Maverick Murphy is a work of art.
Seriously, I’m pretty sure he was the model for all those naked Roman statues you see all over Caesar’s palace in Las Vegas.
I’m doing my best not to let the drool fall out of my mouth as I watch him pull his body up and down on the bar in the doorway.
His chin lifts, and Knox counts all the way to fifty-one, before he drops, holding up his hands and walking to where his cousin grins smugly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
Every muscle in his upper body seems to pulse. A sheen of sweat coats his tanned skin, and a few strands of hair have escaped his messy bun and stick to his square jaw. That meme of the girl leaning back and fanning herself with the paper crosses my mind. Also the one of the girl lifting the pitcher of ice water and dumping it over her head.
He winked at me, and my pussy literally ignited.
I have lost my mind.
Mav is my friend and roommate. We’ve known each other all our lives. I shouldn’t be thinking of him this way… like I want to feel that hard body pumping between my thighs. Like I want to have those strong hands gripping my ass as he drags his lips up the inside of my…
“What the hell’s going on out here?” The door to Mav’s bedroom opens, and Austin staggers into the short hallway, rubbing his eyes. “It sounds like a fucking parade.”
“Just a little friendly competition.” Knox pushes off the wall, slapping Mav on the shoulder. “Mav thought he could beat me at pullups.”
“Ididbeat you at pullups,” Mav huffs, blotting the perspiration off his brow and chest before pulling the T-shirt back over his head.
“It’s always a competition with you two.” Austin shakes his head before turning to go back into the bedroom and shut the door.
Kelani bounds into the room, jumping all around my feet and letting out cute little breathy barks.
“Where have you been?” Mav scoops her up, and she proceeds to lick him all over the face. I don’t blame her one bit. “Did she sleep in your room last night, Dove?”
“Yes, and she was a very good little roommate.” I rise from the chair and start for the kitchen. “Gina suggested I move her crate to my bedroom while the guys use your room.”
“Dang,” Knox gives her a gentle tap on the head. “She probably needs to pee.”
“Oh, shit.” Mav holds her out, hurrying past me to the door leading out to the back porch.
I put a scoop of puppy food in the metal bowl and watch as he walks her around the small backyard waiting for herto do her thing. It’s so funny to watch this big sexy giant being so sweet to a tiny dog.
“Is there any chance you have matcha?” Edward walks into the kitchen wearing faded jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt over a white tee.
Even though his personality is utterly direct, and he doesn’t do well with nuance, Edward is very handsome and thoughtful in his own way. I could imagine him making a very fine partner for the right person.
“I don’t know.” I frown up at him. “I don’t drink it, and I’ve only seen Mav drink Mountain Dew.”
“Mountain Dew is extremely acidic and high in caffeine.” Edward frowns. “It’s like drinking battery acid.”
“It’s his game-day ritual,” Knox says, pulling a box of Lucky Charms from the cabinet and eating it dry.
“It is?” I blink up at him.
“Yeah—red Mountain Dew and five red M&Ms.” He holds the box to me, but I shake my head. “It’s what he had before he made his first hat trick back in high school. Now it’s what he has before every game.”
“Red food dye is linked to certain forms of cancer,” Edward notes as the door opens, and Mav returns with the puppy. “Maverick, do you have matcha green tea?”
“That sounds like health food,” Mav teases, putting Kelani on the floor. “You must think you’re at Haddy’s place.”
Edward makes a confused face, but I touch his arm. “There’s a coffee shop not far from here. It’s pet-friendly, too. Give me a second, and we can walk up there and get you some matcha and me a cappuccino!”
“Austin will want to go,” he notes, going in the direction of Mav’s bedroom. “What time will we be leaving?”
I look up at Mav, who’s watching me with that cute smile he’s been wearing all morning. “Five minutes?”
