Page 69 of A Little Complicated

“Of course.” With a light laugh, I lean forward, giving him a quick peck on his weathered cheek. It’s a little prickly and smells like aftershave. My smile widens.

Like seriously, how cute is he?

“Thank you, my dear.” The man lifts my hand, kisses the back of it and leaves the stage, only to be replaced by another stranger who hands Grace a red ticket.

One by one, I start clearing out the line but eventually realize how much longer it is than when I first took over. And it isn’t full of eighty-year-olds, either. Nope. These guys are starting to look like they might go to LAU with me this year. My nerves kick up a notch, and I twist my hands in my lap. A blonde with short-cropped hair offers his ticket to Grace and steps toward me. He’s the freshman from Game Night. The one who cuffed me to Maverick. He grins at me, but a large, toned body cuts in front of him.

“What the fuck?” the blonde starts. Reeves faces him fully, and the guy cowers. “Oh, shit. Hey, Reeves.” He steps back, giving Reeves his position at the front of the line. “Uh, yeah, you go first.”

“Thanks, man.” Reeves slaps his shoulder, turns, and gives me his full attention. “Hey, Lia.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be manning the ticket booth?” I question.

“Asked Cameron to cover for me.”

“And he said yes?”

With a smirk, he admits, “I may have bribed him.” Reeves hands his red ticket to Grace, and when their fingers brush, she practically swoons. I swear, Reeves wieldswaymore charisma than any college guy should have at their disposal. So much so I’m pretty sure it’ll bite him in the ass one day.

Once his payment is accepted, he swaggers closer to me, and I ask, “And why did you bribe Cameron?”

“I gotta shake things up a bit.” He wedges himself between my knees. “Let’s see if this gets under his skin.”

“Archer’s?” I ask.

His mouth lifts. “Sure.”

Caught between confusion and amusement, I laugh lightly but let it go. My tongue darts out and moistens my bottom lip as I lean forward cautiously, preparing to kiss Reeves’ cheek when I’m wrenched from the stool like I weigh nothing at all.

“Aaaand, you’re done,” a familiar voice growls.

Stumbling over my own feet, I brace myself for impact, but a pair of hands catches me, dragging me off the stage and around the edge of it until we’re blanketed in privacy.

Glaring up at the culprit, I yank my arm free and seethe, “What the hell, Mav?”

“You said you weren’t going to do the kissing booth.”

“You heard Jaxon,” I remind him. “Emily didn’t show up for her shift and the team—”

“Fuck the team,” he growls.

My back hits a steel post as I retreat a step. Crowding me against it, he glares down at me.

“Dude. What’s your problem?”

“You have a boyfriend,” he reminds me.

“Archer and I talked about this possibility before he left. This is for the Lady Hawks. He knows how much they mean to me and doesn’t care—”

“I don’t give a shit whether or not he cares.” Maverick bends closer until we’re nose to nose, our mouths a few mere inches apart. Shit, I can practically taste him. And the animosity in his eyes? It’s razor-sharp, threatening to shred me to ribbons if I hold it for another second, but still, I do. “Seeing you out there?” He shakes his head. “I tried to stay away. I tried to let you handle your own shit. But I can’t…I can’t do it, Ophelia. Go home. Be done with this bullshit.”

“Why do you care?” I ask as my attention slices from one molten iris to the other.

“Because it’s wrong!” he spits. “If you were mine, there isn’t a chance in hell I’d let you be up there kissing everyone on campus.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m dating your brother, isn’t it?”

He scoffs. “Since, apparently, we’re interchangeable to you, right?”

---