26. Maddox

TWENTY-SIX

MADDOX

Hannah tries not to react, but I know she wasn't expecting me to sit beside her.

I set my book on the table, watching her eyes move from the book up to my face.

"Do you have anything else?" She glances at her backpack sitting on the table in front of her, pulling out a thing of orange Tic Tac's and offering me one.

I shake my head as I pop a few into my mouth. "The assignment isn't due until the end of the semester, and my memory is good. I'm just a really slow reader." I lift a shoulder, for some reason not feeling self-conscious over admitting that to her.

I'm not stupid. I'm just not a fast reader.

It took me a while to separate those two things in my mind. Mostly because of the shit other students would say. But even though I know I'll never be the type of person who can read a book in a day, I still enjoy reading.

Hannah picks up The Count of Monte Cristo . "Are you sure there wasn't a longer book to choose from?"

I grin.

This right here is why I feel so comfortable around her.

No jokes about me being some dumb jock.

No pitying remarks.

Just acceptance.

"I'll be honest, I didn't know how many pages there were when I chose it," I admit. "But the other options didn't interest me, or I'd already seen the movie."

Since we're sitting side by side, Hannah has to tip her head back to look at me.

She lifts her pointer finger. "First, it's a freaking awesome movie. Highly recommend." She lifts a second finger. "What sort of assignment is this?"

I turn to face her better and hold up two fingers. "We need to read a book, watch the movie adaptation, then write a report on why the book is better."

"Seriously?" Hannah laughs, causing me to smile.

"Okay, so the teacher said to write about which version has better storytelling, but her bias was pretty obvious." I lower one of my fingers, counting down Hannah's points. "How about when I finish the book, you and I watch the movie together?"

Hannah gives me a little nod. "I'd like that." She taps her nail against the cover of the book. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

I snort before I can stop myself. "Sorry." I grab her hand before she can pull away. "I'm not laughing at you. Just…" I shake my head. "I wouldn't be sitting here, with you, in this tiny room, if I had a girlfriend. Just like if I were your boyfriend, you wouldn't be sitting in one of these rooms with someone else." I brush my thumb across the inside of her wrist. "You don't have a boyfriend, right?"

Her pulse is strong against my touch as she shakes her head. "No. No boyfriend."

"Good."

She gives me a half smile before blowing out a puff of air. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you or anything. I just saw someone with a sign about you at the game yesterday and…" She shrugs.

"Did the sign say I'm Mad Dog's girlfriend ?"

Her lips pull to the side. "No, but that's probably a good way to get free drinks."

I chuckle. "Men are pretty simple. It'd probably work."

"Next time."

I know she's joking along with me, but I like hearing her say that. Next time.

"How would you like to do this?" She pushes her bag farther across the table, making space in front of herself.

A vision of lifting her onto the surface, spreading her legs, and plunging into her flashes into my mind.

I almost groan.

On the stairs, when she said I'm not either , I was torn between wanting to spank her for not waiting for me and wanting to beat the other man into the ground for touching what was obviously meant to be mine.

It's hypocritical to want her to never have seen another dick before. Because I've, well… But it doesn't matter what either of us has done in the past. That's the past. Now is now.

"Maddox?"

I blink. "I'm good. Just… thinking."

Thinking I need to adjust my half-hard cock, but I can't really do that subtly.

Her brows knit together. "Are you sure you're okay? I don't know how you can play like that and still walk after the game."

"You that worried about me, Bunny?"

She heaves out a breath. "I just find it hard to believe you aren't covered in bruises. If I got hit like that, I'd lie on the floor crying."

I turn until I'm completely sideways in my chair, facing her. "If anyone ever hit you, they'd be the one lying on the floor crying." Her eyes widen, and I roll my shoulders out. "Remember, you asked for this."

"What—"

Before she can finish her question, I reach down and pull up the hem of my shirt, lifting it up to my chest.

"Maddox!" Hannah gasps, glancing at the window like she's worried someone else might see.

"I'm just showing you that I'm fine." I lift my shirt higher.

"You— um…" Her eyes burn a trail of heat across my skin.

She looks everywhere.

I'm too big to be shredded. I don't have a defined six-pack like some of the guys do.

But I'm all strength. Thick. Built for power.

I need to be huge. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be on the team.

A soft hand presses against my pec, and I clench my jaw.

"Wow." I don't think she means to say it. But she does.

I flex, causing my chest muscles to expand under her touch.

Her eyes snap up to meet mine.

"Believe me now?" I ask, my voice deeper than normal.

Hannah swallows. "Yeah." Then she looks back down at my body.

Like she's just realizing what she's doing, she snatches her hand back.

This isn't the first time she's touched me. But it's the first time it was skin on skin. And I want more.

She scoots back in her chair, her cheeks blooming a deep red. "I'm sorry. I didn't— I shouldn't have touched you like that."

"You can touch me any way you want." I lift my shirt higher and wiggle my eyebrows. I don't want her to feel like she did anything wrong.

Her mouth pinches like she's trying not to laugh, even as she looks back toward the window.

"Going once…" I lower and raise my shirt.

"Oh my god, put your shirt down!" She finally breaks, laughing.

I lift it higher, twisting side to side, making sure she can see as much as she wants to.

"Maddox." She leans forward, reaching for my shirt.

We're facing each other, our sides against the backs of our chairs, our knees touching.

And when she gets back within touching distance, arms outstretched toward me, I let go of my shirt. And I reach for her.