself exactly where I promised myself I wouldn't go.

_ _ _ _ _

author's note:

Why do you think Maverick told Celeste to lock her door? ;)

Anyways, I think you might know what's going to be coming next! Spicy chapter will be coming to Ream soon!

Happy reading!