Page 2 of The Consequence of Loving Me

His eyes roam from the top of my head, down to my shoes, and back up again, unabashedly inspecting me. “Trust me, I don’t want you in my bed. I do, however, want someone to help us cover the rent. Our last roommate fell in love with her professor and left without telling any of us.”

To buy myself some time, I look around the quad, taking in the scene around me as I try to figure out the most polite way to tell him to fuck off. A tiny blonde cheerleader is thrown into the air by a man who looks like The Incredible Hulk from the corner of my eye. After watching her land safely in his hands, my eyes come back to the guy standing in front of me.

We both stare at each other, getting jostled by people passing by, until he moves. His fingers curl around my bicep. I have no choice but to move with him as he pulls me into the mass of people walking through our college quad.

His voice is way too close to my ear as he instructs, “Follow me. I need a coffee. But I want to figure out when you can move in.”

“I never said I was interested in moving in with you.” I yank my arm out of his grasp at the same time I plant my heels into the old concrete. People bump into me from all directions, but I stand my ground.

He turns around, raising his dark eyebrows at me. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. His shoulders rise and fall in a sigh as he also stops in the middle of the traveling bodies around us. We continue to stare at each other, and it’s evident to me he has an iron will that rivals my own.

It’s impressive, but not impressive enough to get me to move in with a complete stranger—an intolerable one at that.

I’m the first to break the silence. “I’m not following you. I don’t even know your name. Plus, all you’ve managed to do in the few minutes I’ve known you is annoy me. We aren’t off to the best start here.” I scowl at another person who bumps into me while they rush down the sidewalk.

The stranger laughs at my reaction. It aggravates me. I let out a sigh and turn around, walking back to the campus board. I try to think if I have anything in my bag that I can use to replace the flyer this guy decided to rip down. Just as I round one of the corners, I bump into a firm chest.

“Veronica?” a familiar voice says.

I look up to see the guy I hooked up with last weekend.

I think his name is Chad?

I can’t remember, but I do remember that Texas accent that drawls out of his mouth. If the accent alone didn’t speak of his hometown, the cowboy hat that sits on top of his head would give him away.

“Oh, hi,” I respond, looking over my shoulder to find demanding roommate guy standing directly behind me.

Why won’t he just take a hint already?

“I tried texting you a few times since we saw each other last,” maybe-Chad says.

Or is it Brad?

It doesn’t matter. I just really need to focus on not rolling my eyes.

Don’t guys know it isn’t cute when they’re clingy?

And now, there are two clingers surrounding me—one I don’t even know!

“Yeah, I got them,” I answer Chad-or-Brad, lazily twirling a piece of my long blonde hair around my finger.

His eyes widen a bit. He obviously isn’t used to being ignored.

Luckily, his phone rings from inside his pocket. He gives me one last inquisitive look before pulling his phone out of his pocket, then shakes his head and walks away.

I look back to clinger number two to find that taunt of a smirk still on his face.

“That happen a lot?” he asks, with humor in his voice.

I shrug. It does, but I’m not one to tell that to a stranger.

He holds out his hand while I stare at it questioningly.

His long, tan fingers wiggle in waiting. “My name is Maverick, by the way.”

“Maverick,” I repeat, not moving.

He takes a deep breath. “This is where you shake my hand and not make it weird.”

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