![]() ![]() “What are you doing busting into my bathroom at seven freaking thirty in the damn morning? I’m trying to get ready for class.” Even though I’m a sophomore, it’s my first day at a new school, and I’d like to start my second year of college on a positive note. Maverick looks like a damn supermodel with his wavy dark hair and ridiculously chiseled features. ![]() And by “hang out,” I mean, bones as often as possible. Based on what I’ve learned from the girls who like to stop by our house-there are many-he hangs out with the same girl for exactly four weeks. ![]() A monogamous one, but a manwhore nonetheless. ![]() Much to my parents’ dismay, Maverick is a certified manwhore. “And looking at your face makes me lose my appetite.” “Screw you, fuckboy.” I try to close the door on him, but it’s useless, since he’s a damn giant and standing in the middle of the doorway. Don’t say things like that if you don’t want me to hurl.” “Goddammit! That was my favorite freaking mug. “Ow! What the hell, Mav!” I cover my burning eye with my palm and drop my mug in the sink. I jab myself in the eye with my mascara wand, and coffee sloshes down the front of my white tank. “HEY, LAV!” MY brother’s fist slams against the bathroom door, and half a second later it flies open, scaring the living shit out of me as it bashes into the wall. ![]()
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